Calista
I couldn’t stop shaking, not from the cold, but from the screams still echoing in my skull. The children crushed under paws. The laughter. The blood.
Azazel didn’t say a word as he carried me—until he suddenly dropped me to my feet. My knees buckled. I barely caught myself before hitting the floor.
“Get a hold of yourself!” he barked.
Then he turned and kicked the heavy metal door in. It slammed open with a loud bang.
What I saw inside made the screams in my head seem like lullabies.
The stench of blood and decay hit first. Rows of metal beds stretched out, all empty, but the straps still hung from them. Jars lined the shelves—fangs, claws, entire jaws floating in yellowed liquid. The walls were stained with dried blood and claw marks.
What in the world is this? This wasn
