Split

Prologue

PROLOGUE

“ E liza…”

The deep, haunting voice echoes through the stone tunnel as I run faster, bare feet slapping against the cold slab underfoot. It’s so dark down here that I can barely make out anything in front of me, chest heaving with exertion and throat raw from my ragged breathing.

“ Eliza …”

I skid to a stop as I hear my name called again, this time seemingly from somewhere ahead instead of behind.

Biting my lip to stifle a whimper, I run my palms over the damp stone walls surrounding me, desperately feeling around for an opening. They slip and slide against the rough surface, both from the moisture on the rock and the blood on my hands.

Blood that isn’t my own.

My fingers claw against the craggy wall as I frantically search for a way out. These tunnels are a labyrinth; a maze designed to disorient. A game.

The rock suddenly gives beneath my hands as I locate an opening in the roughly hewn stone, tripping forward into the space it creates. My knees bang against the floor as I go down hard, a pained cry escaping my lips on impact. I slap a hand over my mouth to suppress the sound, mentally cursing myself for giving up my location by making a noise.

“There isn’t anywhere you can run to that I won’t find you, wife ,” the disembodied voice mocks, echoing in the space around me like a death knell.

He sounds closer now. Too close.

I shove up to my feet, springing forward into the darkness at a full sprint. My panted breaths fog the air as they burst from my lips, my exposed arms covered with goosebumps. In the distance, there’s a hazy glow of light, and I can barely make out the rough edge of another opening– another turn.

I take it at full speed, immediately regretting my choice when I slam into a wall of stone, barely throwing my hands up in time to brace myself.

A fake opening.

A false hope.

As I stumble backwards, stunned and disoriented, a pair of strong arms suddenly wrap around my waist from behind, hauling me back against a muscular chest.

A scream tears from my throat as my feet scrabble for purchase against the cold floor, my fingernails digging into the flesh of the arms banded around my waist.

My captor leans down, his heavy breaths rustling my hair and his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Til death do us part, remember?”