AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The white tile was stained blood. Floors, walls. Toilet, sink cabinet, the mirror.
Elio plucked a piece of toilet paper off of the roll, using it to draw back the shower curtain.
The entire tub was caked in blood. So red it was almost black. More of it than seemed possible.
And there, sitting right in the center of it, was evidence of why there were no bodies around.
“Is that…” I whispered.
Elio’s gaze cut to mine, something chilling in his dark eyes.
“It’s a bone saw.”
Unwanted images flooded my mind, making my stomach twist and flip over, making me suddenly glad that we hadn’t had time to eat anything before catching the ferry. I was pretty sure if I had, it would all be making its way back up my throat as I stood there, imagining these men and their horrible deaths, then someone bringing them upstairs and dismembering them. Not with a power tool. With a fucking surgical, manual saw.
The amount of work that would take.
The coldness in someone’s soul that would require.
I was suddenly thankful for Anthony’s voice of reason, his prudence, in holding me back from rushing across that street and trying to take on a small group of these men.
Even just one of them was capable of this kind of savagery.
I didn’t want to imagine what they would have done to me before they finally killed and dismembered me as well.
“We have to check the basement,” Elio said as we all carefully stepped back out of the bathroom, then down the hall.
My stomach was twisting into painful knots as we moved down the steps, knowing how exposed we would all be if someone happened to come in right then, how there was nowhere to hide.
Sure, we were armed.
And I was a hell of a shot.
But shit happened in life-or-death situations.
We made it back to the main floor without incident, though, and we all moved in three positions around the basement door as Elio used the same toilet paper to open it as he had the shower curtain, then moved down sideways. I was right at his heels, aiming down. Anthony was behind me, aiming up.
These steps were blessedly silent, but shallow, and part of me was terrified that Anthony might trip then take all of us down with him.
I reached up with my free hand, pressing it into him as we kept moving down.
The basement was bisected by a wall down the center of it, a single brown door in the center, an old poster of various bodyweight exercises tacked to the back of it.
This side of the basement was unassuming. A washer and dryer were against the wall, several economy tubs of detergent in a garbage can next to them, and an old recliner set near the machines with a paperback book opened on the arm like a bookmark to keep the reader’s place.
I felt a sudden gut-punch of sadness at the idea of the person never being able to finish that story.
Anthony nudged me, making me turn to see him nod toward the ground where several stains were dripped across the floor. In the low light, they could have been paint or oil or various household fluids. But everything about this crime scene of a house suggested we not believe that, so I nudged Elio and pointed toward where they disappeared into the other side of the basement.
We inched closer, careful to avoid the spots. Elio produced the toilet paper again, reaching up over his head to undo a simple hook & eye lock, then reaching for the knob as he gave us a nod.
My breath stuttered in my chest as he threw open the door and charged inside.
I was one step behind, with Anthony right behind me.
And we charged into another dark, windowless room that reeked of blood, piss, body odor, and that acidic undercurrent of fear.
Behind me Anthony used his sleeved arm to flick a switch, and stark fluorescent light filtered through the space, lighting up even the darkest corners.
