There were no lights further in. No signs that it even ended anywhere. The police — he assumed — had brought torches. Giant lamps on stands hot enough to turn the sour stench of wetness to the consistency of a swamp.
But it was the walls. The patches of illuminated stone shiny with running water from above. The harsh, frantic scribbles. The jagged lines and angry slashes over and over across … forever.Hundreds upon hundreds. Like a child writing lines. But the words…
“That’s…”
The detective, studiously studying his face, nodded. “And that’s why you’re here.”
The companion turned clumsily, brown eyes enormous as he took in more. Endless and forever.
“But…” It didn’t make sense. “I don’t understand…”
Etienne Duval.
His wife Sarai Duval and their two sons, Augustus and Bernard Duval.
Julen Duval.
His wife Adela Duval.
Their children Noah and Patricia Duval
Julen.
Julen.
Julen.
Over and over and over.
Everywhere. In every color. Small and loopy. Enormous and carved with rage.
“I don’t understand,” Julen gasped again. “Why? I barely knew the girl. Outside of offering my condolences, I’ve never spoken to her. How does she know my wife’s name? My children? My brothers and their families?”
“I couldn’t tell you.” Water sloshed as the detective moved to stand beside him. “But my theory is that you were the last person her uncle and cousins went to see before they died. Your name was the last one she remembered. The neighbor reported that Lenora Usher would simply wander the corridors all hours of the day and night. Her light, moving from room to room. I think, in her grief, she lost herself.”
Julen rubbed a clammy hand over his face. “Jesus. That poor girl. Where is she now?”
He didn’t know if there was anything he could do, but he would try. He lost his parents a few years back and he understood the weight it took on a person. He had Addy and the kids. To leave three holes filled with the only people left in your life and coming back to this place alone…
He may not know what he could do, but he’d do what he could to help her.
“Don’t know. We think she’s in here, still, somewhere. Maybe she’s lost or hurt. Damn place is a maze. It’s like they kept building on top of old structures without taking it apart so there’s doors that lead into walls and stairs I swear go down straight to hell.” The detective clicked his tongue. “We’re looking but we’re not hopeful we’ll find her. We’d need an army.”
Julen glanced further down the passage where the shadows congealed and pulsed.
“What’s that way?”
The other man chuckled grimly. “Come. I’ll show you.”
Julen hadn’t asked to be shown but found his feet following against his will.
It wasn’t as far in as he’d expected. Barely ten feet and that was walking straight into the void.
A bend and a door. Kissed by a light that shouldn’t exist. Didn’t exist. The detective was standing at his shoulder, their clothes brushing, and Julen couldn’t see any part of him, yet the door was a vivid, soggy barricade.
Cold sweat breathed across the back of his neck. Chills clawed down his spine. His mother had always been the religious one, but Julen found himself reciting the Lord’s Prayer under his breath.
The detective nudged the barricade open with only five fingertips, and it gave much too easily. As if all too eager to have them step in.
