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She ran and followed them, having no option but to treat them as real. Suddenly, she was standing before a large door, and a strange fear washed over her.
It was the basement door again. The footsteps had led her there. Valerie started to believe they were echoes in her mind from the previous night.
Maybe there was damage when he hit me over the head, she thought.And the footsteps are just memories.
She stared at the door like it was a barrier between her and the beyond. She thought she heard the footsteps again, descending the stairs on the other side. But something inside of her resisted going back down there. She was terrified that her hallucinations were now in control.
Another noise came from behind the door, like someone moving something metal. She had to treat it as real, the killer had just attacked Doctor Whitmore, and if Valerie didn’t keep going, the killer would do worse next time.
Valerie took a deep breath and opened the door. The stairs were dark.
She moved forward, shining her flashlight down into the abyss.
On the dusty floor at the foot of the stairs, Valerie saw a set of footprints leading down into the darkness.
With a pounding heart, she followed them down, knowing that if she stopped now, she could lose the killer for a second time. She had to keep going—no matter what was waiting for her at the bottom.
Valerie’s hand trembled as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Not because of the darkness. Not because of the killer. But because of the whisper she heard coming from the corner of the room.
It sounded like her mother, taunting her.
You’ll never know, Valerie, she thought it said. But she couldn’t quite make it out. Was the voice talking about her father’s DNA test? Or was it taunting her because she was unable to catch the killer stalking patients and doctors at Elmwood?
Valerie swallowed back her fear and moved toward the voice. Whatever was waiting for her there, she knew she had to find it—even if it cost her her sanity.
The whisper grew fainter, and quickly Valerie felt as though she was chasing it through the subterranean world of Elmwood.
The voices echoed, and Valerie threw caution to the wind until she found herself lost in the darkness.
Which way were the footsteps? Which way was the exit?
But Valerie refused to be defeated by her internal torment. Silencing the voices with sheer will, she continued on.
With each step, the whispers grew weaker and fainter. And as she pushed forward, a new sense of determination filled her heart.
She was done letting her mind hold her back from saving others from the clutches of this twisted world.
With a deep breath, Valerie plunged forward into the void.
As she moved through the shadows, something caught her eye—a flicker of light.
Ignoring her fear and doubts, she sprinted toward it.
The light grew brighter and brighter until she was standing in front of a door.
And without hesitating, she threw it open and stepped into the light.
She found herself in a room, lit by a solitary incandescent bulb, its yellow hue casting shadows all around. The first thing that Valerie noticed was the smell. It was a mixture of bleach and oil.
In the corner of the room was a row of cleaning products, mops and buckets, and other equipment a janitor required for odd jobs around Elmwood. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shape of a figure standing behind an open locker door.
She spun around and pointed her gun straight at it, only to realize that it wasn’t a person at all. It was a janitor’s uniform hanging up on the edge of the door. Valerie walked over to it and looked at the name tag: Saldana.
As she touched the uniform, she felt something weighty in one of the pockets. Reaching into it, she pulled out a long coil of electrical wire and a large knife.
Staring at them, Valerie imagined the janitor holding victims at knife point, only to wrap the electrical wire around their throats and then strangle them until the light went out of their eyes.
“Don’t shoot,” a familiar voice said.