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Excerpt:
My knees hit the ground. A quick tug relieved the pressure on my
wrists. As my hands yanked free, I wrenched the burlap off my face. It was
pitch-black. Where was I? I ran my fingers over my lips, but the tape was
wrapped all the way around the back of my head with no detectable endpoint. The
ground shook in the wake of a loud boom. What the—? A metal jiggling noise.
Like the sound of a key turning inside a lock. A door! A door had slammed.
Scrambling to my feet, I
crashed against the door. My hand grasped the latch, but it wouldn’t give. I
banged my fists, screaming and yelling—or at least tried to—but no one
responded. Could they not hear me? Were they already gone? God, no. Please no.
I banged harder, but it was
no use. Even if they heard me, they couldn’t understand me. I was alone.
Trapped. I sunk against the door, hands pressed flat on either side. Don’t panic. Stay calm. They had to come
back at some point. Right? They couldn’t leave me here forever. My fingers
curled, sounding a loud crinkle. I stiffened. What was that? I pulled away from
the door, hands groping in the darkness. Paper. It was paper.
Pinned to the door? Why? Was
it a message?
If so, there must be a way of
reading it. My eyes panned the darkness. The lights couldn’t possibly work. The
place was abandoned, wasn’t it? I fumbled along the walls, feeling for a
switch. My foot brushed against something soft. Stepping back, I squatted,
inspecting the item. It felt like maybe a backpack or a satchel. My fingers
found the zipper and tugged. It gave way easily. I slipped my hand inside,
extracting a slim object. A protrusion jutted along the side. I clicked it.
Light burst forth.
From the ceiling, light
glinted off the tear-shaped crystals of a beautiful chandelier. For a moment, I
couldn’t move. My hand quivered as I cast the flashlight slowly, illuminating
my surroundings. In the corner loomed a rustic grandfather clock, while
centering the space was a grand renaissance staircase, made grander still by a
decorative rug. The walls were little more than patches of cracked plaster, the
bone-dry floor coated in flaking paint.
Fear slithered in my veins.
The placed looked as though it might cave with the slightest breath. I rose on
shaking limbs, pointing the light at the door. A sheet of paper clung to the
wood by four pieces of tape. It read:
Dear Initiate,
On every floor, you’ll find several strategically
placed flags. Each flag contains a clue and each clue contains the whereabouts
of the object you need to find. In total, there are ten flags, each labeled
with its designated number. If you haven’t already guessed, the clues must be
deciphered in chronological order. First flag one, then two, then three, and so
forth. To keep you on track we’ve made sure the clues only make sense in the
correct order that you read them. The tenth flag contains the clue that will
lead you to a code. This code will grant you access to the digital lockbox
securing the front door. Inside, you’ll find a key—your only means of escape.
Remember—you cannot leave until all objects are in your possession. Store them
in the backpack provided. And find the code. Good luck.
Shit. I was
right. They’d wanted April all along. Not wanted—needed. April was the only one capable of collecting these items.
That had to be it. Why else create this challenge? And disguise it as an
initiation?
I stepped away, my body
shaking.
But they had the wrong girl.
I couldn’t complete this challenge even if I wanted to. And without the items,
I couldn’t escape. Or could I? I pointed the light at the door. Looped through
the handle was a digital lockbox. What about the windows? Could I break the
glass and climb out? I redirected the light, shocked to see two windows on
either side of the door boarded up from the inside. No. This wasn’t happening.
I backed away, passing the
beam to my right where the wall opened in a wide arc to frame the entrance of
what appeared to be the parlor, though, in the dark, I could discern little
more than silhouettes of furniture. Here the windows were also boarded up, and
on the left as well where the dining room resided.
Okay. I was officially
panicking. Leaping to the nearest window, I gripped the board, heaving with all
my might. I grunted between stymied breaths. Bracing one foot on the wall for
leverage, I lost my grasp and tumbled back, hitting the floor with a
bone-jarring thud. The light winked out. Shit.
My hand fumbled for the flashlight. Where did it go?
Movement from behind.
Creeeaaak.
I whimpered, groping the
floor with frantic fingers.
Creeeaaaaaak.
I twirled, a scream stifled
in my throat.
There—dark, lone, and eerily
still—loomed a black shadow.
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