Chapter 15 #3
Walking to the door, I keep my steps light just in case someone’s listening. Freezing when I reach the thick wood, I put my hand on the doorknob and press my ear to the door. I don’t hear anything on the other side, so after taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, I turn the doorknob.
The hinges creek when I pull the door open, and I grit my teeth. If anyone is here, I’ve just given away my move, so I say fuck it, and step out into the hallway.
This is the part of the horror movie when the dumb girl gets murdered, right?
The feeling of being watched kisses every inch of me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as goosebumps cover me from head to toe. I dig down deep, searching for the courage to keep walking.
“Come out and play!” I sing-song, hoping they’ll show their faces and I’ll know which direction to go to get away.
The only light in the hall is coming from the open doorways, and from the white shine of it, it’s most likely the reflection of the moon from outside windows.
There doesn’t seem to be electricity here, judging from the fact I can see my breath in front of my face.
But who knows? They’re playing tricks on me, so I can’t trust my gut.
I power through my trepidation, walking slowly down the hallway and past the first open doorway. Craning my head to the side, I search the room for them, but it’s empty. The floor is covered in discarded trash—paper, wrappers, empty cans and bottles—making my nose turn up in disgust.
Where the fuck am I?
When I feel confident no one’s there, I start walking again. One foot in front of the other, I keep my eyes scanning the hallway, ready for someone to pop out at me. It’s really quiet—too fucking quiet.
At the next open door, I do the same thing, sneaking my head into the room to see if anyone’s there.
There’s an old, rusty, broken wheelchair sitting in one corner, but what has my stomach flipping is the small, twin-sized bed sitting parallel to it—there’s peeling leather straps attached to the wilting metal that look like they’re used for restraints.
The open door has a tiny window about the size of my hand, and there’s rusting metal bars crisscrossing it to make it more secure.
Underneath the window, there’s a plaque with fading letters. PATIENT: DANGEROUS
Where the fuck am I?
Some sort of hospital—a mental hospital? Somewhere they have to strap patients to the beds for their own safety.
Leave it to the fucking Hallows Boys to bring me to an abandoned asylum.
“Fuuuuuck this,” I whisper to myself, officially creeped out and ready to go. I turn from the room and go off like a fucking rocket, shooting down the hallway as fast as I can.
After I’ve passed another couple of doors, one of the ones at the opposite end of the hall slams shut, making me scream and spin back around. I almost jump out of my skin, and my heart is beating so hard that I can feel it in my face.
“Stop fucking playing with me!” I yell before I start running again. I’m so close to the end of the hall that relief rushes through me for a moment. That is, until I collide with the door at the end of the hall, and it won’t open.
I pound on it with my fists. “No!”
Looking through the large, glass window on the door, I find that there’re stairs just beyond, so I grab the handle and shake it, hoping that the lock will come loose. When I hear another door slam at the opposite end of the hallway once again, I turn around and press my back to the door.
Cold dread washes over me when I see two masked figures standing at the midpoint of the hall, just a splash of the moon illuminating them.
Both are wearing masks that cover their faces, but they’re slightly different from one another.
The one standing on the left, whose large body and long legs tell me it’s Kaiden, has a mask with two large, red X’s sewn over the eye holes, making it so I can’t catch a glimpse of his dark eyes.
The person next to him, with a lean swimmer’s body and tattoos kissing his forearms, who I’m sure is Beckham, has a similar mask, but instead of X’s covering his eyes, his has hearts.
They both stand completely still, their arms hanging at their sides, and if it wasn’t for the slight movements of their chests rising and falling, I’d think they were mannequins.
They’re both in black jeans, but Kaiden’s wearing a black hoodie, and Beckham’s wearing a black T-shirt, and the depraved part of me is scanning their bodies and salivating.
Their dangerous and deadly auras have my mind and body fighting one another, battling for dominance.
Their heads tilt to the side at the exact same time, the action undeniably eerie. They’re fucking unnerving, standing there like they’re enjoying watching me squirm.
Anger barrels to the surface once again.
“You sick fucks!” I yell, balling my fists at my sides. “You don’t just fucking kidnap people for a stupid game! You three are twisted!”
They don’t say anything, don’t move an inch, but then my own words register in my head, making my heart stutter.
Three.
Where is Vinny?
I dart my eyes around the hallway, then Kaiden and Beckham start to walk toward me leisurely. They move as if they’re in no rush at all, like they have all the time in the world.
I press harder against the door at my back, trying to get as far away from them as possible. When they’re finally passing the open doorways closest to me, the door behind me swings open, making me fall back.
I scream, catching myself and spinning around, only to be met by the final Hallows Boy.
Vinny’s mask is different as well, with black circles stitched around the eyeholes that make his deep-green eyes look luminescent.
I turn to run, even as Kaiden and Beckham are closing in behind me, but Vinny wraps his arms around me and presses a knife to my neck. “Where are you going, Little Rabbit?”
My teeth chatter, my entire body tensing as I hold my breath.
I swallow hard, making the knife dig into my skin, and I feel a harsh sting as it cuts me. But instead of screaming or passing out or fighting for my life, something sick and demented turns my core to molten fire.
Desire runs through me as equally as shame.
I’m broken, certifiably perverted and insane.
This shouldn’t bring me a thrill; it should have me begging or running without a look back.
But these ruthless, sinister boys create a feeling inside of me that I can’t stub out.
They’re black pits of depravity and sin—all three of them—and there’s a large part of me that wants to see how far that pit goes, just to see how dark they can get.
Through the holes in Kaiden’s mask, I see his eyes move to my neck, tracing the small dribble of blood that’s now trailing down my skin, and his chest rises and falls harder.
He reaches toward me, dragging his finger through the red liquid, using his other hand to lift his mask to just above his top lip.
He swirls his finger around the cut on my skin, then pulls it back and slips it into his mouth.
He hums in pleasure before he pulls it from his lips with an audible pop, then his mouth curves into a wicked grin that has my gut falling to my ass. He whispers huskily, like gravel coats his throat. “Let’s find out who you are in the dark, Sage Lindman.”
The knife at my throat slides away, bringing a breath of relief from my lungs. But then my world is closed in darkness when Vinny pulls the sack over my head again.
“No!” I shout, lifting my arms to hit them instinctually, but before any of my punches land, my arms are twisted around my back again and secured with a scratchy, rough piece of rope. I feel someone at my feet, then my legs are wrapped in the same rope and tied together.
My legs are lifted in the air at the same time a set of hands grips me under the shoulders and I’m turned horizontally.
I buck and wiggle the best I can, trying to get dropped to the ground, but my efforts are useless, they’re too strong—the hold they have on me is too tight.
I scream, my entire body trembling for what’s to come.
Tears rush down my face as fear takes the driver’s seat, kidnapped once more tonight like I’m nothing but a weightless doll, moved to wherever the owner wants me. I’m helpless, my limbs tied and my vision gone, but a tiny thrill still licks at my spine.
My throat runs dry, soreness spreading the more I scream, and when I finally lose the energy to keep going, I fall silent and listen to the faint footsteps of the three boys around me.
I hear the groaning of the old staircase as they travel downward, and when we reach the first floor, a door creaks open before slamming shut again when we’ve moved beyond it.
They walk with me between them, levitating in the air, for another five minutes. The sounds of their footsteps change—from being on wood to crunching leaves and grass—and the air turns crisp, even under the sack over my head, so I know we’ve left the asylum.
When I hear a set of keys jingle, and then another door open and close, I wonder where we could be now.
A million different locations flash through my mind when my body is thrown down onto a plush surface.
I bounce a few times before I still, then I stroke my hands over the fabric underneath me—feeling a soft blanket.
Lifting, I grab for the sack over my head, but someone’s quick to stop me with strong hands and a disapproving click of their tongue. “Not yet, Sage.”