[ Highest Rank #101 in Mystery/Thriller ]
Time has passed. Things have changed. Isabeth, Benny, and Faith aren't quite the same. They have blood on their hands, a code they honor, and secrets they keep locked away. The Psychopath Maker knows this an...
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"Who's there?" She spoke. "Santiago is that you?"
Alex ignored the ringing, focused on the voice. "Isa?" He groped at the darkness. "Isa, is that you?"
"Alex!" She whimpered. "Alex!"
"I'm here." He followed her voice like the light cutting through the fog. His hand clung to her face absorbing the salty, fear that ran from her eyes. "You're safe."
"What was that noise?" She tried to pull her arms loose but her skin cried, hollered for her to stop.
Alex undid the basic knot that tied the rope around Isabeth's wrist. "Clayton found The Executioner."
"Is he dead?" She flexed the wrist of her newly free arm.
Alex struggled with the knot trapping Isabeth's other hand to the chair. "It sounded like a shotgun."
He yanked the rope down but it didn't budge. "I'm going to say, yes."
More tears poured down her face, shocking her. A faint ache pierced her heart as the rope fell off her arm.
Alex cupped her hand firmly in his. "Don't let my hand go."
She nodded but he couldn't see, although he felt her hand squeeze tightly on his.
Alex led her out the room and into the pitch-black hallway. Death dug its claws back in Alex's spine; he winced with every step he took. Another boom erupted, sparks shimmered across their face. Then, a thud hit the floor.
"One down." Fulton cocked the shotgun "Where's the other one.
"Don't know." Alex looked behind them "Don't care." He started walking.
Isabeth wavered with her shaky hand slipping out of Alex's grasp.
"Let me go!" She scratched and clawed at flesh and air. A tight hand wrapped around her neck like a python, squeezing tighter and tighter with each breath she took. Her head banged against the wall and her feet floated off the floor as her nails ripped fire to his skin.
"Put her down!" Alex drew back his arm and slammed the tire iron into Santiago's skull. Isabeth smashed to the floor clasping her neck wheezing for air.
Alex disappeared in rage letting it take over as his arm repeatedly flew up. Pound after pound, crunch after crunch; blood painted his face and Fulton stood watching. He watched the monster take hold of Alex.
"Alex!" Isabeth pulled his shirt but he kept plugging the tire iron into Santiago's caved-in cranium until the man became unrecognizable. She grabbed his arm in mid-air and he gawked at her with empty eyes. "He's dead." She softly told.
The tire iron clack to the floor and Alex shrunk against the wall. "I'm a killer! I'm a killer. I'm a killer." He moaned in his hands.
Isabeth knelt in front of him and pried his bloodstained hands away from his face. The void in his eyes was gone and she knew he was back. "You're not a killer. You are a fighter. We are survivors." She stood and held out her hand.
