Chapter 36 Ashton
ASHTON
The engine of my motorcycle roared like a caged animal, echoing through the empty expanse of Hollow Hills Woods.
The icy wind cut through me, sharp as razors, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise in my head—the relentless pounding of Dove’s name, the haunting image of her face as I’d last seen it.
Her smile, soft and unsure. Her voice, trembling with anger and heartbreak.
And now, the terrifying thought that I might never see her again.
Lilith sat behind me, her arms loose around my waist. She wasn’t holding on like someone afraid of the ride.
No, she was relaxed, almost too comfortable, like she was savoring every second of my torment.
I could feel her shifting, her breath annoyingly close to my ear as she laughed softly, her voice a maddening blend of amusement and malice.
“You’re awfully tense,” she purred, her words curling in the air like smoke. “Afraid of what we might find? Or afraid of what you already know?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. My jaw clenched as I gripped the handlebars tighter, the cold metal biting into my palms through my gloves.
I focused on the road ahead, the trees closing in like the jaws of some great beast. The path was uneven, snow and ice clinging to the ground, making the ride treacherous.
The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating fleeting glimpses of the forest—gnarled branches, patches of frost, shadows that moved in ways they shouldn’t.
Lilith didn’t stop. She never did. “You think you’re going to save her, Ash? You think you’re the hero in this little story? Newsflash—you’re not. You’re just a man chasing ghosts.”
I forced myself to breathe, to ignore her. She was always like this, poking, prodding, trying to get under my skin. But this time, it was harder to block her out. This time, she wasn’t entirely wrong.
The road narrowed as we approached the outskirts of town, the trees thickening, their branches arching overhead like the ribcage of some long-dead creature.
The air was colder here, sharper, carrying with it a strange, metallic tang that set my teeth on edge.
It smelled wrong, like the air itself had been tainted by the place we were heading toward.
When the hospital came into view, I felt my stomach lurch.
It stood at the edge of the woods, shrouded in mist that clung to its crumbling towers and ivy-covered walls.
The moonlight barely touched it, as if even the light didn’t dare to get too close.
The building loomed, a hulking mass of shadow and decay, its jagged edges silhouetted against the starless sky.
The windows were like black holes, their broken panes glinting like jagged teeth, and the front doors—heavy and warped—seemed to sag beneath the weight of the past.
The motorcycle growled to a stop, the sound echoing eerily in the stillness.
I killed the engine, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the wind howling through the empty halls of the building.
It wasn’t just cold here—it was hollow, lifeless, as if the ground itself had been drained of warmth.
Lilith slid off the bike, her boots crunching in the snow as she stretched, completely unfazed by the oppressive atmosphere. “Home sweet home,” she said, grinning as she turned to face the hospital. “Isn’t it beautiful? A real fixer-upper.”
I swung my leg off the bike, my movements stiff. My chest felt tight, my breathing shallow as I stared at the building. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around, to leave this place and never come back. But I couldn’t. Not when Dove might be in there. Not when the clock was ticking.
“Do you ever shut up?” I muttered, my voice harsh even to my own ears.
Lilith laughed, a sound that grated like nails on glass. “Oh, Ash. You’d miss me if I did.” She tilted her head, her eyes glittering with something dark. “Do you feel it? The weight of it? This place is alive. It breathes. It watches. It hungers.”
I ignored her, stepping forward. The snow crunched beneath my boots, the sound unnaturally loud in the silence.
The closer I got to the hospital, the heavier the air became, pressing down on me like a physical weight.
My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a painful reminder of what I stood to lose.
Dove.
Her name was a mantra in my head, a lifeline I clung to as I forced myself to move closer. I couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever. The thought of her in there, alone, terrified, broke something inside me. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve any of this.
Lilith trailed behind me, her steps light and almost playful. “You’re awfully quiet,” she said, her tone mocking. “Cat got your tongue? Or is it the ghost of your precious Dove haunting you?”
I stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “Why are you here, Lilith?” I demanded, my voice low and sharp. “You don’t care about her. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. So why follow me? Why this place?”
Her grin widened, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer. But then she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Because this place calls to me,” she said, her eyes gleaming with madness. “And maybe, just maybe, it’s calling to you too.”
I turned away, my stomach churning. I couldn’t think about her games, her riddles. I had one focus, one goal.
Find Dove.
Before, it was too late.
The icy wind cut through the heavy leather of my jacket, but the cold didn’t bother me.
Not when I had this hollow rage burning in my chest. My eyes stayed locked on the crumbling monstrosity of the abandoned hospital ahead, its jagged towers looming like broken fingers against the midnight sky.
The air was thick with decay, the stench of rotting wood and damp earth pressing into my lungs with every breath.
Lilith moved beside me, her boots crunching in the snow. She had a bounce in her step, completely unfazed by the suffocating aura of the place. She always carried herself like she was walking through her own personal circus—grinning, swaying, taunting. Tonight was no different.
Her outfit, if you could call it that, was as chaotic as her personality.
She wore a short red leather jacket over a corset laced with black ribbons, paired with a tulle skirt that looked like it had been dragged through hell and back.
Torn fishnets clung to her legs, and her combat boots—polished to a mirror shine—seemed at odds with the mess of her other attire.
Her hair, streaked with vibrant reds and blues, was piled into two messy pigtails that made her look both playful and sinister, like the ghost of some deranged doll.
Lilith caught me staring and cocked her head, a slow, sly grin spreading across her face. “Careful, Ash. People might think you like what you see.”
I gritted my teeth and turned away, forcing myself to focus on the building ahead. I didn’t have time for her games. Not tonight.
She let out a low, taunting whistle, the sound high-pitched and lilting, like a lullaby twisted into something grotesque.
The whistle carried through the stillness, cutting through the oppressive silence like a blade.
My muscles tensed, instinct kicking in. The air grew heavier, colder.
The wind seemed to die, and for a moment, there was nothing but the echo of her whistle bouncing off the decrepit walls of the hospital.
And then I heard it. Rustling.
From the shadows, they emerged, one by one. The circus psychopaths.
I’d seen them before, but it didn’t make it any easier to look at them now.
They were a living nightmare, each one more twisted than the last. The first was a hulking brute, his face hidden behind a cracked porcelain clown mask.
His massive frame seemed to swallow the surrounding darkness, his hands covered in fingerless gloves with jagged metal spikes jutting out of the knuckles.
Behind him, a wiry figure skittered into view, moving on all fours like an insect.
Her head jerked unnaturally, and her painted-on smile—crimson and smeared—looked like it had been carved into her face.
She wore a tattered leotard covered in sequins that caught the faint light of the moon, making her look almost ethereal if you ignored the unsettling twitch of her limbs.
More followed. A man with eyes so wild they gleamed like polished steel. Another with a face painted half white, half black, carrying what looked like a child’s toy box slung over his shoulder. Each one was a walking caricature of horror—unhinged, deranged, and undeniably dangerous.
They gathered around us, their presence suffocating. My rage simmered just below the surface, my fists curling at my sides. Every instinct screamed at me to tear them apart, to demand they tell me what they knew about Dove, but Lilith stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
“Easy, tiger,” she said, her voice sing-song but sharp. “They’re not here for you. Not yet.”
I glared at her, my jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap. “Why the hell are they here, Lilith?”
She twirled on her heel, spreading her arms wide like she was introducing a show. “They’re here for the grand finale, of course. To make sure the villain gets what’s coming to him.”
Her words hit me like a brick. “Bentley James,” I growled, the name tasting like poison on my tongue.
Lilith clapped her hands, the sound echoing through the stillness. “Ding, ding, ding! You got it. Thought you might need a little help to take him down, considering how emotional you are about your little pet.”
Rage boiled over, and I stepped closer, towering over her. “This isn’t a game, Lilith. This isn’t some twisted performance for your freak show. Dove’s life is on the line.”
Her grin didn’t falter, but her eyes glinted with something darker. “Oh, Ash, don’t you get it? That’s what makes it fun. Life and death, chaos and control—it’s all one big, messy masterpiece.”
I wanted to yell at her, to grab her and shake her until the madness left her eyes, but I couldn’t afford to waste time. My gaze flicked back to the hospital, its dark silhouette looming like a specter, and the knot of fear in my stomach tightened.
If Dove was inside—if Bentley had her—every second I spent out here was a second closer to losing her forever.
“I don’t need your help,” I spat, my voice low and venomous.
Lilith tilted her head, her grin widening. “Maybe not. But we’re here, anyway. You know, just in case.”
Her words sent a chill down my spine, but I didn’t have time to dwell on them.
I turned toward the hospital, the circus psychopaths falling into step behind us like the twisted entourage they were.
As we approached the crumbling front doors, the air grew colder, heavier.
The stench of rot and mildew filled my nose, and the weight of what lay ahead pressed down on me like a physical force.
I clenched my fists, my jaw tight as I forced myself to take another step. Then another. Dove’s face flashed in my mind—her smile, her laughter, her tears—and the thought of losing her was enough to drown out the fear.
I would find her. I would save her. And I would destroy anyone who tried to stop me.