Chapter 8 - The Hidden Tunnel
The mechanical hum of the steel shutters sealing us inside felt like the lid of a coffin closing shut.
The library was plunged into near darkness, illuminated only by the faint red glow of the emergency lights.
Grace collapsed against a heavy mahogany bookshelf, gasping painfully for every single breath.
Her skin was completely drenched in cold sweat, and the poison was clearly ravaging her failing organs.
Annie began to cry softly, terrified by the sound of heavy boots running down the hallway outside.
Arthur’s voice suddenly echoed through the intercom system hidden in the library ceiling.
He mocked our pathetic attempt to escape, reminding us that his mansion was an impenetrable fortress.
I knew he was right about the doors, but I also remembered a story Grace had told me long ago.
When our parents worked here, they mentioned that these historic mansions always had hidden servant passages built during the Prohibition era.
I frantically began pulling massive, leather-bound books off the shelves, searching for a hidden lever or switch.
Grace weakly pointed a trembling finger toward a decorative bronze bust of a Roman emperor resting on a pedestal.
I rushed over and twisted the heavy bronze statue with all my might until I heard a loud, metallic click inside the wall.
The entire bookshelf suddenly groaned and swung outward, revealing a dark, damp stone corridor hidden behind the walls.
I grabbed Annie’s hand and practically carried Grace into the pitch-black secret passage.
I pulled the bookshelf shut behind us just as the library doors were blasted open by shotgun fire.
We stumbled blindly down the steep stone steps, feeling the cold, damp earth surrounding us.
The air smelled like mold and stagnant water, making it even harder for Grace to breathe.
We walked for what felt like miles, navigating the winding underground maze that ran entirely beneath the estate.
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The tunnel finally ended abruptly at a massive, rusted steel door secured by heavy iron chains.
On the other side of the door, we could hear the terrifying, unmistakable sound of shotguns being cocked and loaded.
