Re: The stairwell to the eighth floor, 12:03 AM.
Instead of tending to the girl as one should have done, Emery ran straight to a cabinet in his kitchen. His fingers searched quickly. He moved bottles out of the way to expose more bottles. The incessant clink was all that could be heard among his constant mutterings. "Where is it? I know it's here!" He was consumed by the idea of finding this bottle. This bottle that contained something he was unsure of. A part of him knew exactly what he was searching for, but it was not a part of him that he was familiar with.
He stepped back on the flats of his feet. His palms clutched the sides of his head. Something was trying to claw it's way through. Something he simply could not allow.
Looking to the side, he noticed he had forgotten about the girl. She was in trouble. Everyone was in trouble. Everyone had to run from him, run from the monster. The sight of her color caused his eyes to grow wide. Apparently he wasn't the only monster here.
He stood up straight and tried to recollect himself, as if he had not put her out of his mind completely. "I-I, yes. S-sit here, please." He indicated a stool at the island within his kitchen. "We must- we must make this quick," he stated again.