Abigail, on the other hand, heard the low groan and a thud of something falling. Her movement paused instantaneously. She looked behind her, a dreadful feeling creeping into her heart. When she saw Christopher lying on the floor, she let out a scream. Her voice, tinged with terror, reverberated off the cold concrete walls, creating an unsettling echo that seemed to amplify her fear.
"Christopher…" She hurried over to him, the key slipping out of her grip.
Christopher lay motionless on the ground, his face marred by blood—a haunting image that filled Abigail with paralyzing dread. The metallic scent of blood hit her nostrils, creating an eerie atmosphere that intensified her panic.
"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, trying to reach him. The sight of the crimson liquid staining his face terrified her.
