Chapter 3 - The Cold Iron
The blinding beam of the flashlight swept across the stone wall just inches from Sarah's face.
She held her breath and squeezed herself tighter behind a stack of wooden crates.
"Is someone down there?" David called out.
His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked closer to the crates.
Sarah closed her eyes and prepared to fight him.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the opposite end of the basement.
David cursed under his breath, spun around, and sprinted toward the noise.
Sarah exhaled a shaky breath and slipped out from her hiding spot.
She moved quickly in the opposite direction, venturing deeper into the subterranean maze.
The church foundations were much larger than she had ever imagined.
She turned a corner and found herself facing a massive, rusted iron door.
It looked entirely out of place in a normal church basement.
There was a heavy modern padlock securing the latch.
Sarah pulled at the lock, but it was solid steel and completely unyielding.
She desperately needed a key.
A soft tug on her ruined wedding dress made her jump out of her skin.
She looked down and saw little Lily standing there in the gloom.
The seven-year-old girl held out a small silver key on a faded string.
"How did you get down here?" Sarah asked in a shocked whisper.
Lily didn't answer her question.
Instead, the little girl pushed the key into Sarah’s trembling palm.
"You have to be very quiet," Lily warned.
Sarah quickly shoved the key into the padlock and turned it.
The lock clicked open with a heavy, satisfying thud.
She pulled the iron door open and stepped into the dimly lit room.
The room looked exactly like a makeshift hospital ward.
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There was an empty bed in the center, and the sheets were still warm to the touch.
Before Sarah could process what she was seeing, a large hand clamped down hard over her mouth.
