Page 46 of Don't Watch Alone
“She’s in here,” Robert whispers. “Little mouse. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
The metal creaks. Then, a wet crunching sound, like something was being crushed. Iflinch, but I remain still. The air is getting colder. I feel them approaching, a quiet desire filling every space around me. I’m desperate to get away, but the only route is directly back through them.
I’m trapped. A mouse in the maze. And the cats are already here.
Chapter twenty-four
Blaiz
Someone’sfootstepsstalkmein the room, enjoying the fear churning my insides with a slow, patient pace.
“Blaiz…” Christian’s voice moves through the hall. “You can run, but you can’t leave. This mall’s a grave, and you’re the last little body waiting for a tag.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, smothering the whimper that is trying to escape.
Then—CLANG!
The sound booms behind me. A harsh scraping of metal against metal. Robert. The floor and my legs are vibrating as he hits the shelves with a crowbar.
“You hear that?” he shouts. “Every noise in this place points right to you.”
Fear pushes me ahead. My shoes slap against the tile, the echo chasing me as fast asthe men behind it. Christian’s laughter spikes, shrill and giddy. He’s getting closer.
I shove through a service door into a dark space. The air here is thick with dust, tasting like old cardboard and rust. Boxed toys tower in uneven rows.
I duck behind a stack of crates, pressing my back to the cold, rough cardboard. My chest rises and falls. I try to hold my breath, but it trembles out of me in labored puffs.
The door creaks open.
Footsteps.
“Hide and seek,” Christian murmurs, a singsong taunt that crawls under my skin. “My favorite game.”
My gaze is caught by a fire extinguisher mounted to the wall, just past the next row of crates. I drop to my hands and knees, creeping toward it. The swishing of plastic, the moving of cardboard; each sound pierces the silence like a scream.
The footsteps stop.
The world goes still.
“Found you,” Robert growls from the other side of the crates.
My instincts naturally take control. I grab the extinguisher and swing with everything I have. It smashes into flesh and bone with a wet, shattering impact. A cry bursts out with pain and rage, but I don’t know which one it’s from.
I’m already running past the crates and out the opposite door. My shoes pound the tile of the second floor, the mall extending before me. As I run, dead storefronts reflect my image, a spirit running within her own horrific dream.
Robert’s shout vibrates the area behind me. Christian laughs like the mall is a living, hungry thing.
The nonfunctional escalator is up ahead. I throw myself onto the black steps, sliding and stumbling to the first floor. My legs scream, but I don’t slow down. I won’t stop until I crash through a clothing store, disappearing into its dark emptiness.
Footsteps get louder as they approach. They have more speed than I care to admit. I hide behind a line of mannequins, theirglossy white faces showing no emotion. My sweat drips onto the tile as I crouch down, gripping the fire extinguisher like a lifeline.
The store goes quiet, except for the distant echo of the ventilation system.
Then Christian’s whisper, winding through the racks:
“Last chance, Blaiz. Make this fun… or make it messy.”
My knuckles turn pale around the extinguisher. My heart tells me I won’t survive this.
