Page 31 of The Hallows Boys

Not only am I surrounded by woods that conceal any trace of where I may be in Blackmore, but I’m also about six stories up, giving me no chance of escape from here.

“Goddamnit!” I slap my palm against the glass, creating a ripple of pain down my arm.

Where the fuck am I?!

I spin around, and when I spot the graffiti marked along the wall to my left, my breath gets caught in my throat, and I step back instinctively, bumping into the windowsill with my ass.

There’re all sorts of different graffitied images and words on the wall, covering from floor to ceiling, but there’s one in particular that stands out to me and makes a chill rush over my skin.

In giant, red block letters, it reads:WELCOME TO HELL

I shiver as I swallow thickly through the grit in my throat. Fuck this, I need to get the fuck out of here.

Walking slowly to the door, I keep my steps light just in case someone is listening. Freezing when I reach the thick wood, I put my hand on the doorknob and press my ear to the door. I don’t hear anything on the other side, so after taking a huge, deep breath in and blowing it out slowly, I turn the doorknob.

The hinges creek loudly when I pull the door open – if anyone is here, I’ve just given away my move, so I sayfuck it,and step out into the hallway.

This is the part of the horror movie when the dumb girl gets murdered, right?

The feeling of being watched kisses down every inch of me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as goosebumps cover me from head to toe. I dig down deep, searching for the courage and confidence to keep walking.

“Come out and play!” I singsong, hoping they’ll show their faces and I’ll know which direction to go to get away.

The only light in the hall is coming from the open doorways, and from the white shine of it, it’s most likely the reflection of the moon coming through windows and hitting the floor. There doesn’t seem to be electricity here, judging from the fact I can see my breath in front of my face when I breathe. But who knows? They’re playing tricks on me, so I can’t trust my gut alone.

I power through my fear, walking slowly down the hallway and past the first open doorway. I crane my head to the side, searching the room for them, but it’s empty. The floor is covered in discarded trash – paper, wrappers, empty bottles – making my nose turn up in disgust.

Where the fuck am I?

When I feel confident no one’s there, I start walking again. One foot in front of the other, I keep my eyes scanning the hallway, ready for someone to pop out like in a scary movie. It’s really quiet –toofucking quiet.

At the next open door, I do the same thing, popping my head into the room to see if anyone’s there.

There’s an old, rusty, broken wheelchair sitting in one corner, but what has my stomach flipping is the small, twin-sized bed sitting parallel to it – there’s peeling leather straps attached to the wilting metal that look like they’re used for restraints. The open door has a tiny window about the size of my hand, and there’s rusting metal bars crisscrossing it to make it more secure. Underneath the window there’s a plaque with fading letters on it.PATIENT: DANGEROUS.

Where the fuck am I?

Some sort of hospital – a mental hospital? Somewhere they have to strap patients to the beds for their own safety.

Leave it to the fucking Hallows Boys to bring me to an abandoned asylum.

“Fuck this,” I whisper to myself, officially creeped out and ready togo.I turn from the room and go off like a fucking rocket, shooting down the hallway on heavy feet.

After I’ve passed another couple of doors, one of the ones at the opposite end of the hall slams shut, making me scream and spin around. I almost jump out of my skin, and my heart is beating so hard that I can feel it in my face.

“Stop fucking playing with me!” I yell before I start running again. I’m so close to the end of the hall that relief rushes through me for a moment. That is, until I slam into the door at the end of the hall, and it won’t open.

I pound on it with my fists. “No!”

I look through the large, glass window on the door and find that there’re stairs just beyond, so I grab the handle and shake it, hoping that the lock will come loose. When I hear another door slam at the opposite end of the hallway, I spin around and press my back to the door.

Cold dread and fright washes over me when I see two masked men standing at the midpoint of the hall, just a splash of the moon illuminating them.

Both of them are wearing ski masks, but they’re slightly different from one another.

The one standing on the left, whose large body and long legs tell me it’s Kaiden, has a mask with two large, red X’s sewn over the eye holes, making it so I can’t catch a glimpse of his dark eyes. The person next to him, with a lean swimmer’s body and tattoos kissing his forearms, who I’m sure is Beckham, has a similar mask, but instead of X’s covering his eyes, his has hearts.

They both stand completely still, their arms hanging at their sides, and if it wasn’t for the slight movement of their chests rising and falling, I’d think they were mannequins. They’re both wearing black jeans, but Kaiden is wearing a black hoodie and Beckham is wearing a black t-shirt, and the depraved part of me is scanning their bodies and salivating. Their dangerous and deadly auras have my mind and body fighting one another, battling for dominance.

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