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SAGE
The door squeaked loudly as I opened it, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit room. The only light was coming from candles. The flames danced along the walls, and most of the room was cast in shadows. It was impossible to see how big it was.
The walls were worn-out gray cement with what looked like dozens of crosses hanging on them. The huge, elegant dark oak tables looked out of place in this run-down room. Above me were two iron archaic-looking chandeliers. The white candles on the chandeliers were unlit. Even though this room was old, it had been kept up. Not one cobweb in the corners that I could see.
I ran my hand along the table closest to me and inspected it in the candlelight. Not one speck of dust. The room was important to someone. I glanced down at the table to see scissors and a bunch of twine. To my right was another table, and on it were about five knives, all different lengths and sizes. Another table had what looked like hypodermic needles with fluid in them. My stomach dropped. The same kind of needle Jamie had.
What kind of place was this?I crept farther into the room to look for a place to hide and hoped there was no one on the other side of the room in the shadows. Spotting a door down the wall, I picked up my speed. It was the only hiding place I could see. I passed a candle perched on the wall and glanced at the cross right next to me. Freezing, I did a double take before inspecting the it.
Fear cemented me in place when I realized what I was looking at. Those weren’t wooden crosses; they were made with hair. Braided hair. I examined it as nausea coiled in my stomach. Yes, definitely hair. And the color looked like red or orange. The braids were tied off with pieces of twine with another piece of twine in the center connecting the two braided pieces to make the shape of the cross.
I turned around and looked at the tables again, realizing what the scissors and twine were for. Losing confidence that hiding here was smart, I began to back up toward the door. I went perfectly still when a groan rang out through the silence. Crouched against the wall, I tried to make myself as invisible as possible when I heard the noise again.
It was coming from the back of the room, where it was too dark for me to make anything out. If Jamie had found me, he wouldn’t have waited or been this quiet about it. I warily made my way closer to where the noise was coming from. As I got closer, I could make out another table. This one had something large on it and was covered in a black sheet. I gripped the top of the cloth, not sure I was ready to find out what was under it. After tugging the sheet down, I froze in disbelief.
It was Lacey.
“Oh my God. No. No. Lacey. Wake up.” I was almost screaming, and even though I knew I needed to be quiet, I couldn’t control my voice. I was in full panic mode as Lacey lay there, unmoving.
“Please. Wake up,” I cried out, shaking her. Nothing I did fazed her. Pressing my ear to her chest, I let out a shaky breath when her heart thudded. Standing back up, I tried to pull her off the table and realized that large metal cuffs clasped around her ankles and wrists had her locked in tight.
I began to hyperventilate as I spun around, looking frantically for a key. Suddenly, a large hand covered my mouth. My scream was muffled as I tried tearing away. An arm wrapped around my body before dragging me away from the table Lacey was imprisoned on.
“Shh. It’s me. We have to go,” Alex whispered as he pulled me away. Relief flooded through me that it was Alex, but it was instantly replaced with fear that we were leaving Lacey. Trying to talk through his hand was impossible, so I pointed at the table, trying to show him that we needed to go back.
Ignoring me, he opened the door I had first planned to hide behind, and I got a glimpse of a mop bucket and brooms before I was thrown into darkness. The sound of a door creaking open filled the room. Lacey started to make noise then; it sounded like she was finally waking up.
Then chanting began.
There were vents in the door, and people walked past where we were hiding, heading straight for my sister. All were wearing black robes with hoods on, making it impossible to see their faces. There had to be at least ten people. The room was bright with light wherever they walked because of the lanterns they carried.
The chanting was in a different language, and although it sounded familiar, I couldn’t put a finger on where I’d heard it before. Alex’s arms were like chains wrapped around me, and even as I fought against him, I couldn’t move. I craned my neck and peered through the vent to see the table Lacey was on.
“Wha…what’s going on? Who are you people? What do you want? Let me go. Please let me go. I’ll do whatever you want.” Lacey was crying. She had finally woken up with the robed people circling her. Her cries were ignored while they continued chanting. I was still fighting futilely against Alex. I couldn’t sit here and leave Lacey alone. Alex only tightened his grip. His breath hit my neck before his lips brushed against my ear.
“Baby, there’s nothing we can do. We can’t go out there. I know she’s your sister, I know. And I’m so sorry, but I can save you.”
He wasn’t even breaking a sweat while he kept me in his arms. I watched helplessly as Lacey continued to plead and scream. She was pulling at the restraints as hard as she could. I tried blinking away the hot tears invading my vision. My sister’s screams were ripping me apart, and I was fucking powerless to help.
The people continued their chanting, getting louder and louder until they drowned out Lacey’s cries. One of them slowly walked over to the table with the knives and picked one up. He seemed to inspect it before he slowly walked back to join the others. The person with the knife went to the head of the table and stared down at Lacey.
He slowly raised the knife above his head, and the chants were now deafening. Lacey was struggling against her bonds, trying to free herself, while pleading as loud as she could over the voices, but it was useless. Suddenly, the knife was plunged into Lacey’s heart. All that could be heard were the chants echoing off the walls.
My struggles stopped as I stared in a daze at my sister. My mind could not process what my eyes had just witnessed. Lacey lay there, motionless, with the knife still buried deep in her chest. Blood started to spill onto the table from the stab wound. Snapping out of it, I began thrashing uncontrollably. Alex grunted, actually needing to try to keep me from escaping out of his arms. The only reason my wailing couldn’t be heard was because they were still chanting.
Another cloaked person walked to a table, grabbed the scissors, and cut small pieces of twine. He walked back and handed the twine to another man who was standing near Lacey’s head. Gently turning her head to the side, he separated her hair into two sections and then tied them both off with twine, making two loose ponytails. Then he took the scissors and cut her hair off above the tied twine and handed the two sections of hair to another man.
He walked to another table right in front of our hiding place and set the hair down and began to braid it. He tied each end off and put one braid across the other to make it into the shape of a cross and tied twine around the center. I watched in horror and denial of what was happening. Glancing at all the crosses on the wall, I felt like I was going to throw up.
How many people had been killed in this room?
The cloaked man who had ended Lacey’s life walked over to the table with a lantern and seemed to inspect the braided cross. The other who braided it held it up to show the others. A glare came from the person’s hand in the lantern light. My eyes zeroed in on the hand, knowing I recognized something.
