Page 61 of A Smile Full of Lies
A flash of movement caught my eye in the dark at the end of the hall. The lights cut out, plunging us into pure blackness.
A sharp noise — metallic and high-pitched — cut through the dark.
I stumbled back from the group huddled in the middle of the hall, breath catching as I groped for a wall or something solid to press myself against.
A narrow beam of purple light flickered along the edges of the room, carving thin shadows along the towering walls.
Something moved behind me and I twisted toward it only to find nothing there.
A soft sound caught my attention, like fabric brushing against stone.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered.
A flash of light lanced through the entrance hall, too bright and sharp. I was momentarily blinded, disorientation settling around me like a funeral shroud.
The sound of breathing flooded the hall, louder this time. Faster, too.
The blonde screamed, but I couldn’t tell if it was excitement or terror clawing its way out of her throat.
A figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked in black with a silvery reflective mask glinting under the thin, purple light.
The mask tilted toward us. My stomach dropped.
“Run,” the distorted voice purred.
A deafening sound exploded through the room, like a hammer striking metal.
The group of girls in the middle of the hall screamed. Someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward into a dark, narrow passage that cut through the stone wall.
My hands hit rough stone as I righted myself and squinted into the darkness. I was in a short hall that led to a set of stairs going down to what had to be either a wine cellar or a basement that was half carved into the massive hill Stonewood Manor was perched on.
I glanced back, but the figure was gone. My chest heaved as I tried to steady my breathing and edged toward the stairs.
A metallic sound — a deepclank— echoed behind me. I spun toward the sound and saw the heavy oak door behind me creaking shut.
“No,” I breathed.
I surged toward it. My palms hit the wood. I tugged desperately at the handle.
It didn’t budge. The lock slid into place with a cold, metallic click.
I was fuckingtrapped, and I was alone.
My pulse roared in my ears.
I twisted toward the narrow corridor and the stairs leading downward. Purple light buzzed softly against the far wall.
The stairs stretched downward, dark and empty. The sound of distorted breathing — slow and controlled — drifted toward me through the dark.
I swallowed hard. My hands curled into fists at my sides.
Realization dawned on me. I wasn’t alone, after all.
My breath hitched in my throat.
Oh, fuck.
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