My heart beats fast, adrenaline pushing me onward.
Cynthia walks at my side. The three of us as one unit.
We are walking death.
I'm not familiar with the portion of The Morgue we walk into. Looking around, all I see are hallways. I start down one, seeing cells.
Patients are in every single one—men and women. The ZYGOS guys silently go down the row, picking the locks.
The first cell opens, and a guy stands on shaky feet. He’s young, likely close to my age. “Who are you?”
“We’re here to rescue you all,” I answer. “We’re getting you the fuck out of here.”
The man scoots out quickly, and we empty each cell efficiently. The freed students stay behind us, guarded by our team.
We go around a corner, spotting even more cells. I had no idea there were so many prisoners.
Letting them out, we get to the stairs. A few of the ZYGOS guys hang back with the patients, and the rest of us go up to the next level.
Now, this one I know. The torture rooms; how lovely.
We cautiously make our way down, peering into every room to be sure it’s clear.
Going to another set of stairs, we start to ascend, when we hear voices coming from above us.
My blood boils, and I taste it. Them. The masks. I feel the bloodlust come over me, and I shudder in delight.
Sam looks right at me, seeing it. “Control it, Em. Please.”
I bite my lip and nod but charge up the stairs like a bull seeing a red flag.
The three of us burst out the door first, and Jester tips his head back and laughs. “Look who came to play. 3, 6, and 11.”
Cynthia beelines for him, clutching a large butcher knife in her fist.
Sam goes for Horns, and I smile maliciously as I close in on Skull. Choosing to use my blade, I palm it, hiding it from view.
The sound of fighting reaches my ears, but I’m lasered in on this fucking piece of shit Skull.
“You are a psychotic rapist, and for that, you will die,” I sass.
“You can try,” Skull scoffs.
“Where is your leader, huh? Conveniently missing?” My grin is so malicious, there’s no mistaking it’s meaning.
“You bitch! What did you do to him?” Skull bellows.
I just keep the smile pasted on my face, waiting for him to get close enough. “What do you think?”
He gets in front of me, reaching out to clasp my throat in his fist. Still smiling, I bring my arm up holding the razor-sharp blade and try to slash it across his neck.
Before I can connect, the asshole blocks my arm, tossing me to the floor, still holding onto my throat. He knocks my blade to the side, adding his second hand to my neck, squeezing the life out of me. He is straddling me, snarling.
I start to see stars, the blackness closing in on me. I attempt to beat him off with my fists, and buck him off, but he holds firm. Panic takes hold of me, my eyes wide with fear.
From one blink to the next, Skull’s hands fall away from my throat. I gasp and wheeze, sucking in lungful's of oxygen.
A hand reaches to help me up. A grinning Cynthia stands there, looking very proud of herself.
