Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
A soft drum beat echoes through the walls, much louder than the times I’ve heard it while in my little dungeon. The little drummer boy must be close. I still haven’t figured out which one it is, but my gut tells me that it’s Levi. Roman is too … assholish to spend his time perfecting something that doesn’t result in decapitation, while Marcus is just … Marcus. Besides, he was down in my torture chamber while the drums were being played up here. I ruled him out ages ago.
With nothing to do, I go back to the window and stare out into the vast nothingness, desperately wishing that I could be stronger.
An hour turns into two before the joke gets old and my frustration claims me. I’m dirty, sore, tired, and pissed off. I’m over their bullshit, over their games, and over this stupid twisted castle. I’d give anything to go home, to smell the fresh air, hell just to smell the sweaty bodies grinding against one another in the club I work at—at least, I think I still work there. I’ve probably been fired by now for not showing up to my shifts. Assuming they haven’t heard the news stories about my untimely death. I bet my landlord has been having a great time snooping through my bedside drawer and clearing out my things.
Maybe it’s not in my best interest to get out of here. I’m probably already homeless, have no job, no money, and nowhere to go. At least I have a roof over my head in my torture chamber. Though knowing my luck, the brothers will probably start demanding that I somehow pay rent.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
I start pacing my room, only with every step I take, I find myself closer and closer to the door, up until my fingers are curling around the handle and I’m standing here wondering what the fuck I’m doing. I can’t stay in here anymore, waiting for them to show up unannounced and play their twisted game.
When else might I get the opportunity to snoop around their stupid castle? It’s the middle of the day, the drums are still playing loud and proud, and I haven’t heard a peep from the other two. Now might be the only chance I get to figure out what kind of secrets this place holds.
Taking a shaky breath, I turn the handle and shove my head out into a long hallway. Sunlight pours in from a massive window at the end, picking up every little particle of dust in the old mansion, and if I weren’t so damn scared, I might even take a moment to appreciate how truly hypnotic the sight is.
I pause for a moment, checking left and then right before padding out into the hallway. I make my way to the right, following the sound of the drums despite my gut telling me to go in the opposite direction. The drumming has to be coming from deeper in the castle, but it’s almost impossible to tell, so instead, I start learning the layout of the property.
I take lefts and then rights, spying into as many open rooms as I can get my eyes on. The mansion is huge and twisty, and so far, I’m pretty sure that I’ve come across at least four secret tunnel openings and I haven’t even hit the ground floor yet.
Each level is unique in its own way, some of it looking at least a million years old while other parts look as though they’ve been freshly remodeled. Hell, there are some rooms that are still in the in-between phases.
The brothers are clearly trying to make this place their own, but something tells me that they struggle between the castle's century-old gothic vibe and a modern clinical look. If it were up to me, I'd say that the old gothic thing suits them just fine.
I go past at least thirty bathrooms, some looking inviting and making me desperate for a hot shower, while others have me scrunching up my face in disgust. There are countless bedrooms, offices, kitchens, laundries, and living spaces. It’s almost impossible to figure out which ones the boys actually use.
I get all the way down to the ground floor and pass the main dining room where the brothers had formally introduced themselves and their twisted rules. That’s when it occurs to me that I haven’t heard the familiar thumping of the drumming in a hot minute.
My back stiffens and I pause in the doorway, taking in what’s around me, but not just the things I can actually see. My gaze shifts from left to right before trailing back over my shoulder and realizing that I’m not alone, and I haven’t been for quite some time.
My back flattens against the wood as I turn to find them, searching in all the darkest corners and shadows of the room. Then as one, the three brothers step out, each from different corners of the room and each looking like my worst kind of nightmare.