Page 27 of Nightmare Island

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you,” I respond.

Ghost pulls back slightly, his grip on me loosening. Even through the mask, I can feel the intensity of his gaze, leaving me curious to what he really looks like.

He’s laughing again, so I use that moment. I throw myself from under him and bolt to the back exit door while he just laughs.

“You’d better run now, little flame. I’ll give you a head start, and you’d better use it.” There’s a hunger in his voice that makes my skin prickle. “Because when I catch you—and I will catch you—all bets are off.”

Something in his tone, in the predatory stance of his body, tells me he means it. So I turn and run, hating how I respond to his voice, how this macabre game he’s playing awakens a hunger inside me. I’m terrified, I’m turned on, and I’m so fucking confused.

Outside, the wind hits me like a physical force, nearly knocking me off my feet, seeming to push against me as if it’s trying to force me back in Ghost’s direction. “Are you insane?” I call up to the sky. In response, the wind howls, the trees swaying violently, branches reaching for me like grasping fingers.

I race around the back of the house, curving down its side. I scan the surrounding area for an escape route, then spot an old metal basement door near the house, the kind that leads down to an underground shelter. There’s even a rusted lock on it, glinting in the moonlight, which I find strange.

Ghost’s words echo in my head.I’m the darkness.Going underground seems like playing right into his hands. Besides,the idea of being trapped down there, in the dark, with him hunting me… it’s not going to work.

So I keep going.

On my next hurried step, the earth suddenly gives way beneath me.

A scream tears from my throat as I fall, and I’m plunging into darkness.

Chapter

Seven

HEL

One moment, I’m running for my life, and the next, I’m falling.

The world tilts and spins, my stomach lurching as gravity takes hold. I claw at the air, desperate for purchase, panic biting into my skin, but there’s nothing to grab on to. Just empty space and the rushing air.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. Sharp pain spreads through my body, centered on my hip where I landed. I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but lie here as agony pulses through me in waves.

Dust and broken planks of wood rain down around me, filling the air with a choking cloud. I cough, struggling to catch my breath as I blink away the grit in my eyes. As the dust settles, I find myself in near-total darkness. The air is thick, heavy, with the scent of mold and decay. It presses against me, almost a physical presence, reminding me of old blood and forgotten places.

“What a fucking night.” I glance up, squinting in the dim moonlight. The hole I fell through is a good ten feet above me, a jagged mouth of broken wooden beams in the ceiling.

Groaning, I push myself to my feet, wincing at the throb in my hip. Each movement sends a fresh wave of pain through me, reminding me of how close I came to serious injury. Or worse. I take stock of my body—bruised all over, probably some cuts—but nothing seems broken.

A sound comes from deeper in the darkness, something guttural and… wrong.

I’m rooted to the spot.

“Ghost?” I call out, hating the tremor in my voice. “That had better not be you, or I swear I’ll?—”

The sound comes again, louder this time. Closer. I’m not alone down here.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, backing away slowly.

Something is shuffling toward me, a dark shape in the gloom.

Ragged breathing and a wet, gurgling sound turn my stomach. The smell hits me next—the stench of rotting flesh, overwhelming and nauseating. The odor is so strong I can almost taste it.

“Ghost!” I scream, panic overtaking me. My word echoes in the confined space, bouncing back at me mockingly. “Ghost, fuck, you’d better help me out of here.”

I’m still staring into the dark where the sounds are coming from.

Suddenly, there’s a form there, stepping forward out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

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