Chapter 3 - The Secret Accomplice
The towering silhouette stepped fully into the harsh fluorescent light of the embalming room.
It was Mister Vance, the wealthy and highly respected director of the town's oldest funeral home.
He completely ignored Ethan cowering in the corner and walked straight toward Richard.
"The guests have all fled the building," Mister Vance said, wiping dark crimson blood from his iron pipe.
"I locked the main gates and jammed the cell phone towers with the signal blocker."
Ethan felt a crushing wave of despair wash over him as he realized the entire funeral home was in on this sick plot.
Richard holstered his weapon and casually leaned against the stainless steel table.
"Did anyone manage to call the police before you blocked the signal?" Richard asked.
Mister Vance shook his head, a sinister smile creeping across his wrinkled face.
"Not a single soul," the old man replied confidently.
"But we have a very small window to finish this before the authorities notice a panic on the highway."
Ethan slowly slid his hand along the cold tile floor, inching his fingers closer to the metal cart holding the sharp scalpels.
He desperately needed to arm himself before these two monsters decided it was his turn to disappear.
"Go bring the casket back here so we can load the woman into the incinerator," Richard ordered.
Mister Vance nodded and turned back toward the heavy steel door.
This was Ethan's only chance to act.
He lunged forward and grabbed the sharpest scalpel from the surgical tray.
Before Richard could turn around, Ethan wildly slashed the blade across the back of the man's knee.
Richard screamed in agony and collapsed onto the hard tile floor, clutching his bleeding leg.
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Ethan scrambled toward the open doorway, his heart pounding like a frantic drum.
But as he crossed the threshold, a massive, heavy hand grabbed him violently by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
