Chapter 5 - The Trail of Blood
I lunged wildly at the cruel woman, my fingers curling tightly into fists aimed directly at her throat.
Her massive bodyguard intercepted me effortlessly, throwing my recovering body hard against the icy pavement.
Ethan instantly tackled the massive bodyguard, throwing a desperate, wild punch that connected with a sickening crunch.
Victoria shrieked in genuine terror and scrambled awkwardly back toward her waiting armored limousine.
She yelled frantically out the window that Julian was last seen lurking near the old family estate before the car sped away into the night.
Ethan helped me painfully off the freezing ground, his knuckles bleeding and his eyes filled with pure, unadulterated rage.
We jumped quickly back into our stolen car and tore dangerously through the city streets toward the infamous Vance mansion.
The massive wrought-iron gates were wide open, swaying creepily and squeaking loudly in the night wind.
We abandoned the car directly on the pristine front lawn and kicked open the massive front door of the dark, silent house.
The grand foyer looked like an active war zone, with priceless shattered antiques scattered dangerously across the marble floor.
We moved incredibly quietly through the dark, cavernous hallways, closely following a fresh trail of muddy footprints.
The messy footprints led directly toward the heavy, reinforced oak doors of the basement wine cellar.
Ethan grabbed a heavy brass candlestick from a broken side table to use as a makeshift weapon.
He slowly pushed the heavy oak doors open, wincing as the rusted hinges squealed loudly in the silence.
The thick smell of damp earth and something distinctly metallic hit my nose immediately.
I frantically fumbled for the light switch on the stone wall and quickly flipped it on.
The underground room was entirely empty, except for a solitary wooden table sitting directly in the center.
Sitting right in the middle of the table was the tiny pink cotton hat my daughter was wearing when she was born.
The soft fabric was heavily stained with fresh, dark crimson blood.
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Next to the ruined hat was a terrifying, handwritten note scrawled carelessly on a piece of torn cardboard.
The messy, chaotic handwriting simply read that our time had officially run out.
