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But it wasn’t a blowhole exploding this time.
It was me.
My soul.
My immortal spirit shot out of me as I dug my thumbs deeper into his fleshy neck and squeezed.
I squeezed until he switched from sleeping to dead.
I squeezed until there was no chance he’d ever wake again.
I squeezed until the beast inside me stopped snarling and accepted that it’d won.
Only then did I wipe my hands on his shirt, steal his gun, and stride barefoot into cave-wrapped darkness.
Chapter Three
………………………….
Ily
COULD A PERSON KEEP LIVING IF their heart stopped beating?
Because mine did.
The moment we entered the Temple of Facets...
It stopped.
Just like that.
Salty tang and chilly rock entombed us as we traded the sea glass-pebbled beach and stumbled into the cave system. No one spoke as Peter collided from stone wall to stone wall, guiding us deeper into the island’s belly.
The first circular space looked like any other cave. Scraggy and sharp, wild and wet where no humans were welcome. Enough light spilled from outside to etch every step with shadow. The second was larger, with massive stalactites descending from the roof—some so long we had to weave around them as we followed our feverish tour guide. We travelled through a narrow rock corridor, light fading with every metre, forcing us to rely more on touch than sight.
But the moment we exited that narrow alleyway—decorated by nature and its mercurial tides full of seaweed and broken bits of coral—and spilled into a cavernous catacomb…my heart ceased beating.
Flickering sconces in the shape of burning torches granted us soft, dreamy light, trying to hide the nightmare before us.
My knees buckled.
My stomach threatened to revolt.
All around me, jewels reacted in their own way.
All skin colours turned shock-white.
All eye colours went horror-wide.
No one could wrench their gaze off the table in the centre.
No, not a table.
An altar.
Carved from the very cave itself with a thick pedestal and chunky stone platform.
A human-sized platform.
