Page 18 of His to Burn
I told myself it was only a general observation. That there was nothing about Asia in particular that I paid attention to. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she responded, trying to be nonchalant, though her embarrassment was clear, “it’s just that place is so freakin’ creepy. But you should come with me. I’ll drop you off there on the way out.”
“That’s plan A. If that doesn’t work, we go for the garage. And thanks, Counselor,” I said.
Her smile lifted ever so slightly. “Now that’s a plan. And you’re welcome, Jackson.”
I didn’t respond and instead faced the door, but it wasn’t lost on me that she’d called me Jackson again, or that I’d tear anyone else who called me that a new asshole.
As I reached for the doorknob, I looked back at her and tried to ignore the little kick in my chest.
I’d told myself no distractions, and she was definitely that.
And yet…
I couldn’t just walk away from her.
As I studied her, I tried to figure out why. She held the pipe tightly, her face set in a resolute expression. Yes, she was afraid; that was clear.
But despite that fear, she was ready to face whatever lay on the other side of the door.
Yet again, I was struck by her bravery.
That annoyed the fuck out of me.
And at the same time made me that much more determined that we’d get out of here.
Once again, I inched the door open.
The sight that greeted me on the other side was unimaginable.
The lights in the hallway were dimmer than they would be on an ordinary day, so I was sure the building ran on a generator. But even though the lights weren’t as bright as they should have been, it was bright enough for me to see what had happened.
Bright enough for me to see too much.
I stopped counting when I reached the twelfth body, if it could even be called that.
The “bodies” were more likepieces.
Misshapen lumps of what were once people.
It didn’t make any sense.
But whether it made sense or not, logic couldn’t argue with what my eyes showed me.
And what they showed me was that something awful, ungodly, happened here.
Wasstill happening here.
Asia was so quiet that I looked back to check on her.
She was so still she looked frozen, her unblinking eyes glued on one particular scene.
From what was left, I’d say it had been a man.
The shape had no discernible face. His arms and legs were pulled from their sockets, and his guts spilled from the jagged hole that ripped into his abdomen. His chest was cracked open, the reddish-white of what I could only assume were rib bones peeking through.
What was left of the man was smeared along the floor, little bits and pieces of flesh creating a macabre trail down the hall.
