Page 21 of Silent Night

Natalie's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. There's movement. The window's unlocked, so I could climb down through it."

Natalie hesitated, her gaze flicking between Sheila and the house. The tension in her jaw betrayed her frustration at being unable to join her sister.

"Go ahead," she finally said, her voice firm. "If you think there could be someone who needs help, you have every right to enter the house. But be careful, okay? I'll call for backup, just in case."

Sheila nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. As she headed back to the basement window, doubt crept into her mind. What if this wasn't part of their investigation? What if they were meddling in some innocent person's affairs?

But the memory of those muffled noises haunted her, compelling her to push forward. If there was even a chance that someone needed help, she couldn't ignore it.

Sheila's fingers trembled as she grasped the window's edge, pushing it open with a quiet creak. She hesitated, her gaze darting between the window and the dark depths of the basement. Had she really heard something, or had it only been her imagination? Her heart thundered in her chest, betraying her uncertainty.

A muffled moan came from within, snapping her back to reality. Someone needed help. Sheila steeled herself and stepped onto the window ledge, carefully lowering herself into the black abyss. Her legs dangled as she searched for a foothold, and once she found one, she descended as silently as possible.

Once inside, Sheila reached for her phone, its screen casting a dim light that barely illuminated a wall lined with shelves covered with an assortment of items: power tools, boxes of nails and screws, buckets of plaster, ceiling tiles, copper tubing, and other tools. The air was musty, heavy with dampness, and she could feel the cold seeping through her sneakers as she ventured farther into the room.

"Hello?" she whispered. "Is anyone there?"

A soft rustling sounded behind her, causing her to whip around, her phone's light sweeping across the room. It fell upon a woman bound to the wall by chains, her wrists raw and her face a mixture of fear and relief. Her once-vibrant red hair hung limp and dirty, framing a face streaked with grime and tears.

Sheila's heart thundered in her chest as she took in the sight of the woman, chained and suffering. The woman's eyes, bloodshot and desperate, seemed to scream for help, even though her gag prevented any words from escaping her lips.

"It's okay," Sheila whispered, her fingers trembling as she reached out to grasp the ragged cloth that silenced the captive. "I'm going to get you out of here."

As Sheila worked to loosen the gag, the woman's eyes darted around the room, her fear palpable. Her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, as she anticipated her rescuer's next move. Sheila could hear her own breaths coming in short gasps, her mind racing with each tug at the fabric.

"Stay calm," she told the woman, trying to keep her own voice steady. "I'm going to get you out of here."

With one final pull, the gag came free, and the woman's labored breathing filled the silence. She swallowed hard before speaking, her voice barely a whisper. "He's...he's here."

"Who?" Sheila's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening.

Before she could process the woman's warning, light flooded the basement, casting stark shadows on the cold concrete floor. Sheila spun around, her pulse hammering in her ears as she saw a hulking figure descending the stairs, each step seeming to echo in the small room, like the slow tick of a clock counting down.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sheila's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the hulking figure descend the basement steps, his massive form backlit by the light from upstairs. She could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead as her fear threatened to consume her. But behind that fear was a fierce determination.

She would not allow this monster to hurt his prisoner again.

"Run," the woman chained to the wall behind Sheila whispered, her voice hoarse and desperate.

Sheila swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the man, never leaving him for a moment. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and tried to remember all the years of training she'd undergone—the countless hours spent honing her body into a weapon.

"Who are you?" the man asked, his deep voice sending shivers down Sheila's spine.

"I'm with the police," she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded. "And you're under arrest."

The man studied her for a moment, his eyes as dark and cold as the void of space. The silence stretched between them like a taut wire, ready to snap.

"You shouldn't have interfered," he said finally, his voice low and dangerous.

For a brief moment, doubt flickered through Sheila's mind. Was she really capable of taking down this giant? She pushed the thought away, reminding herself that she had trained for fighting opponents who outmatched her in size and strength. Her determination returned, fueled by her desire to protect the woman behind her and bring this man to justice.

"You mean I should've let you continue torturing this woman?" she asked. "Not going to happen. You're not going to lay another finger on her, so help me God."

The man's face twisted into a snarl, and he charged at Sheila like a wild animal. Her heart hammered in her chest as she faced the monstrous figure barreling toward her. Everything around her seemed to slow down, and her instincts, honed by years of intense training, took over.

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