Page 77 of Impenitent Claim

Stupid. Stupid.Stupido ragazzo!

Clutching my cornicello, I let the tangle of thoughts in my head run their course, knowing they were bound to knot rather than clear. The only thing I could resolve was not giving up.

Chapter 31 – Isabella

When the attendant lowered the rope for our party to begin the journey into the belly of the ship, a rush of excitement went through our little group. There were only seven young people from our organization, plus five from the Conti Famiglia. They were cold and distant, despite Alonzo’s best efforts to make small talk. Gio ignored the girl wedged between her beefy cousins, preferring to converse with Matteo, which made Alonzo try even harder to chit-chat. My poor fiancé—he was not cut out to be a diplomat. He couldn’t read the social situation or navigate the complexities of such an interaction. After the way the celebration with the Contis ended, their coolness was understandable. That was fine by me; the relationship didn’t need to be forced between Gio and the don’s daughter.

As the creepy sound effects greeted us, I felt my body relaxing. We were just a group of young people, doing what normal people did on their Saturday nights. It was a strange, albeit invigorating feeling.

Shuffling forward, the guys made jokes about who would scream first. The haunted ship promised adventure and escapefrom normalcy. Rosa looped her arm with Benedetta’s. They huddled behind the wall of boys. I followed them, with the other guys taking up the rear. We were quickly enveloped in a thick, eerie darkness that seemed to pulse with anticipation. The air felt cool and slightly damp, like stepping into an old, forgotten cellar. Each step I took on the creaky metal floor echoed faintly, mingling with the distant, haunting noises playing over the speakers. Not only was the ship haunted, but there was an adventure attached to our trek through the hull. It was called an escape room, something I’d never done. There was a 1940’s war anthem, meant to boost the troops’ morale as they sailed to the European Front. The story was that this ship was lost at sea but reappeared completely empty.

Or so it seemed.

Ghostly whispers and ominous creaks filled the air, sending delightful shivers down my spine. The smell of artificial fog, mixed with a hint of salty sea, created an otherworldly atmosphere. Occasionally, I caught the scent of cologne or perfume wafting from the others, a harsh contrast to the creepy interior. As we navigated the narrow hallways, the dim, flickering lights cast unsettling shadows that danced along the walls, giving life to the inanimate and heightening the sense of anticipation.

A ghoulish sailor sat up from a bunk.

Matteo screamed like a little bitch.

We doubled over in a fit of unified laughter, pointing and jeering at the twenty-one-year-old. Even the Contis chuckled. But the mirth died as a figure ambled down the hall. The actor’s gait was disjointed and monstrous. Most of the others yelped and cried out, angling down the other hall.

Unlike other haunted houses, we were the only group down here for our allotted time and could move about the entireexhibit at our leisure. There was something about rescuing the logbook so the Axis Powers couldn’t use it against us.

Personally, I doubted we would last long enough down here to scope out the layout, let alone complete the mission. A pity. After the hell of dress fitting and other wedding preparations, I decided I was looking forward to this evening's event. Around the next turn, something prickled at the base of my spine. I looked around to see what warning presented itself, but nothing appeared.

The passageway we moved down glowed red. My fingertips brushed against the smooth, chilled walls as I moved forward, grounding me in the reality of the place despite the eerie surroundings. The suspense built with every turn, knowing that at any moment, an actor could leap out from a hidden corner or secret panel. When they did, their sudden, exaggerated movements and guttural growls were more thrilling than terrifying. The anticipation of the unknown kept my heart racing but not from fear. I couldn’t help but grin, appreciating the effort and artistry that went into each scare.

We were children of a criminal organization. Nothing about this replicated supernatural place could compare to the monsters in the real world.

But I enjoyed the hell out of the fright of the others.

I reveled in the chilling vibes, the playful terror that made the experience so enjoyable. My ears picked up every sound—the scraping of chains, the distant, echoing laughter, the soft hum of the hidden speakers—each one adding layers to the spine-tingling ambiance. Despite the crafted spookiness, I remained composed, savoring the blend of sensations that made the haunted battleship a perfect mix of fun and fright.

And yet I couldn’t shake the lingering weight of somethingotherbeing down here. Something far more frightening thanghouls or gangsters. A malicious, sinister presence that would never hurt me.

I’m being silly.

There was no way my spectre was down here. What business would Ilya have, stalking us through a Halloween amusement attraction? But I couldn’t shake the feeling.

“This way,” I insisted, tugging on Gio’s sleeve. The familiar chill rushed over me, and I rubbed the gooseflesh on my arms. It was unlikely it had to do with the paid-for surroundings and my fried mental state. There were no Russian cage fighters down here. “The blueprints showed a hatch over here that leads to the control room.”

“Let’s go back,” Rosa wailed.

If my eyes rolled any harder, they would fall out of my head. I pushed through the trio in front and reached for the hatch. Another actor appeared at the end of the hall. My comrades screamed bloody murder and bolted.

I used their fear to slip through the hatch.

Only to realize the schematics were backward. This hatch led to the missile room. Those great tubes that once housed torpedoes seemed likely places for an actor to hide. I approached them.

A footstep sounded behind me.

Heart in my throat, I spun around, raising my flashlight. “I see you.”

This actor was different. He wore a three-piece suit, all black and not military. His mask was also black, a sheet of plastic with eyeholes. He paused by the hatch and threw the lock.

Real, soul-consuming fear washed over me in a wave. I stumbled back, hitting the metal wall. Warning bells pealed in my mind as tingles of alarm shot down my spine.

This wasn’t how this game was supposed to go. And this stranger probably knew it.

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