so human. Goose bumps prickled across his skin, and he felt a shudder of horror go through his chest.
It was so dark he could barely see the outline of their guard when she stopped and turned to face them. She pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on, shined it in their faces, then to her left. It revealed a rickety iron gate, a chain and padlock wrapped around its bars to keep it closed. Without saying anything, the other guard left Alby and Minho and walked over, pulled out a key, then unlocked the padlock. The loud rattle of the chain being unwrapped echoed through the tunnel.
The man dropped the chain to the ground and opened the gate.
“In you go,” he said. “This is only meant to give you a scare—they won’t be able to actually harm you. I promise.”
“What’s in there?” Thomas asked.
“Cranks,” the female guard answered in a kind tone completely incongruous with the word itself. “Sometimes we need to remind you just how awful this disease is.”
“They won’t hurt you,” the man said again. His voice was solemn. “They’ll scare the pants off you, but they won’t hurt you.”
“Come on, guys,” Minho said, marching past the guard. “Let’s see what’s inside this hellhole.”
Thomas didn’t want to. Every nightmare he’d ever had was welling up inside him. Teresa’s bravery shook him out of it. She went through the gate, then Alby. Thomas followed.
224.10.20 | 2:28 a.m.
The darkness was the scariest part. Even though the guard continued to shine her light behind them, it seemed the beam was lost in a black fog. They walked, small step by small step, across crunchy gravel, down a narrow path lined on both sides with the iron railings of a fence. The bars, rising from the ground, were spaced about five inches apart; two long bars ran along the top and bottom. If there was anything on the other side of the fence, Thomas couldn’t make it out.
“This is spooky,” Minho spoke quietly, though it seemed loud in the still darkness. “Alby, hold my hand.”
“Dude, chill” was Alby’s response.
Their feet scraped against the gravel, causing an echo that almost sounded like whispers. Thomas felt claustrophobia edging in, the farther they went. It took everything he had not to turn around and run back. They kept on.
Soon they came to a brick wall, the fence on both sides leading right up to it. A dead end. This only fanned the flames of Thomas’s panic.
“What now?” he asked, hating how the whine in his voice gave away his fear. “Go back?”
“Definitely go back,” Teresa answered. “Maybe this was just a test to see if we’d do what we were—”
Minho shushed her, holding a finger to his lips. He looked down, listening. In the dim light coming from behind them, he looked like a phantom.
“Something’s coming,” he said. He pointed at the bars to the left of the brick wall. “From back there.”
Thomas turned to face where Minho indicated and stared into the darkness beyond the fence. He strained to hear. And there it was. Although the four of them weren’t moving, barely even breathing, the scrape of footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel. Thomas thought he heard it coming from behind as well, and he spun around to look. But now the sound was everywhere, seeming to come from all directions. Getting louder.
“Cranks,” Alby whispered. “They throw them in a creepy jail under their own building. Nice.”
Shapes were coming into view to match the scuffing of footfalls. Bodies.
“I think they must keep them somewhere else, actually,” Minho said. “Or they would’ve been pressed against the bars while we walked down here. I think they just released them like wild animals to pay us a visit.”
Moans and indecipherable murmurings broke out among the crowd of oncoming Cranks, increasing rapidly. Thomas and his friends had definitely been spotted.
And then, like a switch had been flipped, the room filled with thunderous sound, deafening. Screams and
It was so dark he could barely see the outline of their guard when she stopped and turned to face them. She pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on, shined it in their faces, then to her left. It revealed a rickety iron gate, a chain and padlock wrapped around its bars to keep it closed. Without saying anything, the other guard left Alby and Minho and walked over, pulled out a key, then unlocked the padlock. The loud rattle of the chain being unwrapped echoed through the tunnel.
The man dropped the chain to the ground and opened the gate.
“In you go,” he said. “This is only meant to give you a scare—they won’t be able to actually harm you. I promise.”
“What’s in there?” Thomas asked.
“Cranks,” the female guard answered in a kind tone completely incongruous with the word itself. “Sometimes we need to remind you just how awful this disease is.”
“They won’t hurt you,” the man said again. His voice was solemn. “They’ll scare the pants off you, but they won’t hurt you.”
“Come on, guys,” Minho said, marching past the guard. “Let’s see what’s inside this hellhole.”
Thomas didn’t want to. Every nightmare he’d ever had was welling up inside him. Teresa’s bravery shook him out of it. She went through the gate, then Alby. Thomas followed.
224.10.20 | 2:28 a.m.
The darkness was the scariest part. Even though the guard continued to shine her light behind them, it seemed the beam was lost in a black fog. They walked, small step by small step, across crunchy gravel, down a narrow path lined on both sides with the iron railings of a fence. The bars, rising from the ground, were spaced about five inches apart; two long bars ran along the top and bottom. If there was anything on the other side of the fence, Thomas couldn’t make it out.
“This is spooky,” Minho spoke quietly, though it seemed loud in the still darkness. “Alby, hold my hand.”
“Dude, chill” was Alby’s response.
Their feet scraped against the gravel, causing an echo that almost sounded like whispers. Thomas felt claustrophobia edging in, the farther they went. It took everything he had not to turn around and run back. They kept on.
Soon they came to a brick wall, the fence on both sides leading right up to it. A dead end. This only fanned the flames of Thomas’s panic.
“What now?” he asked, hating how the whine in his voice gave away his fear. “Go back?”
“Definitely go back,” Teresa answered. “Maybe this was just a test to see if we’d do what we were—”
Minho shushed her, holding a finger to his lips. He looked down, listening. In the dim light coming from behind them, he looked like a phantom.
“Something’s coming,” he said. He pointed at the bars to the left of the brick wall. “From back there.”
Thomas turned to face where Minho indicated and stared into the darkness beyond the fence. He strained to hear. And there it was. Although the four of them weren’t moving, barely even breathing, the scrape of footsteps echoed throughout the tunnel. Thomas thought he heard it coming from behind as well, and he spun around to look. But now the sound was everywhere, seeming to come from all directions. Getting louder.
“Cranks,” Alby whispered. “They throw them in a creepy jail under their own building. Nice.”
Shapes were coming into view to match the scuffing of footfalls. Bodies.
“I think they must keep them somewhere else, actually,” Minho said. “Or they would’ve been pressed against the bars while we walked down here. I think they just released them like wild animals to pay us a visit.”
Moans and indecipherable murmurings broke out among the crowd of oncoming Cranks, increasing rapidly. Thomas and his friends had definitely been spotted.
And then, like a switch had been flipped, the room filled with thunderous sound, deafening. Screams and
Similar Books
