Chapter 14 Nikolas #2
A single door stands between us and the lit corridor on the other side.
I motion for Tommy to stand on the left of the door, while I take the right.
Popping it open just enough so I can push my head through, I survey the hall.
No cameras, no signs of staff or guards.
So far so good, even though I am a little surprised Isidoro doesn’t have any security measures.
This is allegedly an off-limits area… Then again, maybe he doesn’t have visitors often, or at all.
Tommy and I are extenuating circumstances.
I extend my arm and sweep it twice in the direction of the inner corridor.
Tommy frowns, confusion sliding across his face. “What?”
I smile to myself. I need to teach him some of the nonverbal signs. “Go first, I’ll cover our backs.”
He swooshes past me, maintaining a semi-crouch. It’s completely unnecessary right now, but the fact that he’s trying his best warms my heart. He will make a splendid partner one day.
Once we’ve left the emergency door on this level behind, we follow the hallway. Like the floor above, rooms line up the two sides. Most of the ones down here are empty though.
“There’s nothing here,” Tommy says after another half a dozen rooms. “Maybe we should’ve gone up? Or, I don’t know, do you think Isidoro was pulling our leg about this red door?”
That would’ve been the case had he not acted so unlike himself when Tommy showed him the red stone.
Just as I am about to share my thoughts on the matter, I hear voices. Tommy halts abruptly and turns around, a question written all over his face. Before he manages to open his mouth, I place a finger against it and nod.
“I hear it too,” I whisper, gesturing at where the noises are coming from. Now that I am paying more attention, I can hear a hum too, like music quietly playing in the background.
Assuming the rest of this floor mirrors the one above us precisely, there is an open space with seating right after the corridor turns left. The swimming pool upstairs is behind a door there, so, likewise, there must be a big room here, too.
“I think we should go this way,” Tommy says, pointing where the corridor turns.
Silently agreeing, I take the lead once again. Our approach is careful, each step measured so we don’t make any unnecessary noise. As we near the turn and the voices and music become clearer, I have to pause for a moment to comprehend what I’m hearing.
I thought someone was having a conversation while music played, but that’s not quite what’s happening here. The two actually work together, complementing each other. It’s not a conversation, but rather, a song in a language I can only partially place.
Tommy pulls on my sleeve, eyebrows bunched together and ears perked up. “Uh, what’s that, Niko? It’s not English.”
“It’s Latin.” I place my fingers around his, squeezing lightly. “They are singing in Latin.”
His lush lips form an O. “Latin? Can you tell what they are saying?”
“No. I only studied the language briefly during my priest training. It wasn’t really the focus.”
From time to time, I flirt with the idea of picking it up again, but if I ever found the time to study a language again, going for something like Chinese or German would be a lot more practical in this day and age.
I gesture for Tommy to quiet down. A couple more steps later, and I’ve positioned myself with my back to the wall, ready to pop my head over the corner. Counting down from five in my mind, I go for it.
There’s nothing, at least at first. But beyond the two couches and the bar, light seeps out from the propped-open door. It leads to what I suspect is a massive room positioned right underneath that swimming pool upstairs.
Staying at the front, I creep closer, using the furniture for cover.
Tommy is right on my heel, his face stiff and concentrated and his hands formed into fists.
For a moment, I regret letting him tag along, but then again, it’s better to have him here with me, because if anything was to go south, at least I will be able to protect him.
If I’d left him in the room and got caught snooping around, it would be but trivial for Isidoro to grab him and use him for leverage.
The door where the strange humming song is coming from is just a few feet away. With a hand signal, I instruct Tommy to move out and take the left side. Meanwhile, I shuffle over and get in position on the door’s right side. Nodding at each other that we are ready, we both take a look.
I’ve never seen anything like this before.
Gold and crimson red intertwine into a twist of regal colors.
Cushions are scattered around the white marble floor, and mirrors cover half the walls.
The other half is adorned with grotesque paintings, depicting all sorts of bodily harm—decapitation, torn limbs, cut flesh.
In the far end of the room, elevated on a platform and surrounded by tools of torture, sits an altar like the one that used to grace the church I served.
It glitters under the soft light of a chandelier with real candles, and atop it, a naked man is jerking and tossing and trying to get free from his unforgiving chains.
“Oh my god! How did this guy get here? Should we help him?” Tommy gasps, frowning at the unexpected scene.
I stop him before he rushes to the altar. “Wait. There’s something… off.” I squint, scanning the man’s arms. They are heavily tattooed with all kinds of unfinished pieces, but among them is one I can never mistake—a heart and snake. “He’s Crimson Crew…”
“Huh?” Tommy narrows his eyes, his body tensing. “What? No way! Are you sure?”
“Left arm, just above the elbow.”
A sharp inhale. “Oh, shit! You are right. What the fuck is he doing here? Did he follow us?”
Those are all great questions. But my hunch tells me that the answer isn’t that simple, because if it was, why didn’t Isidoro just tell us?