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Then she remembered how the floor depressed a bit when she stepped inside the glass box. That might be part of the release. She slammed her foot down, thinking it might need force to disengage. No. Dread washed over her as she realized the one thing she hadn’t tried or done was to close the heavy door to the hermetic chamber she was in.
The childhood memory resurfaced. A former foster parent used to lock Dylan in a small closet for hours as punishment. Alone in the dark, she developed a lifelong phobia of enclosed spaces. Unsurprisingly, it did nothing to correct the delinquent behaviors. Instead, she became adept at getting away with them. Over the years, Dylan turned the avoidance of triggering situations into an art form. Until now. It would take all her strength to steel herself against the growing fear.
She pulled the glass front door toward her. As the airtight seal engaged, a high-pitched hiss filled the small space and the air thinned. Horror filled her as it became hard to breathe. Ears popped and panic grew. Convinced of her impending doom, she regretted her decision and pounded against the case to reopen it. There was no way out and she could not get enough momentum to break the glass. She twisted and turned in hysteria, which caused her muscular frame to fight against the frame. As she kicked her foot in frustration, the back opened with another hiss. Relief washed the panic away.
She spilled out into a smaller, darker, and narrower corridor. Again, Dylan flicked on her phone’s flashlight. It illuminated very little, but it was enough to see the next ten to fifteen feet. Past that, it was pitch-black. There was no telling how far the tunnel went.
Along the same wall were the doors to each of the tombs. On each opening was the name matching the person on the other side. Dylan opened the next one. Inside was the deceased woman, mounted on display like a shadow box of decaying art.
At the end of the hallway, Dylan found an unassuming wooden door. With a careful hand, she twisted the knob. It was no surprise to find it locked. With her ear pressed against it, she heard the squeaking sound of a mattress on a metal bed frame reminiscent of the type of bed in the video feed.
She slammed her shoulder against it while she gripped the knob. Again and again until she broke through, splintering the door and its frame. At first, the permeating stench of sweat, feces, and sex hit her like a steam train. Her unwavering entry found the sight surreal. The dank quarters. A full toilet. Dirty tub water. And a filthy, bloodstained mattress holding an unconscious woman shackled by steel cuffs and rusted chains.
Once she saw Ari’s bound state, Dylan rushed to her side and dropped to her knees. “Ari. Baby. I’m so sorry. Please. Be alive.”
Repeating the mantra, she struggled with the chains and followed them to the chain drives underneath the bed, then back up to where she noticed electrical wiring attached to the rings on her newly pierced nipples. Dylan pulled her pocket knife and cut the wire from them. She pulled Ari up into her arms and cradled her until her eyes opened.
“Dylan?” Ari’s voice cracked.
She squeezed love back into Ari as she kept a tight embrace around her. “I’m here. I got you. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.”
Ari’s arms wrapped around Dylan while tears fell down her cheeks. While it wasn’t over, at least they were together, and she’d kill if need be to keep them safe. There was no time to waste on pleasantries at the moment, though Dylan comforted her with words as she examined the situation and her body. Ari was a mess, for sure. There was an infection on her left nipple from the piercing. She had fresh wounds, cuts, and bruises. The cuffs were steel, but the locks were almost non-existent, to be opened with a skeleton key or a pick.
“What have they done to you?” Dylan lamented as she used her pocketknife to manipulate the locks, jiggling just the right way for the pins to pop.
The first hand came loose, then the second. As soon as they were free, Ari cupped Dylan’s cheeks and pressed their lips together. As much as Dylan wanted to stay that way, there were more urgent matters.
“Let me get these off of you.” Dylan next worked the cuffs around Ari’s ankles, dropping to her knees for a better angle.
When Ari’s feet touched the ground, gravity pulled blood into her blue-tinged feet, causing them to swell like grapes. Her toes had been starved of blood for too long.
“Come on, we have to get out of here,” Dylan said.
Using her body as a crutch, she helped Ari walk toward the door, which seemed almost impossible given her limp. With time slipping away, Dylan couldn’t wait for the circulation to come.
She pulled off her shirt, leaving her in an undershirt, and had Ari cover herself with the button-down. “Here, let’s put this on you.”
“Dylan, I’m sorry. I did this.”
“No, you didn’t. This is on them, not you.”
“I’ve done too many bad things.”
“Stop. You were trying to stay alive.”
“But I—”
Dylan gripped Ari’s biceps to stop her. “No. This is not on you. We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
In one swift move, Dylan swept her off her feet and carried her out of the room and down the corridor to an empty casket, which served as the gateway to their freedom.
When Ari saw the glass case, she gasped. From inside their compartment, they saw the empty one with Lucy’s name. Dylan turned Ari’s head to face her, though Ari’s eyes had already seen the corpses of Annie Kelley and Sarah Milner. Those names were easy to read from there.
“Look at me. What you’re about to see is horrific. Don’t think about anything but getting out of here. We’re gonna get out of here. I got you.”
Bewildered, Ari nodded her understanding. Arms wrapped around each other, they squeezed into the case. Their bodies pressed together in the claustrophobic space. Dylan concentrated on the woman in her arms to steady herself. With a silent prayer that the case worked the same in reverse, Dylan pulled the back door shut. When the door didn’t open, Dylan’s breathing increased as panic started. Ari must have noticed because she started stroking her back. This simple gesture helped ease the growing anxiety. With her eyes pressed shut, Dylan focused on Ari’s touch. When she opened them, she saw a lever along the edge of the glass and pulled it. With a whoosh, the door swung open. Dylan thanked the heavens as she breathed in the musty air.
“Come on.” Again, Dylan scooped Ari into her arms while internally saying to herself, I’ll be back, Lucy.
