Cameron Keen never expected her life to become entangled in the horrors of Blackwood Mountain.
Drawn back by a past she can't escape, she soon finds herself face to face with her old friend Josh Washington, a man haunted not just by grief, but...
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THE MANIAC'S FINALE.
"You weren't supposed to be there." the maniac said flatly. He took another step toward her, the gap between them now almost nonexistent.
A brief surge of satisfaction welled up inside her. He hadn't expected her to fight for Josh, hadn't expected her to go after him to try and console him when he when he was upset. Good. He had miscalculated.
"What will you do with them?" She asked, nodding toward Chris and Ashley, their unconscious forms lying crumpled on the floor.
She wasn't sure why she asked—part of her didn't want to know the answer. But stalling him, keeping him talking, was all she had left.
The maniac turned his head slightly, surveying them, before slowly turning his attention back to her. His gaze was unwavering, as though calculating what he should reveal.
"It'll all be over soon." He said, his voice dripping with a sinister calm that made Cameron's skin crawl. "The big finale is coming up."
Her blood ran cold at his words. The finale. What did that mean? Was this some kind of sick game, one with an end she hadn't yet seen coming?
"Well." She muttered, sniffing and wiping her nose with her sleeve, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Let's get this over with. Gas me, or whatever. Just don't punch me."
If she was going out, she was going out on her terms.
For a moment, there was silence between them, the air thick with tension. Then, to her surprise, the maniac let out a low laugh. But before she could react, the gas filled her lungs, and the world around her went black.
_________________
When Cameron came to, the pain was overwhelming. Her head throbbed, and her limbs felt heavy as if weighed down by lead. She blinked, trying to adjust to her surroundings, but her vision was blurred, her senses dulled.
Where the hell was she?
She tried to move, but her body was restrained, her torso strapped tightly to a wooden support beam. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and the more she struggled, the more she realized the futility of it. The bindings were too tight.
In front of her, she saw Chris and Ashley, both seated in chairs across from one another, their left hands bound just as tightly.
Between them was a table, and on top of it—a gun. Her stomach dropped as she noticed the blinking red light of a camera pointed directly at them, recording everything.
