Page 29 of Love Sick

“They call her Kitty.”

I put two and two together and realize the girl with the cat finger puppet is Kitty.

From the anger in Old Timer’s tone, it’s clear he wants his revenge on Noah too. I wonder why he hasn’t acted sooner. Maybe he just found out what happened? Or maybe he is biding his time like we all are?

“Thank you.”

If I’ve ever run faster, I don’t remember because I get to the booth in seconds. Yanking open the door, I see a man inside who stands by the open door. I grip his shoulder in gratitude and do as Old Timer says and run into the darkness.

It takes a while for my eyes to adjust, but when they do, I take off into a dead sprint. I extend my arm out so my fingertips can touch the wall and when I feel the unmissable scratch marks carved into the cement walls, a shiver rocks me from head to toe.

My bare feet splash in the puddles of water, and I wonder what these tunnels are used for. Nothing good, clearly. When I see the two tunnels, I take the one on the right, as Old Timer suggested.

I keep on running blindly, hoping I find what I’m looking for.

My raspy breath bounces off the walls and the urgency to this situation is almost suffocating. I am putting my faith in a stranger and I don’t know what I’m running toward. But when I see an old wooden door a few yards away, there’s no turning back now.

The large brass handle is as antique-looking as the door, so I have no idea where this leads to. Any sensible person would stop and think rationally about this, but I don’t think twice as I turn the handle, sighing in relief when it whines open.

There are no lights, so I assume the power is also out wherever and whatever this is. I walk into what I assume is a basement from the cold, hard floor. The only source of light I have is from the full moon which shines through the small window.

It’s enough for me to see a wooden staircase ahead.

This is how every horror movie starts or ends.

I take the stairs quietly, pausing when the wood protests under my weight. I don’t know where this leads, so I need to be careful. This may be my only chance. Once I reach the top of the stairs, I grip the door handle and suck in a deep breath.

I exhale when it turns and carefully open the door. I brace myself for anything, but what I see leaves me confused. I expected to be confronted with some horror scene, but instead, I see tapestries on the wall and a collection of spoons from all over the world.

The unmistakable smell of lavender and bleach hits my nostrils and I cover my mouth, attempting not to gag.

Closing the door behind me, I wonder which way I should go. I’m in the middle of a corridor, however, half is carpeted, while the other is linoleum. This was done with intent. I trust my gut, and follow the linoleum path that winds around a wall.

The hallway is long, but I can see a doorway at the end of it. There isn’t a door, which strikes me as odd. And that’s the reason I walk toward it.

I mask my footsteps as best I can, but a sheen of perspiration coats every inch of my skin. I’m scared. For the first time in my life, I’m fearful to see what’s behind door number one.

I focus on the doorway, straining my eyes in hopes I can make out something which will hint at what’s inside.

The smell of lavender only gets stronger. I’ve smelled this before…I just can’t remember when.

Steps away from the doorway, I take a quivering breath before walking inside. It’s dark, but I think I can see two single beds and the reason I think that is because these images are ingrained in my mind—the beds are similar to the ones in Parkfields.

Now the question is, who’s inside of them?

“Who’s there?”

And just like that, two words have the ability to render me to my knees.

Even in the darkness, Dutch is my beacon of hope, and like a ship coming home, he is my guiding light.

“Luna?”

Tears instantly tumble down my cheeks because he knows it’s me. He may not be able to see me, but our connection runs so deep, it’s enough for him to know that I’m here.

“It’s me.”

Composing myself, I sniff back my tears and race toward where his voice came from. I still can’t see anything, but the moment I reach his bedside, I am overcome by his unique fragrance and without thought, I throw myself into his arms.

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