Page 93 of Death Trap

“I’ll be fine,” I repeated to him.

Simon cleared his throat, regathered himself, and then in a commanding and concise tone, he said the five words I had dreaded since starting my reaper job.

“Jade Blackwell, I Release you.”

The moment his finger touched the center of my forehead, the world around me vanished.

Whiteness. That was all I could see in every direction. Stark, bright whiteness.

There was no way to determine what was the ground or ceiling, or if there were any walls or obstacles at all. Only white.

Talk about a mind fuck.

Where was I?

“Hello?” I called into the stillness. Expecting my voice to echo back to me in the vast emptiness, I was shocked when it didn’t. It died flat, even hit my ears wrong when I heard it myself. It was as if I were standing in a room heavily padded for soundproofing.

Yikes.

Hesitantly, I started walking forward and squinting against the brightness all around me. There wasn’t a sign of anyone—or anything, for that matter—in sight. Uneasiness raised goose bumps on my skin. I needed to get out of here.

Whereverherewas.

I trudged on for a while, unsure how much time had really passed. The bottoms of my feet ached, though, so it must have been a good amount. But when I stopped and looked around, I was horrified to find myself in the exact same place I had started.

At least it seemed that way. There was no way to tell any difference.

Some whiteness over here. Some whiteness over there.

Had I passed that whiteness before? I must have.

Shit. This was bad.

It was like I was in space or something, but with fewer stars and planets to look at. Just endless nothingness.

This place was a complete void.

I glanced around again and sighed. That was the perfect name for this place. The Void. Someone trademark it.

But how did I get out of it? It wasn’t like Hell where there were too many doors to choose from. It was the exact opposite. I didn’t have any options.

I had to find a way to get out of here. But I had no idea where to start.

“How the fuck am I going to do this?” I said to no one but myself.

“Are you trying to leave?” A male’s voice came from behind me, and I nearly leapt out of my skin.

I whirled around to find an older man with long, frizzy hair, matching beard, and a kind-looking but dirty face staring at me with curiosity. His clothing, which consisted of too-short pants torn at the knees, a stained shirt, and a long brown trench coat, gave off the impression that this was a man who’d lived on the street prior to this.

Or had being here for so long turned him into this?

My throat tightened.

“Uh, hello,” I started, giving him a small wave.

The man smiled, revealing yellow-stained teeth. “Hello. You look like you’re new here.”

Still a bit put off by his appearance, I hesitated. But despite his grunge and dirt, his tone and demeanor seemed kind. Although I had just met him. That could always change—something I’d learned the hard way recently.

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