Page 20 of Shattered Souls

“Look at her,” An older man points at me beside his wife. I snap my teeth at them, causing both of them to take a timid step backwards.

The park is only open for three hours a night, and I’m fairly sure I’ve already wasted half of that time getting drug back into the forsaken maze. I need to strengthen my strategy if I’m making it out of here.

I cannot last one more day in those bare walls.

I make it to the corner with the food trucks this time. My stomach whines at the wafts of warm and filling food as they encircle my skull. My mouth waters and I can do nothing but curse my prior self for not eating those stupid eggs.

The tables are full of people snacking and laughing with their friends. I find one in the back that’s relatively empty and sink down onto the cool plastic seat. I lay my head on the table and try to calm my mind.

This is exactly what happens to people that allow others to take the fall for their crime.

I let my throbbing feet breathe as my head circles around what my life would’ve been like if I went to the police that day. Would I have finished college? Would I have gotten a stable job and moved on? Would I have found a man and settled down?

No matter what my path was, it always would’ve turned back to the memory of Dad. Innocent or guilty, normal or fugitive, I’ll always be stuck with the sight of him bleeding out on the ground.

I’m jarred from my thoughts when something slaps down on the table in front of me. I slowly pick up my head and see the steaming plate of pizza. My eyes travel up more, Hyde.

He points at the plate and signs for me to eat.

I stare at him, waiting for him to snatch the plate back and laugh in my face. When he doesn’t, I pull the plate closer and take a bite of the hot food.

My shoulders slump and I almost moan as the grease coats my dry mouth. I take three more bites, my stomach already cramping from eating too fast, before I finally look up at him.

I bring my fingers to my chin and sign thank you to him.

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before thinning back out to a bored expression.

He moves his hands but it’s too quick for me to make out anything other than the word sign.

“I-I know a little, but you’re too fast for me.” I tell him.

He comes closer to me and crouches so I can see his face better. He holds his hand up and begins slowly finger spelling for me. I have to really push my memory to recall all of the letters.

RUN LITTLE SCARECROW

Before I can even process the words, he scoops me up and carries me back to the maze. I’m beyond grateful that he doesn’t throw me over his shoulder so that my few bites of food will stay down.

Having some of my energy back, I turn and bolt as soon as he places me down. I make it out in seconds this time, not taking a single wrong turn. I look both ways, looking for a certain shirtless man with a machete.

I spot him to my left, so I turn right.

An announcement plays over the speakers that the park is officially closed and all guests must make it to the exit. That’s it. I’ve lost.

They’re going to take me back to that small room.

The manor is right in front of me and an idea blooms in my head.

Dressed as a scare actor, I can get in and see if what I saw last night was real. After all, I only spent all night last night thinking about the man that looked too real. Especially after seeing Hyde slaughter Mateo.

This is so stupid.

I playfully bound over to the exit of the manor. The man with the syringe is prowling the path a few feet away from the door I need to enter. He’s watching guests closely, making sure they leave as instructed.

I’m able to sneak past him and through the thick plastic divider that enters the basement.

The room is cold, and tangibly wet.

There are many tables, some upright while others lay flat. Most of them have black body bags that look unnaturally lumpy. I push forward and try to find the man from yesterday.