24. Chapter Twenty-Four Witch’s Gamble
Chapter Twenty-Four: Witch’s Gamble
Tess
As I crept through the dark passageway, a faint murmuring reached my ears. Quickly, I slipped behind a set of floor-to-ceiling curtains, rough and brittle under my fingers. The fabric released a cloud of dust, and I stifled a cough, my eyes watering as I peered through a small gap in the drapes.
Three men dressed in denim and black walked past, their conversation a low murmur. The faint odor of tobacco and leather lingered in the air. My heart thundered in my ears, each beat a drumroll of anxiety. It seemed impossible that they couldn’t hear it as their hushed voices and steady steps continued. I pressed myself against the wall and held my breath, praying they wouldn’t notice me.
When they were a few feet past me, one of the men halted. The others turned, grunting like cavemen. “What’s up?” one of them asked.
The first guy sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring slightly. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face as he turned and locked eyes with me, piercing through the gap in the curtains. His sharp gaze seemed to freeze time. Panic surged through me, knowing if they all came after me, I was done for.
I bolted, and the curtains swung wildly as I burst into the corridor, shoes pounding against the floorboards, echoing through the hallway like a frantic heartbeat. Behind me, I heard them shouting and the rapid thud of footsteps as they chased behind.
“Hey! Come back here!” one of them shouted.
“We won’t hurt you!” said another. They all laughed.
I raced down the hallway, the walls narrowing and closing in. Turning a tight corner, I slid on a loose runner covering the floor and almost lost my footing. Righting myself, I managed to stay on my feet somehow, and my heart raced as I spotted a staircase at the end of the corridor. I charged toward it, the tendrils of darkness reaching out and groping for me.
As I descended, my feet barely touched the steps, and the creaky old wood groaned under my weight. The glint from a chandelier above painted spectral silhouettes across the room, transforming the ornate wallpaper into a tapestry of shifting, ghostly shapes.
Halfway down, my foot slipped on a loose step, and I grappled for the banister to steady myself. The cold wrought iron felt like ice against my palm, and I could hear the men closing in behind me. Desperation fueled my movements. I reached the bottom of the staircase and dashed through an arched doorway leading into another darkened corridor .
When I closed my eyes, for just a beat, the flash of a vision forced itself upon me: I was right here in this hallway, running from the same men. I pushed through a heavy door just ahead and closed it behind me, leaning against it, with the knowledge the men would pass by.
Blinking again, there was no time for the shock my vision elicited. No time to consider the implications. A glimmer of light beneath a heavy door caught my attention, and I sprinted for it, my breath ragged, legs burning already. Reaching the door, I flung it open and slipped inside, closing it gently and pressing my back against it to catch my breath. The room was cold and musty, filled with old furniture covered in white sheets, like ghosts frozen in time. Everything appeared to be exactly the same as in my vision.
The men paced the hallway, their heavy footsteps echoing off the floors, unable to move silently enough to surprise me, each step vibrating through the ancient wood and rattling the dusty paintings. Holding my breath, I turned the key slowly, feeling the cold, smooth metal beneath my fingers. I let it latch soundlessly and listened as they argued in hushed tones, their voices a murmur of tension and irritation fading further down the corridor.
Relief seized me, but I knew it was only temporary. The musty air in the room pressed in on me, thick with the scent of mildew and old wood. I had to keep moving, had to find a way to outsmart them and survive this nightmarish hotel.
Wanting to give the men time to get well away, I stayed in the room. It seemed to be a pantry, long abandoned. A glare from the red light filtering through a small, high window flashed eerily on the walls. Shelves lined with dusty jars and forgotten cans loomed overhead, their contents surely long since decayed.
With the rough wood against my back, I grimaced at the stale air and tried to steady my breathing. The eerie stillness in the room was broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling, and the faint rustle of unseen critters scurrying in the corners set my nerves on edge. Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet, from the rustling of my clothes to the slight wheeze of my breath.
Glancing around, I noticed an old, dust-covered cupboard in the corner. Its doors hung slightly ajar, revealing a dark interior that might offer a better hiding spot if they came back. But the thought of squeezing into that confined space made my skin crawl.
I strained to hear any sign of the men returning, but the only sound was the steady thump of my own heartbeat.
When sobbing from outside the door caught my attention, I rushed to the door, carefully removing the key to peek through the keyhole. A girl with long red hair, eyes red around the edges and smudged with black eyeshadow, mostly cried off, shuffled toward me. She seemed to be limping. Why was she out there all alone instead of hiding? If those guys just up the hallway found her, she’d be finished off in minutes. I didn’t even want to imagine what they’d do to her.
That’s when I realized this was my chance.
She was already weakened and surely doomed anyway.
If I didn’t take her out, someone else would within the half hour, whether it was those guys or some others.
I imagined bursting out the door and seizing her. Shoving the knife in her chest. “Sorry,” I’d say. Tears would prick my eyes, and panic would close in.
No, I couldn’t hurt her. Wiping the real tears that had dripped down my cheeks as I imagined the scene, I watched as she passed the door. Wondered if I should call her in and tell her it was a good hiding spot. There was a lock, and it afforded some time to plan and consider, which was more than I could say for pacing the hallways out there .
Reaper would have been furious that I hadn’t chosen the girl, but I couldn’t imagine hurting her. After she passed, I unlocked the door, slipped out and called to her, “Hey.”
She froze and raised her head.
“Back here, come here,” I stage-whispered.
She whirled around and, in two long steps, had a knife to my throat. I yelled out, but when I blinked, she was still twenty feet down the corridor, bent down, pulling a knife from her boot. Another vision saving my ass. I threw myself back through the door and slammed it shut. Struggling with the key, hands shaking, I gritted my teeth and finally managed to slide it in, twisting it locked again. Chest heaving, I closed my eyes and realized the implications of another vision keeping me safe.
“Fuck,” I whispered. It was eerily silent on the other side of the door, so I checked through the keyhole. Another eye, green and menacing, peered back at me. I gasped and fell backward, a sharp pain radiating from my coccyx as my butt met concrete. I couldn’t let this chick rattle me. I had a door and a lot of magic. She had no idea who she was fucking with.
Manic laughter emanated from outside, and my heart pounded in terror. Sidling up against the doorway, I resolved to wait a while, settle my nerves and come up with a plan.
Time dragged on, each second stretching into an eternity. My muscles ached from tension, and the cool air raised goosebumps on my skin. Reaper would have been right. I should have ambushed her when I had the chance. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Not here.
Footsteps outside the doorway caught my attention, and I peeked out to see if she was finally giving up on me. But I couldn’t see anything. She must have been standing directly in front of the door, blocking sight, which meant someone else was walking closer. The sound resounded louder and then stopped. A masculine chuckle reverberated from a distance.
“Come and get me, asshole,” the girl dared.
There was a scuffle and a bang against the door. I flinched at first, then checked through the peephole. A big hairy guy in black had her on the floor, but he was struggling with her knife edging toward his throat. This chick was strong, and I was suddenly glad I hadn’t tried to fight her.
A vision clouded over the scene before me, the white mist distorting reality in front of my eyes. I stilled, my breath catching in my throat as I watched it closely, the details revealing a clear path forward.
Reassured that there was no need for fear, I could see how to get past this determined girl blocking my way. The vision mapped out each step, each movement, as if choreographed by some unseen hand.
The room around me faded into the backdrop, the musty smell of old wood and the faint glow of candlelight becoming distant sensations. The vision’s clarity enveloped me, a bubble of calm in the midst of the chaos. I knew this was my best chance to complete my task and return to Reaper and the poltergeist, waiting anxiously for my prize.
My pulse slowed, the adrenaline settling into a steady, controlled rhythm. The vision dissipated, leaving behind a lingering sense of confidence. The soft fabric of my clothes shifted against my skin, the faint draft from a nearby window brushed against my face. Every detail came into sharper focus, guided by the assurance of my vision. What was always a curse in my mind had finally become a gift.
With renewed determination, I took a deep breath, ready to follow the path and overcome the challenge before me.
Hands still shaking, I turned the key and edged the door open. “Hey!” I shouted. The guy, who resembled a grease monkey mechanic-type, going by the t-shirt and dirty jeans, noticed me. The girl did not; she took the opportunity to stab the guy in the throat. The shock on his face, along with the blood that gushed out, had my stomach roiling. She sliced outward with the blade and pushed him off of her. My heart pounded, but I stood firm in the doorway and waited for her.
She stood, grinning at me. “There you are. I thought you’d never come out.”
I shrugged and watched her stalk toward me, holding her bloody knife out. Her eyes were an oil slick of malice and fury, and I knew she was sharing a body with a wraithshade, too. I swallowed despite my dry throat and held in the raspy cough that begged for release.
When she vaulted for me, I was ready. The vision had shown me exactly when to move. The moment she lunged, her eyes wild and intent, I shifted to the side, my body twisting around in a fluid motion.
My boot connected with her mid-flight, sending her sprawling further into the room. The dull thud of her body hitting the floor reverberated through the space. I didn’t waste a second, slamming the knife Reaper had given me into her chest. I fumbled against her as we wrestled, slipping slightly on the blood-soaked floor.
With a fierce twist, I jammed the dagger in harder and pulled it downward toward her pelvis, thick rivulets of blood coursing out the long, widening gap.
She screamed, her voice piercing my eardrums until I bashed her in the face, holding an arm over her mouth to shut her up. Gagging, I turned my head and tried to breathe through the moment. Settle my stomach. I’d done it. She was as good as dead. I had my victim to bring to the phantom.
A laugh bubbled up from my chest, a jumble of relief and adrenaline. “Not so scary now, are you,” I taunted, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart.
Her eyes widened in terror just before her body shuddered, then went limp, and all the light left them. They remained open but empty. Now a shell of who she used to be.
I leaned against the floor on my hands and knees for a moment, catching my breath. The musty scent of the old house mixed with the sharp tang of my own sweat and the blood flowing out of the two dead people on the floor in front of me.
The gurgling sounds still coming from the grease monkey on the floor roiled my stomach. I took a moment to observe him, laid out, limbs bent oddly, wine-dark liquid pooling from his wounds like lava. I tried to swallow down the waves of nausea rolling through me but failed. I gagged once, twice, and I couldn’t help myself. My dinner erupted out of me and onto the floor. Wave after wave emptied my stomach until my abs were cramping in pain.
By then, I felt a lot better, more clear-headed and somewhat emptied of the concern that had been packed in my gut. Wiping my face clean, I closed my eyes and wiggled my fingers, trying to block out her muffled voice yelling at me in my head.
I gripped the girl by her armpits, dragging her down the hall. It was just as well; I couldn’t stay hidden forever. The corridor was dark and empty. The stuttering light from a chandelier conjured sinister shapes as I dragged my heavy subject across the threadbare runner over creaky floorboards. The air felt colder, almost tangible, with the lingering presence of lost souls from the past few hours.
Each straining step, dragging the body backward, was a battle against the fear threatening to overwhelm me, but I had no choice. I had to find a way through this haunted labyrinth, back to Reaper and the poltergeist, so we could enter that room and hopefully get our matches and flammable liquid.