Chapter 12 · Untitled Chapter

"Mark, move!" Amy yanked his jacket as Daniel's light-blade sputtered beside him.

Mark turned. The hallway behind them had twisted into something that couldn't fit inside the basement. Carpet crawled up the walls. Faces pressed beneath the peeling paint, mouths opening without sound.

Then the thing laughed in Mark's own voice.

"We need to go," Mark said.

"You think?" Lucas backed toward the door. "It's getting closer."

"What is?" Daniel snapped.

Mark felt the answer before he saw it. Pressure crushed his chest. The dead tissue across his burned hand flared hot, every scar screaming at once.

The hallway thickened around them. His boots sank into the carpet.

"Run!" Amy shouted.

They ran.

The corridor stretched with every step. Mark's shoulder clipped a wall, and something under the paint grabbed at his sleeve. He tore free. A strip of skin peeled away from the wall with his jacket, writhing like a pale finger.

"What the hell is this place?" Daniel yelled.

"It's not a place," Lucas said. "It's a trap."

Daniel swung the light-blade. The pale edge cut through the air, and the hallway snapped solid for half a second. Fluorescent lights. Gray carpet.