Page 102 of Sinister

And so, slowly, my sanity begins to unravel.

Until one night, I can’t take it anymore.

I escaped once. I can do it again.

I just need to know, once and for all, if he’s alive. If he’s safe.

If Sin is still out there.

I wait until the entire household has gone to bed before I begin to seriously consider my plan. Like before, I head straight to the window, unlatching it quietly and peering outside. I can see the security outpost, the sheds where the dogs sleep. The world is still.

I’m about to climb onto the windowsill when I pause.

Is this the right thing to do?

If Sin wasn’t involved, then someone else out there is responsible for the deaths of twenty-five young men. A killer is still loose. And by going out alone, I’d be putting myself in danger.

But the conviction burning inside me is stronger than fear. I have to know. I have to see with my own eyes that he’s alive. That he’s not responsible. I don’t know why it matters so much—it just does.

I can’t stay suspended in this state of not knowing. Of waiting.

Taking a deep breath, I climb onto the windowsill and begin my descent. Like last time, it’s surprisingly easy to make my way outside. Almost too easy. It feels as though the shadows themselves are helping me—wrapping around me, guiding me, shielding me from sight. As if the darkness is on my side.

Once I’m past the gate, I follow the same path I did before, heading toward the university.

But the town feels different tonight.

Last time, even at a late hour, there were people drifting between pubs and shops, conversations and laughter spilling into the streets. This time . . . nothing.

The silence is eerie. The streets are deserted. It’s as though the whole town is holding its breath.

But at least that means no one is around to notice me.

When I finally reach the university, it’s completely dark. Not a single light glows from the windows. Still, when I reach the front gates, they open for me again—just like before.

I step inside cautiously, squinting through the blackness as I move toward the main door. It’s shut tight. I reach for the handle, but it doesn’t budge. Locked.

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that he might be here. Even with the university shut down, he could still be living on the premises. He might still be inside, waiting.

I move around to the back of the building, searching for another entrance. The hedges back here are tall, perfectly sculpted into strange, ornamental shapes that make it difficult to see where I’m going. They twist and wind like a garden maze, and I have to navigate carefully.

Eventually, I manage to find a narrow path through the shrubbery—and just when I think I spot another door ahead, my foot catches.

One wrong step.

I fall.

The breath is knocked clean from my lungs. I hit the ground hard, pain blooming through my side as I struggle to breathe, to orient myself again in the dark.

The fall is steep. As I gather myself, I glance up and realize what happened. I must have stepped on loose stones, and the ground crumbled beneath me. Now I’m somewhere underground, in what looks like a tunnel or an old passageway.

I can see the night sky far above, but there’s no way I can climb back up. The drop is too high, the walls too sheer. My only option is to move forward and hope there’s another way out.

Fear prickles down my spine. Good Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

Considering those pagan rituals originated in the university, the fact that I am here, underground, alone and trapped, terrifies me even more.

What if, in my misguided attempt to find Sin, I find myself in the midst of another ritual?