Chapter 8 - The Shadow of the Past
The fire roared to life with terrifying speed, scaling the dry, rotting walls of the old hunting cabin.
Thick, black smoke immediately filled the small room, burning Eleanor’s lungs and blinding her eyes.
“We have to get out of here right now!” Eleanor screamed over the deafening crackle of the flames.
She rushed to the heavy wooden door, throwing her entire body weight against it, but the thick metal chains outside held firm.
Sarah tried to stand up to help, but she collapsed in agony, clutching the bloody wound on her side.
“Leave me, Eleanor, just take Leo and break through the back window,” Sarah coughed, smoke pouring from her lips.
“I am not leaving you again, not ever!” Eleanor roared with a fierce, primal determination.
The ceiling above them groaned dangerously as the wooden support beams began to turn to ash.
Leo grabbed a heavy, antique iron fireplace poker that had been resting near the hearth.
He handed it to his mother, his green eyes filled with an absolute, unwavering trust.
Eleanor took the heavy iron tool, feeling the surging power in her newly recovered legs.
She ran toward the only window in the cabin, which was reinforced with thick iron security bars.
She swung the poker like a baseball bat, smashing the glass and striking the rusted iron bars with everything she had.
Sparks flew as metal violently met metal, the rusted bolts groaning under her frantic assault.
The fire was now crawling across the ceiling, dropping burning embers onto the wooden floorboards around them.
With one final, desperate scream, Eleanor struck the bars again, and the ancient iron frame finally gave way.
The security bars ripped out of the rotting wood and crashed into the mud outside.
Eleanor grabbed Sarah by the waist, practically carrying her sister, and shoved her through the broken window frame.
She grabbed Leo and tossed him out onto the soft mud right behind his aunt.
Just as Eleanor pulled herself onto the window sill, the entire roof of the cabin violently caved in.
A massive wave of heat blasted her out the window, sending her crashing into the wet grass.
They scrambled away from the intense heat, watching the cabin collapse completely in a brilliant shower of orange sparks.
They were alive, breathing in the cold, wet air of the forest, completely covered in mud and ash.
In the distance, the faint sound of police sirens began to wail through the trees.
Dr. Vance must have sent an emergency fail-safe email to the authorities before coming to save them.
The blue and red lights cut through the dark woods as multiple police cruisers smashed through the estate gates.
Eleanor stood up, holding her sister and her son, ready to finally watch Richard be arrested and ruined forever.
They walked toward the flashing lights, demanding the officers find the man who had done this.
An officer led Eleanor to the back of the property, shining his heavy flashlight into the mud.
But there was no grand arrest to witness, and no final confrontation with her evil husband.
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Richard was lying face down in the dirt, completely dead, with a single, clean bullet hole in the back of his head.
Clutched tightly in his lifeless hand was a typed confession note that made absolutely no sense at all.
