9
The sound of a spade cutting through dirt wakes me.
Where am I?
I quickly take in the room—the old, beaten up couch that I’m lying on, the crumbling plaster on the walls, the smell of mould in the air—and realise that I’m back exactly where I started.
How the hell did I get back here?
Kate.
There’s that digging sound again. My eyes go to the front door and I notice Darren’s body is missing, replaced by a thick streak of blood, disappearing through the thin gap under the door.
She’s burying him outside.
I should never have drunk that rabbit’s blood. Even the thought makes me heave. I should have listened to Kate. But how? She’s out of her mind. She’d have me believe anything as long as it suits her. God knows what she’s already planted in my head with all that psychic s**t.
Altho
