The voice outside the hidden alcove sent a chill down my spine, and my mind raced with a thousand thoughts at once. Who was this person? How had they found us? And what did they want with me?
William's grip on my hand was firm, his eyes communicating what his voice couldn't: stay calm, stay hidden. But I could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled as if ready to spring into action at any moment.
"I know you're here, Alice," the voice called again, closer this time. The sound of footsteps echoed through the room, deliberate and slow, as if the person was savoring the hunt.
My breath caught in my throat as the footsteps paused, and the person seemed to listen to the silence, their presence an oppressive weight in the room. The walls of the alcove felt like they were closing in on me, and I had to fight the urge to bolt, to flee from the danger lurking just outside.
William squeezed my hand, a silent reminder to stay still. But I could see the calculation in his eyes, the wheels turning in his mind as he considered our options.
Suddenly, the footsteps resumed, moving away from our hiding place. Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived. The person was still in the room, still searching, and it was only a matter of time before they found us.
William leaned close to my ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I say go, we run. Don't stop for anything."
I nodded, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure it would give us away. My entire body was tense, ready to bolt at the slightest signal.
The footsteps grew fainter, as if the person was moving toward the far end of the room. William took the opportunity, gently pushing open the hidden panel and leading me out as quietly as possible. We moved in a crouch, staying close to the shadows as we made our way toward the door.
But just as we were about to slip out, a voice stopped us in our tracks.
"Going somewhere?"
I froze, my blood turning to ice. The person had been waiting, anticipating our move. And now, they had us trapped.
William was quicker to react. He lunged forward, pulling me with him as he made a dash for the door. But the person was faster, blocking our path with a swift, almost inhuman speed.
I caught a glimpse of them—a tall figure, dressed in dark clothes, their face obscured by a mask. Their eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto mine with a predatory intensity.
"Get out of here, Alice," William shouted, pushing me toward the door as he squared off against the intruder.
But I couldn't move, couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of me. William was strong, but the intruder was stronger, their movements fluid and deadly as they engaged in a fierce struggle.
"Go!" William's voice was strained, desperation lacing his tone as he fought to hold the intruder back.
Finally, my legs obeyed, and I bolted for the door, my heart hammering in my chest. I sprinted down the hallway, the sound of their struggle echoing behind me, but I didn't dare look back.
I ran blindly through the mansion, my only thought to get out, to escape the danger that was closing in on me. The hallways seemed to twist and turn, the darkness swallowing me whole as I tried to find an exit.
Finally, I saw a glimmer of light at the end of a long corridor—the front door. I pushed myself harder, my lungs burning as I closed the distance.
But just as I reached for the door, something slammed into me from the side, knocking the breath out of my lungs and sending me crashing to the floor. Pain shot through my body, but I forced myself to get up, to keep moving.
I scrambled to my feet, my vision blurred by fear and adrenaline. The figure loomed over me, their presence suffocating as they reached for me with cold, unfeeling hands.
"Stay away!" I screamed, kicking out at them, but they were relentless, their grip like iron as they dragged me back toward the shadows.
My mind raced, searching for a way out, for something—anything—that could save me. And then, in a flash of desperation, I remembered the journal in my bag, the one I had taken from the safe. My father's final words echoed in my mind: "Trust no one—not even those closest to you."
With a surge of adrenaline, I yanked the journal out of my bag and swung it at the intruder's head. The impact was enough to catch them off guard, and their grip loosened just enough for me to break free.
I didn't waste a second. I bolted for the door, throwing it open and bursting into the night. The cold air hit me like a slap, but I didn't stop running. I sprinted down the driveway, my heart pounding in my ears, my only thought to get as far away as possible.
As I ran, the sound of footsteps behind me spurred me on, the fear driving me forward even as my body screamed in protest. But no matter how fast I ran, the footsteps were always there, always just behind me, a constant reminder that I was being hunted.
Finally, I reached the edge of the estate, the gates looming ahead like a beacon of safety. I pushed myself harder, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I reached for the gate.
But just as my fingers brushed the cold metal, a hand clamped down on my shoulder, yanking me back into the darkness.
I screamed, the sound piercing the night, but it was cut short as a cloth was pressed over my mouth and nose, the sickly sweet scent of chloroform filling my lungs.
My vision blurred, the world spinning around me as the darkness closed in. The last thing I saw before everything went black was the cold, calculating eyes of my captor, staring down at me with a chilling finality.
And then, there was nothing.