Once you got past the hyperbolic crust, the neon facade, and the exclamatory marquis, once you stepped beyond the burly doorman and the double doors sealing you off from the public, The Dollhouse was a somber place, geared towards anonymity. The congested air and lack of windows reminded Laura of a bomb shelter. Music was playing somewhere in the building, she could tell by the throb of a bass which she felt mainly in her shoes. It was all rather eerie, but as much as she wanted to ask where the hell they were going, she kept it to herself. She knew how much surprises meant to her brother, so she kept her uneasiness in check as Zeke led the way down the narrow hallway, humming quietly to himself. "I feel like I'm in a nightmare," Laura said uneasily.
"Actually, it's the Twilight Zone," Zeke joked, opening what appeared to be a dark closet.
"Got any quarters?"
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