Chapter 8 - The Asylum
We ran through the rotting front doors of the asylum, our boots crunching loudly over broken glass and decayed wood.
The air inside was thick with dust and the sickening smell of old mildew.
Patricia’s screams echoed down the long, shadowed corridors, making it impossible to pinpoint her exact location.
Carter moved with tactical precision, sweeping every single room with his weapon raised and ready.
I followed closely behind him, clutching a heavy iron pipe I had picked up from the debris.
We climbed the crumbling concrete stairs to the third floor, the source of the frantic screaming.
At the end of the hallway, a heavy steel door to a solitary confinement cell was wide open.
We rushed into the small, windowless room, expecting an ambush.
Instead, we found Patricia chained to an old iron radiator, her expensive clothes torn and covered in filth.
She was weeping hysterically, her arrogant, cruel demeanor completely shattered into pieces.
I stood over her, feeling absolutely no pity for the monster who had tried to steal my daughter.
I demanded to know where Lily was, raising the iron pipe threateningly.
Patricia flinched, looking up at me with wild, terrified eyes.
She sobbed that Daniel had completely lost his mind and betrayed the entire syndicate.
She claimed Daniel was not planning to turn Lily over to the cartel bosses to access the trust fund.
He had become obsessed with the child and decided to keep her for himself, murdering anyone who got in his way.
Patricia whimpered that Daniel had locked her in this cell to starve to death because she questioned his authority.
Carter grabbed Patricia by the collar, pulling her face close to his.
He demanded to know exactly what part of the asylum Daniel was using as his base of operations.
Patricia pointed a trembling finger toward the ceiling.
She said Daniel had fortified the old electroshock therapy wing on the fifth floor.
She warned us that he had rigged the entire staircase with tripwires and military-grade explosives.
Carter dropped her back onto the floor in disgust, leaving her chained to the rusted pipes.
We approached the stairwell leading to the upper floors, moving with agonizing caution.
I could hear the faint, distinct sound of a child crying softly from somewhere far above us.
It was Lily.
May you like
Before I could run up the stairs, Carter grabbed my shoulder and pointed a flashlight at the first step.
A nearly invisible, thin wire was stretched tightly across the concrete, wired directly to a block of C4 explosive.
