Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Hope rises in my chest and it pushes me faster. I could get out of here tonight. I could be free.
The maze is thick and twice my height, making it impossible to try and map out a path. I have to rely on my senses, and right now, they’re not saying a lot, just to keep running and put as much distance between me and the brothers as possible.
Apart from my feet slamming against the hard ground and my rapid, sharp pants as I run, the maze is silent. There’s no rustling of bushes, no familiar sound of the night, no owls or even a soft breeze, just dead silence.
The haunting thought of this being some kind of graveyard for the brothers’ many kills filters through my mind, sending my blood cold as shivers trails down my spine. I push the thought aside, but with every step I take, the image of zombified hands shooting up through the dirty ground and capturing my ankles haunts my mind.
The small hope of freedom is like a beacon shining brightly inside me, keeping me going despite the lack of energy pulsing through my veins. I haven’t eaten properly in so long that my energy is quickly draining, but my determination to find freedom keeps me going.
The silence consumes me, stealing every last ounce of sanity I have left as I try to navigate my way through the maze. I go left and right before coming to a dead end and doubling back, only to go down a path that I’ve already been.
I keep going, but this time I take the second right instead of waiting for the third, and as I make my turn, my gaze shifts up and I see the massive home in all its glory with the moonlight shining against it.
It’s a haunting sight and I almost hate myself for being right … Well, mostly right. It’s not technically a castle, but it’s the closest thing to it. The boys’ home looks like a gothic Tudor-style mansion from the 1500s, complete with the gargoyles at its peaks. Old vines wind up around the walls of the mansion and most of the windows are protected with bars. There must be hundreds of rooms inside.
I’m fucked. So damn fucked.
Ten minutes turn into twenty and before I know it, I’m positive that I’ve run down every possible path. Tears well in my eyes and as they fall down my face, I push myself on, but every passing second, that small beacon of hope inside me starts dwindling, its bright light burning out and telling me that I was a fool to allow myself to hope for a future.
I turn back for the millionth time and keep trying. My clothes are torn and my arms, face, and feet are cut up from the overgrown, stray branches, but I’m determined not to give up. I must have missed something.
I’m deep inside the maze and my brain is fried. I can’t even remember which way I’ve turned or how to get back to where I started. My chest hurts from gasping for breath and my feet ache from the uneven ground. This is more running than I’ve ever done in my life. If I knew that running through creepy mazes barefoot in the middle of the night was in my future, I would have at least hit the gym a few times to prepare.
A rustle in the bushes beside me has me coming up short as a cold chill sweeps through me. Up until then, this maze was silent. A branch snapping to my right has me whipping around but another rustle in the hedges behind me has me spinning full circle.
They’re here with me.
“Are you lost?” a haunting whisper asks from in front of me, the overwhelming darkness making it impossible to pinpoint exactly where they are. “I can help you.”
I go to my right, creeping through the maze in the opposite direction to the noises I’d heard while desperately trying to mask my heavy breathing. If I can’t see them, there’s a good chance that they can’t see me either, but I’d be a fool to be so naive.
“Don’t be like that,” another voice whispers through the thick bushes. “We won’t bite ... much.”
A comment like that has to have come from Marcus, but I’m not willing to hang around to find out.
I take off at another sprint, but this time, the silence no longer exists. The rustling of the leaves follows me, coming from all angles, branches breaking and feet slamming against the hard ground.
I turn a corner only to find a shadowy figure waiting for me at the end, forcing me to double back as fear rockets through me. Every step I take, every turn I make, they’re there, waiting for me to fall right into their trap.