Chapter 7 - The Final Countdown
The hissing sound of natural gas escaping into the enclosed basement grew louder by the second.
Ethan coughed heavily, feeling the toxic fumes burning the back of his throat.
Claire frantically rattled the thick iron bars of the storage cage, but the heavy metal did not budge an inch.
Mister Vance stood safely on the other side of the room, casually tossing a silver lighter in his hand.
"In about three minutes, this entire basement will be highly combustible," the old director explained calmly.
"When the police finally find your charred remains, they will blame it on a tragic gas leak during the funeral."
Richard limped down the wooden stairs, his face pale and contorted in obvious physical pain.
"Burn them now and let us get out of here," Richard demanded, clutching his heavily bandaged leg.
Ethan looked frantically around the small steel cage, desperately searching for anything that could save them.
His eyes darted to the ceiling of the enclosure, noticing a massive, heavy iron chandelier hanging precariously above their heads.
The thick chain holding the heavy fixture was directly attached to the rusted locking mechanism of the cage door.
"Mom, lift me up," Ethan ordered, climbing quickly onto the sturdy side of a wooden crate.
Claire did not hesitate, grabbing him by the waist and hoisting him higher toward the ceiling.
Ethan gripped the bloody scalpel tightly and began sawing desperately at the frayed electrical wires wrapping the heavy chain.
Mister Vance noticed what the boy was doing and immediately flicked the silver lighter open.
A bright orange flame illuminated the old man's sinister, smiling face.
"Time is completely up," Mister Vance announced casually.
He drew his arm back to toss the flaming lighter directly into the gas-filled room.
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Ethan used every ounce of his remaining strength and violently slashed the last restraining wire.
The massive iron chandelier detached from the ceiling and swung rapidly downward like a deadly pendulum.
