Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
I realized my mistake almost instantly—but not fast enough to save myself. The heavy watertight door swung shut behind me at the same time the guy with the lantern darted out through the matching door on the far side of the room. I dashed forward, but the door slammed shut with a thunderous boom, sealing me in.
My bare feet hurt on the grated metal floor, but the bigger issue was the rank smell. It reeked of death and decay and made me gag. The space was barely lit overhead, and the bluish-green light was obscured by how crowded it was.
Because bodies in various states of decay hung from the ceiling on meat hooks.
Jesus, I was in the same room where I’d seen video of the woman “drowning.” And just like she did at the beginning, I looked up, searching for the camera that was likely recording this.
But I couldn’t find it.
Shit, I was wasting time. I did not want to be in here when it began to flood. Even though I had no idea what exactly I was looking for, I turned to the body closest to me and began to search. The guy’s pants pockets were empty, as was the breast pocket of his bloodstained button-down. I swallowed down the acidic taste of bile in my mouth and focused on the next closest body.
There was a word written in black marker on this woman’s forehead. Thief, it said. She was slumped to one side, her left arm dangling farther down than her right. Was there something in her hand?
A deep thud rang out below me, and I froze. My gaze dropped down to the floor and then, with dread, to the rippling water below.
Oh, my god.
The room was suspended over an enormous pool, and the whole fucking thing was now slowly sinking into it. I gasped as cold water bubbled up through the grate, splashing my bare feet. At the rate the water was rising around me, I’d have a few minutes at most before it’d be to the ceiling.
In the video, the woman had cried mercy but been refused. If I used the safe word, would they release me? Fuck, I did not want to find out.
The icy water sloshing at my ankles turbocharged my motivation to find the “light,” and I stared up at the bodies on the hooks. Each one of them had a sin scrawled across their forehead.
Greedy. Cheater. Killer.
After a quick check, I realized there wasn’t anything in the female body’s hand, so I hurried to the next one, choking at the sight and smell. It looked like this guy had been rotting in here for weeks.
I came up empty on his pants pockets, but he was wearing a suitcoat, and there was something in the interior pocket. I had to go up onto my toes to reach inside, and my fingers clasped around something thin and hard.
A skeleton key?
It was tarnished brass and simple, with a long barrel and a small decorative flourish on the end. My focus went to the door I’d come in through then the one the lantern guy had used for his exit, but neither had a keyhole.
The water lapped at my kneecaps, and my urgency climbed. This key was just a distraction meant to slow me down. I dropped it and moved on.
Searching the bodies was challenging enough, but when the water rose to my waist, it became much harder. I slogged through the frigid water, trying keep calm and be thorough. What if I missed something small because I rushed?
Panic licked at me like fire when I waded to the body farthest from where I’d come in. If I didn’t find anything on this woman, I’d have to start over. I ran a hand along the waist of the skirt the body wore, checking to see if there were pockets—
The body moaned softly in discomfort, and I jerked back, making water splash around me.
Holy shit.
It was Chelsea.
Her pink hair had been haphazardly painted with a black substance to disguise her, and it had worked. In my disorientation and hectic searching, I hadn’t looked closely at any of the faces.
She stirred awake, her sleepy eyes blinking open, and then they went wide with horror when she took in her surroundings. She wasn’t on a hook like the others—she was locked into a metal harness that was attached to a thick chain that hung from the ceiling.
“Tyler?”
She gazed at me like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her hands went to the harness holding her up and shook it, attempting to get it open. But that wasn’t going to happen. A padlock clipped the two sides of it together, locking her in.
My focus narrowed on the large keyhole on the front of the lock.
“Where are you going?” she cried as I sloshed away.