Chapter05
503 Words
The house smelled worse the second time.
Mildew. Blood. Something sour beneath it all, like spoiled milk. Emma’s stomach turned as the man shoved her through the doorway, her bare feet sticking to the grimy floor.
"Sit," he ordered, gesturing to the mattress with his gun.
She sat.
He watched her for a long moment, then limped to the corner, where a first-aid kit lay open on a rickety table. Emma’s pulse jumped. He was treating his own wound first—that was her chance.
Her eyes darted around the room. No windows. One door. But the floorboards were warped, gaps wide enough to see the basement below. If she could pry one loose—
"Don’t even think about it." He didn’t look up as he dabbed at his thigh with alcohol. "You try to run again, I’ll chain you to the damn wall."
Emma clenched her jaw. "Why am I here?"
No answer.
She tried again, louder. "What do you want?"
The man sighed, finally turning. His mask was off now, tossed aside like it didn’t matter anymore. That scared her more than anything—he wasn’t hiding his face.
He was in his forties, maybe. Hard lines around his mouth, eyes flat and cold. "You’re here because you fit," he said simply.
Fit. The word slithered down her spine.
Before she could ask what that meant, a noise cut through the silence—a muffled thump from below. The basement.
Emma went rigid. There’s someone else.
The man’s expression darkened. He grabbed his gun and stood. "Stay put."
Like hell she would.
The second he left, Emma was on her feet. She pressed her ear to the floor, heart hammering. Voices. A girl’s voice, pleading. "—please, I didn’t mean to—"
A slap. A whimper.
Emma’s hands curled into fists.
She had to see. Had to know.
The floorboard near the wall was loose, nails rusted. She dug her fingers into the gap and pulled. Wood creaked, then gave way with a groan. A cloud of dust billowed up, but beneath it—light. A sliver of the basement.
Emma dropped to her stomach and peered through.
The girl couldn’t have been older than sixteen. Thin, tangled brown hair, wrists bound to a pipe. A bruise bloomed across her cheekbone, fresh and purple.
The man crouched in front of her, his voice a low growl. "You know the rules. No noise."
The girl nodded, tears streaking her dirty face.
Emma’s breath caught. How long had she been down there?
A floorboard creaked behind her.
She barely had time to roll over before the man’s shadow loomed above her, his mouth twisted in a snarl. "I told you to stay put."
Emma scrambled back, but he grabbed her arm, hauling her up. His fingers dug into her bruises, making her gasp.
"You’re curious?" he hissed. "Fine. Let’s go meet your new friend."
He dragged her toward the door—toward the basement stairs.
The girl below began to scream.
- Writer
