Page 195 of Love at First Fright

twenty-eight

Charlie

The cupboard door splintered under my shoulder. Finally.

Fucking, finally.

I stumbled into the corridor, breathing hard, sweat sticking my shirt to my back. My shoulder throbbed where I’d rammed it against the wood over and over. Take that, Brad. Apparently breaking down doors wasn’t such an impossible feat after all—just a bloody painful one that took twenty minutes of sustained assault.

Molly materialised directly in front of me. She wrung her translucent hands together.

“Sir, please. I have strict instructions to keep you safe. Master Bartholomew was very clear—”

“It’s okay.” I tried to grab her shoulders, my fingers threading straight through cold air. “Molly, we need to ignore Bat’s instructions. We need to help him.”

Her one eye widened. “But, sir—”

I was already moving, flying down the spiral staircase, two steps at a time.

Down the corridor. The basement door gaped open at the end. My trainers slapped against floorboards as I ran, heart skittering.

The blood hit me first.

Dark. Pooled at the bottom of the stairs. Splattered up the walls in arterial sprays. The electric saw lay discarded on the floor, blade still spinning, whining down to silence. What the actual…?

But the door.

The door was still sealed shut. Metal bands intact. Like it had never been touched.

“Where… where is everyone?” I whispered to the empty manor.

“They’re all down there.”

I spun round. Vivian stood at the top of the stairs, perfectly composed in her grey dress, blonde pin curls in place.

“Everyone,” she continued. “The priest. The Lancasters. Your prat of a colleague. And Bat.”

My stomach lurched. “They’re through the door?”

“It dragged them through.” She descended one step, her movements fluid and theatrical. “Well, Harrison Lancaster, at least. The others followed one by one. Then the door flew back up. Resealed itself. As if it had never opened at all.”

I charged down the stairs.

The blood squelched under my feet. I didn’t care. I reached the door and threw myself against it.

Solid. Immovable. Like hitting a brick wall.

“Bat!” I slammed my fists against the metal. “Bat, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

I hit it again. Again. My poor shoulders screamed in protest. The door didn’t even rattle.

“Bat, please!” My voice cracked horribly. “Please come back!”

Silence pressed against my ears. Heavy. Suffocating.

Why was it so silent down there?!