Chapter Four
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Henri
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I LOST TRACK OF TIME AND sanity.
The deeper the cave system swallowed me, the worse I lost myself.
The cave—with an altar, cupboard full of skulls, and carved seating for devils to watch fucked-up ceremonies—chilled my bones until I turned numb.
The energy in that place coated my skin with goosebumps.
I wanted to leave as soon as I stepped foot inside it and only stayed long enough to ransack the boxes and cupboards, looking for something to help me do whatever it was that I would do.
Nothing.
Nothing but a torch with half-dead batteries.
I had no idea what my plan was.
I was barefoot, freezing, and frankly, I feared myself.
Feared how fucking good it’d felt to squeeze the life out of Charles.
How empty my mind was as I added yet another soul to my tally.
I felt no guilt.
No remorse.
Nothing but single-minded determination to find Ily.
Fisting the torch, I eyed up the crevices leading from the large cave where death dripped down the walls. The one to the right was the largest. The one slightly to my left utterly uninviting with its ill-fitting crack and jagged rocks.
I chose that one.
If I wanted to hide, I’d probably go that way. Choosing the least inviting direction to dissuade those chasing me.
Twisting a little, I stepped into the dank, damp chill.
My stolen paintball gun whacked and cracked against the narrow walls, hindering me a little as I clicked on the torch and left behind fake sconces and a blood-stained altar.
I stopped counting minutes as I followed the long seam, heading deeper and deeper into the earth.
Every step, the blackness inside me billowed, matching the blackness swallowing me whole.
I feared the beast within me.
The thirst for blood.
The hunger for carnage.
All around me, heavy rock suffocated the sounds of existence, making it feel as if I’d been buried alive. I walked in a grave with no ending, laid to eternal damnation beneath soil full of saltwater.
On and on, I walked.
Heard no one.
Saw nothing.
Flashes of what I’d done to Charles popped like holograms in the gloom.
His eyes as I snuffed them out.
His lips as they turned blue.
His death had been satisfying but also...hollow.
It hadn’t granted me peace.
If anything, it’d opened a clawing, rabid hunger inside to do it again. And again. To eradicate every son of a bitch on this island until I was the only one.
I sniffed back the whiff of paint on my soggy clothes as I travelled through perpetual cave-dark night.
The journey acted like a sedative on the snarling mayhem in my veins.
It gave me space to think instead of act impulsively, and by the time the narrow pathway spat me out into another cave, I bordered human once again.
The click of my torch as I turned it off echoed in the rock-wrapped chamber. I didn’t need any light as the cave had electricity—burning brightly from exposed light bulbs suspended from the ceiling by thick plastic-wrapped wire.
Glancing around, I spied a few things of interest.
The uneven ground was soaked with the black-crimson of dried blood.
A heavy wooden box tucked to the side looked like a treasure chest of murder.
A heavy-duty hose hung, coiled and sleeping against the wall.
The whiff of ocean filled the space, doing its best to tease my nose with wild water instead of the lingering stench of viscera.
Whatever went on in here would make even the sickest serial killer blanch.
It looked like a butcher’s workshop—an abattoir to chop up meat.
Swallowing hard, I stepped toward the box. With gritted teeth, I lifted the lid and found things that made my spine shiver.
A bone saw.
A small axe.
Heavy-duty scissors, filleting blades, even a small battery-powered chainsaw.
If I wasn’t so numb, I might’ve done something foolish like throw up.
But the blackness kept me anesthetised.
The darkness kept me shielded.
Running my fingers over the tools of dismemberment, I chose the small axe and continued on my way.
Another crack to the right.
A short, muffled scream echoing down its path.
My hands curled around the torch and axe as I squeezed into the chasm. My toes turned to ice, and the stupid gun slung across my back kept catching on jagged rocks.
I hoped Kyle was up ahead.
I’d teach him a lesson of what it felt like to be sliced and diced.
Ducking beneath a low outcropping of stone, I scowled as my torch flickered and dimmed.
Victor will murder you if you go on a killing spree.
My steps slowed.
The faintest nudges of commonsense acted like shards of light through the dark fog of my mind.
I was a guest and governed by certain laws.
I couldn’t let myself go.
I still had to live here. Still had nowhere else to go—
Another scream.
Followed by a masculine laugh.
My jaw clenched.
The urge to join in the pain almost consumed me again.
The fog grew thicker. My heart turned blacker.
But...reality made me pause.
I could explain away Charles.
I didn’t have to explain anything at all.
No one had seen me kill him.
Anyone could’ve done it.
No cameras out here—
At least, I don’t think so.
My eyes shot to the craggy roof as I followed the snaking stone path and stepped into yet another cave. No blinking red lights recorded my every move. No signs of cameras anywhere.
My torch beam skimmed this new cave, dancing over salt-encrusted stalagmites and sweeping over shadowy pockets. Seemed Victor hadn’t brought electricity any farther—
A bloodcurdling scream pierced my eardrums.
I froze.
“That’s a good girl,” a man crooned. “I love it when you succumb. Such a good, wonderful girl.” A man. A psychopath.
“Don’t!” a woman begged. “Stop. Please don’t—”
I moved before I could stop myself.
Dodging a few boulders, I followed the natural shape of the cave into another chamber.
My feet slammed to a stop as I stumbled onto a scene straight out of a dirty BDSM porno.
Two jewels. Two Masters. Coarse rope binding their prey to conveniently tall stalagmites. Neither of the jewels were shot with paintballs. In fact, they looked remarkably unbruised.
The strawberry-blonde jerked as she noticed me. Her golden collar twinkled against her throat thanks to unusable cellphone torches that the men had arranged as uplights against the cave walls.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” a bald Master spat. He stood before the pretty strawberry-blonde with his hand in his undone slacks and his hard cock in his fist. Shirtless, he showed off a gym-toned body all while his annoyance faded beneath smug arrogance. “Like what you see?”
Keeping the axe hidden behind my right thigh, I shrugged. “Where did you get the rope?”
“Always come prepared.” The other Master with receding black hair and piercing ebony eyes tapped his nose. “Once a Boy Scout. Always a Boy Scout.”
Strolling forward, ensuring I kept my posture intrigued instead of threatening, I cocked my chin at the surprisingly calm jewels. “How will you determine who’s the winner? None of them are covered in paint.”
“Meh.” The bald one shrugged. “We’re not really into competition. Penny and Abigail know they’ve got it good with us. They came to find us, didn’t you, girls?”
The strawberry-blonde, who’d practically begged at Victor’s feet for redemption before Emerald Bruises started, nodded. “We know we’re lucky.” She glanced at the auburn-haired girl. “Don’t we, Pen?”
“Master S and Master B are very good to us.” Penny nodded with a soft smile. “We’re grateful we found them so easily. We’re safe with them.”
My ears pricked for lies.
I found none.
Strange...
“Which one was screaming?” I asked quietly.
The blonde blushed. “I was, Master H. But...it’s a game, you see—”
“A game?” My eyes widened.
“A game where we’re the big bad assholes, and they’re our meek little toys.
” The bald guy released his dick and pointed at his friend.
“We indulge in all sorts. Have you never heard of mutual fun without pain?” He scoffed.
“Stewart and I like to stick to ourselves, alright? It was pure luck we stumbled onto our girls, and we have no intention of giving them up, so run along and—”
“Did I say I wanted a piece?”
“You’re certainly watching them like you do.”
“I’m looking for my own.” My voice turned thick as I asked the blonde, “Where’s Ily?”
She flinched. “W-We separated. I’m not sure which way they would’ve gone after we left.”
“They?”
“She was with Peter and Rachel and a bunch of others,” Penny answered.
“Fuck’s sake, you’re ruining the mood, man,” Stewart muttered. “Go away.”
The urge for bloodshed rushed up my gullet.
These men were just as bad as all the rest.
I should exterminate them. Slaughter them. Save the jewels and—
Condemn myself to Victor’s wrath.
I’d already pushed my limits where he was concerned.
What if he snapped and killed me, and Ily was left all alone? Alone and at the mercy of Kyle?
Swallowing hard, I stepped back.
It wasn’t my job to save these jewels.
It didn’t even look like they wanted to be saved.
I wouldn’t interfere, but I would threaten them...just a little.
Casually holding up the axe, I made eye contact with the two Masters. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard the castle gossip, but I killed Daxton Hall and permanently disabled a guy called Roger. Instead of punishing me, Victor gave me a job.”
“Yeah, we heard.” Stewart nodded with a wince.
“You’re his in-house exterminator.” He glanced at his partner.
“Ben and I are fully aware how strict Victor runs his home, and we’ve never given him any reason to discipline us.
” He crossed his arms. “We pay our membership fees, come for some R and R, and leave.”
Stewart took over. “Like we said, we, eh...we’re not like the others.”
I laughed under my breath. “Bullshit.”