Page 32 of Hide and Seek
I shake out my hands and mentally bitch slap myself before grabbing the back of my desk chair and preparing to sit back down. Only as I start to lower my body, I hear the familiar sound of an access card being denied on the other side of the morgue door.
My back stiffens as my heart lurches in my chest, and I find myself standing impossibly still. I’ve been on shift for close to seven hours. It’s the longest I’ve lasted over my past few shifts, and after Laith’s texts and my mental flip-flopping over a certain step-uncle’s mega cock, I had almost forgotten to be wary. Yet, with one slight noise, I’m back to being the terrified train wreck that raced out of here just last night.
I’m an idiot. I got too comfortable.
The sound comes again and my stomach sinks. My hands immediately start to shake, and without a single doubt, I know it’shim.The door handle rattles, and an almost silent yelp tears from the back of my throat.
Holy fucking shit.
My gaze darts around the room, trying to figure out a game plan, and when the door rattles even harder, I lose all train of thought. All I know is that I need to get away.
Fat tears spring from my eyes, and when the soft beep of the access card being denied again sounds through the morgue, I bound across the room. Shivers race down my spine, turning my blood to ice, and my stomach knots in agony.
My hands shake uncontrollably as I try to figure out a plan, but I’m at a loss. There’s only one way in and one way out. I’m completely trapped.
As the person on the other side of the door shakes the handle again, I find myself backing up against the refrigeration unit, and without another thought, I whip around, finding the only possible solution. I grip the handle, and with shaky hands, I unlock each unit, trying to find an empty bay, and the moment I do, relief floods my veins.
Fear grasps me in a chokehold as I frantically scramble inside the refrigeration unit, pulling the door closed behind me. I can’t lock it from the inside, but it’s my only chance of survival. If this asshole makes it in here, my only hope is that he’ll look around just long enough to assume I’m not here and leave. But that’s ridiculous, right? My computer is still on, my notes spread across my desk, my phone and water bottle left behind. He’ll know. A man so capable of dissecting a body and removing each organ for his own sick pleasure isn’t a man who overlooks the small things. He’ll know I’m here. The only question is, what will he do once he finds me?
Tears well in my eyes, pooling before falling over the side of my face, and I hastily blink them away before swiping at my wet cheeks.
The door outside the morgue continues to rattle, continues to beep with every denied swipe of the access card, and for a fleeting moment, I think that I might just get out of this unscathed. My chest heaves, the sound of my heavy, terrified breaths taunting me that I’ll give myself away.
Why me? What does he want?
I’m just a normal girl trying to make it in the world. I’m nothing special, nobody to obsess over and watch through hacked cameras. There’s nothing interesting about me, nothing to capture someone’s attention. I’m just Harper-Rayn Madden, a nobody who’s terrified of commitment.
The horrid smell of death lingers thick in the air, and I do what I can to drown it out: closing my eyes and focusing solely on thenoises coming from outside as the beeping and rattling finally come to a stop. My back stiffens, and I listen closer, trying to track the sound of footsteps going up and down the hall, but I can’t figure it out.
Is he gone? Am I safe?
Seconds turn into minutes, and just when I think that everything is going to be okay, the footsteps return, coming closer and closer until they’re right outside the morgue door again.
“No. No. No. No. No.”
My heart lurches for the tenth time in as many minutes, and I grip the edges of the steel roller table, my knuckles turning white. This can’t be happening.
The chill of the refrigeration unit bites into my bones, and as I close my eyes and will my racing heart to calm, a soft beep sounds through the morgue. My stomach sinks with dread and not a moment later, the automatic lock releases and the door pushes open.
I hold my breath, terrified to make a single noise, and as tears roll freely down the side of my face into my hair, I listen as someone welcomes themself into the morgue, leaving the door open behind them. The seconds seem to drag on, every footstep killing something deep within.
The steps are too heavy to be a woman, too purposeful to be the janitor, Vincent. It has to be the sick bastard who’s been fucking with me night after night. I mean, shit. He’s made a streak. Why fuck with that now? Three for three, right?
I should have listened to Knight. I should have spoken to Dr. McKullan and been moved off the night shift. But all that would achieve is having one of the other girls put straight into this position, and if anything happened to any of them because of my mystery black rose stalker, I’d never forgive myself.
It has to be me. This shit started with me, and it’s sure as fuck going to end with me. Knight is going to figure this out. He’s going to find this asshole and put him away for the rest of his goddamn life, and if he happens to receive just a smidge of bodily harm in the process, I won’t be mad about it.
I listen as the man makes his way around the morgue, moving from one side to the other, lingering at my desk, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing over there. Making a copy of my apartment keys? Giving a rim job to the mouthpiece of my water bottle like a sick fuck?
This isn’t helping to keep me calm.
The cold starts to ache, and my body violently shivers as the footsteps move again, and just when I think it’s over, just when I think he’s about to make his way out of the morgue and leave me the hell alone, the footsteps grow closer.
I hear something dragging across the front of the refrigeration unit, inching closer and closer until it’s right outside my locker. My heart pounds frantically, and I clench my eyes closed and hold my breath, trying to be as quiet as possible.
This is it. This is how I die.
I’m not ready. There’s so much I haven’t done, so much of the world I haven’t seen. I haven’t even had a chance to tell my mother to go screw herself. Well, I kind of did, but I only stabbed the knife through her back. I haven’t had the chance to twist it. And as for Jonah, I know our relationship has been strained for all these years, but it would kill him if something were to happen to me. I need a chance to mend that relationship before life is brutally stolen from me.
