Chapter 42

I stood outside the museum, the imposing structure casting long shadows across the pavement. Callie’s incredulous voice cut through my thoughts. “What the fuck, why a museum?” She asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

I shrugged, the weight of our situation heavy on my shoulders. “It’s a place that would have interesting… artifacts. Creative ways to get rid of a body, if need be,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside me.

The image of Cora needing to be disposed of flashes through my mind, igniting a fierce anger within me. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, using the sharp sting to anchor myself to the present. I couldn’t afford to lose control, not when Cora’s life hung in the balance.

I turned to Callie, her face illuminated by the muted glow of the streetlights. “Stay in the car. Keep it running, just in case,” I instructed her, my tone leaving no room for argument.

But Callie, ever the spitfire, wasn’t one to back down easily. “No way, Haides. I’m not sitting here doing nothing while you—”

I cut her off with a glare, my patience wearing thin. “I can take a beating and deal one, Callie. You can’t. I can’t leave you here unprotected. If something happens to you on my watch, Cora wouldn’t forgive me. Ever.”

She fell silent, her eyes searching mine for a long moment before she finally relented, slumping back into her seat with a disgusted huff. “Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “But if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

I nodded, appreciating her tenacity even if it was misplaced. “Keep your phone handy,” I told her before turning on my heel and heading toward the museum’s entrance. The grandeur of the building was lost on me as I stepped inside, my senses heightened, my mind focused on one thing and one thing only—finding Cora.

The museum was eerily quiet, the exhibits standing as silent witnesses to my mission. I moved through the dimly lit halls, my footsteps echoed off the marble floors. I passed by ancient artifacts, their histories steeped in violence and bloodshed, a grim reminder of the corruption that resides within the heart of humanity.

I navigated the labyrinthine layout of the museum, my instincts guiding me toward the section that housed the more macabre displays. My mind raced, considering every possible scenario, every potential hiding place.

I descended into the bowels of the museum, the air growing colder and the light more sparse with each step I took. The smell of damp earth and stagnant water filled my nostrils, mingling with the unmistakable scent of decay. The museum’s underbelly was a stark contrast to the polished, sterile environment above; it was as if I’d stepped into another world, one that was ancient and filled with secrets.

The tunnels were a maze of concrete and steel, their walls slick with condensation. My footsteps echoed off the stone, the sound swallowed by the vastness of the space. I passed by old, rusted machinery, their purposes long forgotten, and piles of discarded exhibits, their glory days reduced to nothing more than shadows in the dark.

I moved with purpose, my eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of Cora. My body was taut with anticipation and dread, every nerve on edge and ready to react.

The maintenance area came into view, its neglect evident in the peeling paint and the thick layer of grime that coated everything. Tools were scattered haphazardly across workbenches, their surfaces rusted and worn. The air here was heavy with mold, the spores tickled my throat and made me cough. It was a forgotten place, one that was seldom seen by the public, a hidden corner where the museum’s dirty work was done.

I navigated through the clutter, my senses on high alert. The silence was almost deafening, the only sound being the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere in the gloom. It was a sound that was both soothing and unsettling, this same drip was in the live stream so I knew I was close.

I rounded a corner and froze. There, in the center of the room, was Cora. She was bound to a table, just as she was in the live stream. Her hair was matted with sweat, her skin pale in the dim light. Her eyes shut tightly, she remained still, her chest moving up and down in a calm, rhythmic pattern, exemplifying her resilience.

Rage bubbled up inside me, a fierce protective instinct that threatened to consume me. I clenched my fists, my nails dug into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to remain calm. I needed to be focused, to be methodical. Cora’s life depended on it.

I approached her slowly, my eyes never leaving her face. I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, my touch gentle despite the fury that raged within me. Her skin was cool to the touch, her body vulnerable and exposed.

“I’m here, Cora,” I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m going to get you out of this.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a mixture of relief and fear. She tried to speak, but the gag in her mouth prevented her from forming words. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, letting her know that she was not alone, that I was with her.

I turned my attention to her restraints, my fingers worked quickly to undo the knots. They’re tight, obviously the work of someone who knew what they were doing. But I was determined, my focus unwavering as I worked to free her.

Finally, the last knot came undone, and I gently helped Cora sit up. She winced, her body stiff from being immobilized for so long. I wrapped my arm around her, offering her support as she swung her legs over the side of the table.

As I helped Cora to her feet, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. I’d found her. She was safe. But the danger was far from over. We need to get out of here, to find a way back to the surface without being detected.

I glanced around the room, considering our options. There was only one way in and out, which meant we would have to move quickly and quietly if we wanted to avoid being caught. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.

“Stay close,” I told Cora, my voice steady despite the adrenaline that coursed through my veins. “We’re getting out of here. Together.”