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I saac?

I step away from the wall, frowning.

Did I hear that right?

Isaac.

The notion of an alias brings with it an assortment of new questions. Who is he? Why would he lie about his name? Is he undercover? Why is he really here?

Is he a part of this?

No.

That’s impossible. He’s trapped, chained, a prisoner like me. Like all of us.

I go silent, waiting to hear it again, but The Timekeeper only says it once.

Maybe I misheard.

My mind is still racing when I flinch in place, and my attention whips right.

3, 2, 4…8.

I think the last number is eight.

Four pings, and then?—

“No—” I lurch backward and scream just as the door whooshes open. My unstable feet carry me toward the far wall, until my spine is flush against it. Silly. I have nowhere to go, except for wherever he takes me—and he’s going to take me. “Don’t touch me!”

“Testy today.” Marching forward, The Timekeeper fiddles with the cufflink of his suit, tailored and fitted with indulgent royal-purple satin. He’s dressed to the nines, costumed more for an eccentric social function, instead of an execution. “It’s too early for solicitations. I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

I try to dodge him.

Fail.

He snatches me by the bicep and hauls me away from the wall, dragging me toward the open door. My heart hammers between my ribs, a heavy bass drum. Twisting and squirming, I do everything I can to pry myself from his grip, desperate for escape. “No!” He squeezes tighter, bruising my arm. “Get your hands off me!”

Nick— Isaac?— pounds on the wall beside me. “You’re a fucking coward.” He’s pissed-off, rattled, unlike the typically calm and controlled man I’ve come to know. “Pathetic. Preying on someone helpless because you’re weak. It’s me you want, you impotent bastard.”

The Timekeeper says nothing and continues to drag me toward the doorway, while I trip over loose books.

I dig my heels into the tile, skin burning. Body writhing. Limbs flailing.

Fruitless.

I’m going to die today.

Using his opposite hand, he fists me by the hair for better leverage.

My lungs squeeze, scalp stings, and my stomach drops to the sterile floor. I scream. “Nick!” There’s nothing Nick can do. Self-preservation and instinct take over, trumping logic and sound reason. “No, stop, please! Nick !”

Nick’s pounding tapers off with a final hard smack . “Fine! Take her. I don’t care. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

Something inside of me withers. Wilts.

What the hell?

“Nothing appealing will come from acting rebellious,” my captor drawls, a picture of contentment as he effortlessly schleps me through the threshold by the roots of my hair. His pitch rises an octave, his words carrying over to Nick through the wall. “Let this be your lesson in practicing good behavior, my friend.”

The door swings shut behind me, and I’m in a hallway.

My objective brain clicks on as I push the terror aside, canting my head in every direction, drinking in the sights and sounds. I only have seconds, moments. If I manage to break free, I can describe my surroundings and get help for the others.

Stay calm, Everly.

I’ve never seen the outside of my room before. Every other time, I’d been drugged, a broken doll being transported away like a bag of trash on garbage day.

Dampness coats my cheeks with sweat and tears. I loosen my muscles, feigning obedience, as my kidnapper breezily sweeps me down a long corridor. It’s well-lit, pristine. The scent of lemon cleaning product wafts under my nose as I gaze at the barren walls: two doors, a large gap between them, another two doors. Several voices wail with mourning like lonely ghosts unable to cross over. A chain clashes. My skin prickles with goosebumps and bone-deep dread.

Victims.

People.

People with stories and dreams, subjected to this horrific fate. I stay quiet, only letting out a squeak when my feet stumble over themselves and I almost face-plant. The Timekeeper hardly flinches, lifting me back to wobbly legs while I try to remain balanced.

“Where are you taking me?” I demand, though I know he won’t tell me. He gets off on my fear.

“That would spoil the fun, now, wouldn’t it?”

“Did you call him Isaac?”

Unbothered, he keeps going, pulling me forward. “Did I? There are a lot of things you don’t know about your new sidekick,” he says. “Maybe you’ll find out…maybe you won’t.”

“What are your plans for him?” I grunt and resist, my bare feet sliding every which way. “Why is he here?”

“You’re a curious thing.” He clicks his tongue as we veer around a corner, the hallway an exact replica of the one we were just in. “Your concern is touching. Truly.”

We reach the end of the hall, topped off with a steel door. My insides pitch with apprehension. Fear. “Please, you don’t need to do this.”

“Presumptuous of you to assume you understand my needs.” He opens the door with a keycard, then roughly hauls me through it. “I’d say a time-out is in order.”

Stairs.

Darkness.

I trip on the first step, simultaneously trying to rotate from his grasp. In one fluid motion, he picks me up like I’m a sack of flour and plants me atop his shoulder.

I flash back to that night.

Bouncing on a madman’s back as I’m carried from my beautiful home.

Drugs coursing through my bloodstream.

Jasper, sprawled out in the middle of our foyer, drowning in a pool of his own mortality.

I start fighting. Claws out, feet thrashing, teeth bared. “You bastard. You monster . Let me go. Let me go !”

He ignores me as easily as he trots me through the chasm of darkness, my hair tumbling in front of my face, blotting out any possibility of sight. I can’t visualize anything as I rake my nails up and down his back, hardly penetrating the lavish satin fabric. It smells dank, musty, and old. A basement, likely skittering with hungry rats and roaches. Tears burst from my eyes in a geyser of terror, and my screams morph into panicked cries. “No, no, please…” It’s a wail, a begging plea for mercy. “Don’t kill me. I’m not ready to die. Please… please .”

He sighs with boredom as we turn a corner, the sound of his shiny shoes scuffing against the cement echoing through me. “So dramatic. It grates me.”

I wonder how I’ll go.

I’ve imagined every scenario—from gruesome, to quick and painless. A hacksaw to my jugular. A needle in my arm. A bullet through my forehead.

Starvation.

Eaten alive by blood-thirsty rodents.

Drowning. Burning.

A broken heart.

My nostrils flare, my chest inflating with volatile breaths.

No.

I can’t die like this, not now, not after surviving in this prison for two years. I refuse. “You’re not done with me yet,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “I know you’re not. I just started a new cycle.”

“How observant of you.”

“You still need me.”

“Again, you presume my needs. That’s never wise.” Hauling me off his shoulder, he spins me around, then grips me by the nape of my neck and propels me forward. “I’ll have Roger bring you a glass of water and a slice of bread. Multi-grain. It’s the least I can do.”

I drop to my knees, skidding across the dirty, cold pavement as tiny pebbles leave scrapes along my shins and kneecaps. I’m on my feet in an instant, lurching through the darkness, just as a steel-barred door slams in my face and a key quickly locks me in.

“No!” I curl both hands around the iron bars, shaking them fruitlessly. “Don’t leave me here. Please. I’ll be good. I’ll?—”

He starts whistling as his shadow retreats from my new cell. “This will be beneficial for you, Everly. You’ve become too comfortable here, too spoiled. I hope you take this opportunity to appreciate the luxuries you’ve been given.” Pivoting away, The Timekeeper tosses a few final words over his shoulder before disappearing into obscurity like a predator swallowed by the night. “Not everyone is so lucky.”

I scream so loud I feel my throat chafing with raw agony. Wailing, bellowing, screeching like a banshee, I pound frail fists against the iron grates, pulling, tugging, doing nothing but wearing myself down. It’s no use. I’m trapped, isolated, and terrified.

I drop down on my butt and curl my knees to my chest.

Shadows move and roam.

Creatures lurk.

Animal? Human?

I’d take ghosts and monsters over these inhumane humans any day. I’d let the rats chew through my bones before I’d let The Timekeeper snuff out my life. He doesn’t deserve the privilege.

Minutes tick by as the darkness devours my whimpers and cries.

My eyes play tricks on me.

How long has it been?

I forgot to count the seconds.

When I hear footsteps from above, my head snaps up, but I can’t even see the ceiling. It’s a pitch-black sky of endless uncertainty. Oppressive. Icy fear trickles through me, and I start to shiver, rocking back and forth on the stony cement. My nightgown is hardly a worthy substitute for my mattress, providing no cushion, no insulation.

Something crawls along my toes.

Anyone else might flick it away, stomp on it, but I revel at the contact. Likely a spider. Another lifeform, keeping me company. I’m not alone.

I scoot backward until my spine meets with stone. My limbs tremble, aching for warmth, and I do everything in my power to shut off my mind. I retreat into blankness, much like I did during my first few weeks here. It’s my only power.

Roger finds me sometime later— minutes, hours? —and I scramble to my feet, stumbling toward the iron-clad door as I wrap my palms around the bars. “Roger.”

Nothing.

His shadow is massive, looming across from me as a hand reaches between the slats with a plastic cup of room-temperature water. Part of me wants to slap it away, but I’d only be hurting myself.

I take it and drink.

He tosses a slice of dry bread into the cell.

Dropping the cup, I shoot forward and snatch his arm before he pulls away. “Roger, please.” My voice is soft, melodic, a picture of sincerity. “Help me.”

I can’t see his face.

Is he smiling?

Am I reaching him?

My touch remains gentle, my fingers loosely coiling around his meaty forearm. Coarse hairs tickle me as I brush the pad of my thumb across his skin.

But I wince when he violently rips his arm from my grip with a furious grunt, the force of it sending me staggering back. “No…no, please. You have a heart; I know you do. You can do the right thing. I won’t tell. I won’t tell anyone. I—” The shadow retreats, evaporating into the blackness as I grab my hair with both hands. “Roger, please!”

A heavy door claps shut.

He’s gone.

He left me here to rot.

I collapse to the unforgiving floor and burrow into a one-person huddle, my arms around my knees, head bowed. Time trudges by in agonizing increments.

I start counting the seconds.

I count out loud, my raspy, torn-up voice reminding me that I’m still here, still breathing, still capable of surviving this.

Fifty-two, fifty-three…

My hand sifts around for the stale piece of bread, and I nibble on the ends, counting between bites.

One-thousand-eighty-seven…

I think of Nick.

Isaac.

Whoever he is.

I envision what he looks like, try to put a face to the gritty, masculine voice that often cracks with veiled vulnerability. He’s not immune to this. He’s hurting, too.

But he told the monster to take me away.

I wonder if he’s already forgotten about me.

His image is hazy; a blurry, foggy face with dark eyes and darker hair.

Handsome.

I bet he’s handsome in that rugged, unapproachable way. Tall. Well-muscled. While Jasper wore form-fitting slacks and silken ties, always groomed to perfection, I picture Nick in a different way. Ratty jeans and T-shirts, with a disheveled tousle of inky hair. He’s messy. Disorder. A nightmare disguised as a dream.

Ten-thousand-thirty-nine…

My eyes begin to draw shut like age-old blinds, all sound drowning out. Even my voice fades into nothingness as vivid flashes creep into my psyche and haunt me with images of men in black cloaks. A ritual of blood and fire. Daggers gleam and torches burn, while I lie strapped to a wooden table, naked and carved, as The Timekeeper looms over me with a smile.

I’m the sacrifice.

I startle awake moments later, sprawled out across the cold cement.

I’ve lost track of the seconds, so I start over.

One, two, three…

Wiggling my toes, I think of the spider. Wonder if it’s near, keeping an eye on me.

But I don’t feel it anymore.

Even it has left me.