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Bri leaped to her feet and stared at him like he’d gone crazy. "Liam, are you fucking serious? You’ve seen what happens here. You’ve done the things that happen here. Even if we’re punished, that might end up being worse than death."
Liam opened his mouth to retort but closed it again when he could apparently find no argument. She was right. The things I’d done as ‘simple punishment’ would make the average person vomit. We were all in deep trouble. What would Sam have us do? Would we have our hands cut off? Eyes gouged out? Have our genitals sliced up? God only knew what depravity he’d put us through.
Bong. I flinched at the sound. The chime had a more ominous ring to it than it had an hour ago.
"All housemates, return to dinner," Sam said.
Drake caught my eye and frowned. Good, he was as confused as I was.
"Do not make me repeat myself. It will take time to formulate an appropriate response to this rebellion. Until then. Please, enjoy your meal."
Elise was crying, but Bri grabbed her arm and dragged her through the gaping jagged hole in the faux wall. Payton and Liam followed, both men looking dejected and hopeless. A mix of the same emotions fought within me. Escape had been close, right at our fingertips. To have that kind of happiness, excitement, and relief ripped away was like losing a loved one. The agony of it was almost too much to bear.
Drake stood, brushed himself off, and put his hand out to me. "Come on. I guess we’re going back to eating."
With gritted teeth, I put my hand in his and let him help me up. Following him out of the hidden foyer into the dining room, I gave one last look over my shoulder at the locked door. The thing that should have been our salvation was now nothing more than another latch on the cage.
Liam scooped a spoonful of cold food and ate mechanically. As he chewed, he stared into space, a vacant look of terror in his eyes. The others followed his example and placed food on their plates. The last thing I wanted was to eat anything. My stomach twisted and flipped, nausea clawed at the back of my throat, but I managed to do as I was told.
The mashed potatoes were like dry paste on my tongue; the meatloaf had a crumbly texture that made me want to spit it out. The only thing that stopped me was my memory of being locked in my room and starving, wondering when I’d get out or have my next meal. Like a soulless robot, I ate more, shoveling the cold congealed sustenance into my mouth.
Our group ate as pervasive dread hung over all of us. Even Drake, usually calm and assured, kept glancing around furtively. It was like he was waiting for a guy to leap out with a chainsaw to hack us to pieces. Nothing came, though. Sam said nothing to us. Instead, he left us to contemplate his silence.
What did it mean? My brain played a dozen different scenarios. Was he terrified that we’d escaped? Pissed? Intrigued? Shocked? What was it? I hated the sound of his voice, but at that moment I’d have given anything to hear him say something. Call us all assholes or chastise us, Christ, he could even go on like nothing had ever happened. Anything, anything, was better than the silence.
When he finally did speak, it scared us so badly everyone jumped in surprise.
"Dinner is over. Housemates can return to your rooms. Now."
The last word had a coldness to it I’d never heard Sam use before. It sent a chill down my spine, but by god I obeyed. I pushed my chair away from the table and stood along with the others. Bri grabbed Elise’s hand, and the two walked out with Liam. Payton, even with his dark skin, looked pale and ready to faint. Thankfully, he managed to shuffle out of the room and down the hall.
Drake led me out, and on the walk to our rooms, the feeling of dread increased. The halls appeared darker, the carpet more abrasive, the lights harsher. It was like everything had changed in the few minutes we’d been outside. Drake stopped at my door, grabbing my hand before I could vanish inside.
"Sleep. Get whatever rest you can."
"I’m pretty tired, actually," I said.
"Not because you’re tired," he said. "It’s because we don’t know when we’ll get a good night’s sleep again."
I tended to forget that Drake had been here longer than any of us. Part of my mind thought of us as a team, all placed here at the same moment. He’d seen more than his fair share of horror. He’d watched all his past housemates vanish in one bloody way or another.
"How bad is it going to be?" My voice wavered as I asked the question.
The muscles in Drake’s jaw rippled as he gritted his teeth. When he managed to meet my gaze, there was a deeper fear in his eyes than I’d ever seen before.
"Can’t say for sure. Nothing like this has ever happened before. All I know is it isn’t going to be good."
Chapter 2
DAHLIA
When my eyes opened the next morning, there was a moment of peace. For a few seconds, I recalled the breakout. Our group had rushed out of the house into freedom. No more blood, no more torture, no more of Sam in our ears twenty-four-seven. Then reality came crashing down around me, and I sat up, fresh terror enveloping me.
The room looked exactly as it always did. Nothing had changed during the night. Hopefully it was a good sign and my body was rested too. Somewhat surprising, since I’d had no desire to sleep when I got into bed. Once Drake had hurried down the hall to his room, I’d crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling. Part of me thought Sam might sneak in during the night and chop me to pieces with an ax. The other part worried that he’d abandon us and run. Starving to death in my room sounded like one of the worst possible ways to die. I’d assumed I’d lie there, awake all night, until the morning when his plan was revealed.
Bong. "Breakfast. Go. Now."
I’d never heard Sam speak in such a clipped and short way before. There was no anger in his voice, but there was a strangeness to it now. Like a pissed off parent telling their ill-behaved kids to do something.
