Page 77 of Hunted By Fear

Whatever it is, I don’t want to think too hard about it when I’m here alone, so I move from the bench to swim closer to the steps to look at the statues.

They remind me of the statues you would see in relation to mythology, but instead of grays and whites, they’re all black.

Sleek and shiny, each is a different mythical beast: a minotaur, a centaur, a gorgon that I assume to be Medusa, and a hydra.

Not too long ago, I didn’t know that demons and angels were real, so does that mean these creatures are as well?

Despite the heat of the water, I feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I look at the details sculpted into them.

Fuck, I hope they aren’t real because they look terrifying.

A scream rips itself from deep in my lungs as I stumble back, almost going under in the suddenly too-deep water.

Something touched my foot.

I thought I saw something earlier, but I’d brushed it off. This isn’t like that, though. I know what I felt, and it was big and…

My chest heaves as I try to pull in a deep breath, but between my panic and the water, I’m not getting more than shallow pants.

I back up until my legs hit the invisible bench, and suddenly I’m sitting. I might be splashing and making waves, but the ripple that is coming toward me is not from me; I’m one hundred percent sure of that.

The fucking stairs are behind it, and with the way it moves, I know I have no chance of getting around it.

Looks like I’ll be climbing out the side.

I don’t give myself a second to think about it, instead trusting my instincts. In case I was ever curious, I’m definitely aflightand notfightkind of person, though I guess that was kind of obvious with the way I ran from Rome.

Scrambling out of the bath, I scrape my knee on the edge of the stone but don’t give it a second thought as I push to stand. I’m out of the water, but it doesn’t feel like enough; I keep moving. The floor is a lot slicker when you're terrified and dripping wet, moving like your life depends on it because it very well might.

For the first time since I woke up here, I’m afraid of where I am.

This is Hell after all.

Fuck, where is Bast, or Ruin?

I move to the edge of the room, my back to the wall. The door is to my right, on the far side of the room. The wall of windows and sculptures to my left.

Do I run out into the hall naked?

Can I outrun whatever it is in there? Somehow, I don’t feel like I can.

My mind is going a million miles a minute, picturing all the things that might come out of that water, but none of it prepares me for what actually does.

A snake.

Or at least I think that’s what it is, because in my mind I think of snakes like the ones at the pet stores or the small ones in the backyard. This is nothing like that.

This snake is so big I’m not sure how the fuck it even fit in there without me stepping all over it.

I want to scream, yell for someone, anyone, but I can’t. Panic chokes me, and I’m left staring into the eyes of this snake, who I’m about ninety-nine percent sure is about to make me a snack because I’m not even big enough to be a damn meal to the thing.

Ruin had warned me about the hounds, but not this thing? If I get a chance to haunt someone, it’s totally going to be him.

The snake continues toward me, and frozen like the coward I am, I do the only thing there is left to do and close my eyes.

Fuck, of all the ways to die, I never thought it would be from a snake.

Honestly, for a while there, I really thought it would be at the hands of Rome, and given the choice, this is definitely better, so at least there’s that.