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D ark thoughts ooze through me like sticky black tar.

Day two brings with it another round of antibiotics, daily meals by a no-name musclehead I’ve dubbed Roger II, and a sense of detachment that has been festering to a boiling point.

My ankle chain rattles as I shift in place, leaning against the wall and missing his voice. All my tears have dried up, my throat raw from pain-laden screams.

I’ve become a liability. No freedom, no perks. I’m shackled now by silver manacles—an irony, considering I’ve been bound to this wall since the day Isaac first appeared on the other side.

Tethered to him.

Chained to the hope he brought with him.

Sighing, I rest my head back and close my eyes, rolling the smooth blue guitar pick between my thumb and finger. A small comfort. The scent of bacon and eggs makes my stomach curdle. I haven’t eaten, which has only caused the antibiotics to sit in the pit of my stomach like toxic bricks. I’m nauseous, tired, and done. I don’t want to do this anymore.

I can’t.

My eyelids squeeze tighter when the keypad on my door chimes to life, those evasive numbers forever haunting me. Isaac was so close.

He returned for me…and I failed him.

When the door pushes open, I make a hasty decision and shove the guitar pick into my knotted mound of hair, securing it between the mats.

It’s probably pointless.

But if there’s even the smallest chance we both make it out of here alive…

“Rise and shine.” The Timekeeper traipses into my room, latching the door behind him. He fiddles with the cufflink of his silver-sequined sleeve, his tone sickeningly cheerful.

I smooth down my hair and glare at him with deadened eyes. “Kill me.”

“Well, you’re extra chipper this morning. Must be the eggs. There’s a touch of goat cheese.” He mimics a chef’s kiss.

I kick the plate of breakfast with my heel, and the eggs and bacon go flying. “Kill me,” I repeat, my expression a mask of indifference. “I know you want to.”

“Do I?” He clasps his hands behind his back and paces in front of me, his glossy black shoes scuffing across the floor. “Interesting fact about me: if you beg me for something, I’ll be inclined to do the exact opposite. And I’ll do it the most extravagant way possible.” He hums through a chuckle. “It’s always been a quirk of mine.”

Just as I’d hoped.

I pull to a stand, my chains clattering.

My throat thickens with bitterness, pulse revving with rage.

“I’ve always been drawn to the melodramatics,” he continues, removing the hourglass attached to his belt. “My mother thought I’d be a showman one day. She called me an ‘attention-seeker.’” He does a one-handed air quote while spinning the hourglass in his opposite hand with long, manicured fingers. “I prefer the term opportunist . And, well, I’ve always believed that even the savviest of businessmen should aim to stretch their imaginations from time to time. Professions become nothing but tedious labor when you don’t allow yourself a little fun.” Smirking, he fondly studies the hourglass in a loose grip before glancing at me. “Don’t you agree?”

I curl my hands at my sides. “Is that for me?” Swallowing, I look at the hourglass and shrug. “I don’t need a timer. Just get it over with.”

He tilts his head to the side, studying me with an air of pity. “It’s as if you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

“Oh, I heard you, loud and clear. You’re a spineless, evil stain on humanity. You enjoy pain, torture, and death. You’re a cavity; an infected wound that rots and spreads, poisoning everything around you.” I spit at his shoes but miss. “You can’t hurt me anymore.”

He lifts a finger with glee. “Ooh. I do detect a challenge.”

“You’ve already killed me,” I volley back, stepping closer. “Might as well make it official.”

Licking his lips, he rolls his gaze over me from head to toe as excitement gleams in his multicolored eyes. One brown, one clear-blue.

Both might as well be black.

“Oh, Everly…you’re not dead yet. Not even close.” He meets me in the center of the room, just out of reach. “And I’d like to prove that to you.”

Something icy prickles the back of my neck.

Fear.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

I frown, my heart thumping. “What?”

The Timekeeper returns the hourglass to its chain, then removes a piece of black cloth and a key. He approaches me.

My eyes narrow as I inch away. He’s dressed to impress, wearing a tailored suit and a mint green tie. But the scar that travels along the side of his neck like a jagged river tells me he failed to impress somebody.

Lifting the cloth, he grabs me by the hair and starts tying it around my eyes.

A blindfold.

“Don’t touch me.” I try shimmying out of his grip, but he’s stronger than he looks. And I’m weak, broken-down, and battered.

“Now, now…no need to waste your strength. If I wanted to kill you, I would.”

“You want to watch me suffer,” I spit out, my vision blackening.

“That is more fun.”

I hear the key breach the cuff around my ankle, and I’m free. I shove at him, moving to get away, but he snatches me by the arm and hauls me forward.

“Let me go.” Kicking my legs, hoping to connect with something, I hardly manage a light knock to his knees. “Stop, please. I don’t want to go. Just let me rot away in this cell.”

I’d rather die here.

This was the last place I heard his voice.

Tears moisten the fabric of my blindfold, my survival instincts peaking. The Timekeeper curls his vile fingers around my arm, then grips me by the hair with the other. We’re moving. I’m stumbling. He holds me upright as I kick and punch the air, shouting and cursing through clenched teeth. My equilibrium teeters, my lack of sight throwing me off balance.

“Such a feisty thing,” he snarls against my ear. Warm, noxious breath makes my skin crawl. “Save that fighting spirit. You’ll need it.”

I cry out as he drags me down long corridors, my feet sliding, toes stubbing on cool tile. A minute passes, and I’m thrown into a room, landing on my hands and knees. The sound of a door shuts behind me. I curl my fingers into the floor as I try to catch my breath, fear coiling around every inch of me. I hear my life force pumping in my ears. My skin puckers with goosebumps. The Timekeeper holds the blindfold tightly around my head as I try to yank it off and scratch at his hands.

And then I hear it.

I go still.

A song.

The first few notes ring out, freezing me to the floor. I stop moving, stop clawing, my heartbeats a frenzied dance to a melody that’s never far from my mind.

The Scientist.

I’m breathing heavily, drinking in the chords and lyrics as the singer croons the theme song to my soul. Tears well, trapped by the itchy cloth.

“What is this…” I croak out, weeping with bone-deep emotion.

“Oh, you know, silly.” He chuckles, tugging the blindfold off my eyes. “It’s your favorite song. I thought this moment was deserving of a soundtrack.”

“How—how did you…?” Has he been listening to us, after all? I blink rapidly, trying to rein in my muddy vision. We’re in a tiny holding room—sterile, blank, no different from my cell. Glancing around, I try to make out something of relevance, but there’s nothing.

“Well, it would be irresponsible of me not to educate myself on the ins and outs of my long-term residents, don’t you think? Especially when it takes nothing more than a quick Google search to pull up that interview you did on social media, just before your life took such an unfortunate turn.”

Bile burns the back of my throat.

He’s toying with me.

“Stand up.” He nudges me with his foot until I rise to shaky legs. “Walk.”

Moisture slides down my cheeks as I step forward, the song playing from an overhead speaker system. He jabs me again, toward another door.

“Please.” It’s a whisper, a plea for something. For anything other than this. I know death looms on the other side of that blank door. It’s a trick, an illusion. A doorway to hell. “Please don’t do this.”

A hand meets my back, shoving me forward. Stumbling, I move closer to the door, holding my breath as my hand pulls the handle.

I open it.

My eyes lock on a man tied to a chair with a bag over his head.

Dolph stands beside the man, his barreling arms crossed over his chest as he stares at me with emotionless dark eyes.

I part my lips to say something, but only a squeak falls out.

I’m pushed farther inside, and the door shuts behind me. I glance at The Timekeeper, taking in the look of pure enchantment on his face.

Then I look back over at the man.

His head is bowed, both corded arms locked behind his back with thick rope. Dirty jeans taper two long legs, his feet bare, ankles chained to chair legs. A navy T-shirt is glued to his muscled torso, torn and tattered, stained with dark-brown blood.

My chin quivers. “Who is this?”

The man’s head snaps up—every muscle tightens, his veins popping. “Everly.”

My eyes widen as all the air whooshes out of me.

I can’t breathe.

The song plays, my heart twists, and my body lurches forward. “Isaac!”

He’s alive.

He’s alive.

My tears fall harder as I rush over to him, desperate to pull the bag off his head. Needing to see his face. But I’m caught by my hair the moment I’m within reaching distance. “No!”

Isaac works his chains and ropes, shaking the chair so hard it nearly tips over. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

“Isaac,” I wail, held back by a firm hand as I twist and writhe to break free. “Let me go. Let me fucking go!”

The Timekeeper sighs. “Sweetie, vulgarity really isn’t becoming on you.” Then he clicks his tongue. Dolph saunters forward, taking over, extracting me from my captor’s grasp and holding me with two solid arms.

I keep fighting, kicking, screaming.

“I’m going to skin you alive,” Isaac seethes, his words muffled by the bag.

“So dramatic. The both of you.” He unhooks the hourglass from his belt and holds it in the palm of his hand, his head tilting as he studies it with whimsy. “They say life is like an hourglass. Poetic drivel if you ask me.”

Isaac yanks and tugs on his binds through angry grunts, his muscles bulging with fury.

I bite Dolph’s arm, causing him to shove me to my knees as he palms the back of my neck in a deathlike grip.

Whistling the chorus of “The Scientist,” our captor strolls over to Isaac and sets the timepiece in front of him, far enough away from his flailing chair legs.

Sand gently pours from top to bottom.

I sob, my heart caving in on itself with every passing second.

“You see, I have this client,” he presses on, pacing back and forth, a picture of composure. “A big-game hunter, if you will. He’s looking for a challenger. A worthy prey.”

Ice trickles through my bloodstream.

A hunter.

Of people.

I gaze helplessly at Isaac, knowing where this story is going. “Take me,” I blurt out, squirming in Dolph’s hold. “I’ll do it.”

“You.” The Timekeeper smiles, assessing me. “How noble. I admire that.”

“I’m small. Fast. Quick on my feet.” My stomach lurches with crippling anxiety. “I…I can be a worthy challenger.”

“Not a fucking chance,” Isaac growls. “Everly, stop talking.” The chair jerks and shudders, scraping against the floor. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

“No, please, let me do it,” I beg through my tears.

“Everyone is so quick to fall on the sword.” The monster purses his lips, glancing between me and Isaac. “However, I do have a better idea. I’ll give you a choice, Everly. You can decide who this hourglass belongs to.”

I stop thrashing, waiting for the punchline. “I told you, I’ll do it?—”

The Timekeeper gestures at the door. Dolph tightens his hold on me as he steps backward, then pulls it open by the handle.

Twisting around, I watch in confusion as two guards drag another man into the room by his armpits.

Khaki pants. A burgundy button-down dress shirt. Black socks.

There’s a burlap bag covering his head, just like Isaac’s.

A frown bends my brows as my heart rate escalates.

What is this?

The stranger is tossed into the room like a sack of rice, passed out cold. He lies sprawled across the white tile, a few feet away from me, while the two guards slam the door shut. Silence echoes, save for the song chiming overhead. It starts over, the opening chords replaying.

I swallow hard. “I don’t understand.”

“No worries. I’ll explain.” The Timekeeper bends to pick up the hourglass, then floats across the floor toward the second man. He pauses before walking back to Isaac, the glass piece gleaming under the can lights. “I have a proposition for you, Everly. Until recently, you’ve been a well-trained prisoner. Zero hassles. I appreciate that.” He grins with omen. “I thought I’d reward you for your years of good behavior.”

Adrenaline spikes, and my stomach cramps.

“As I said, my client is looking for his next challenge, and these two men have made the cut. But I only need one.” His eyes slice to mine. “I’ll let you choose who is set free. Your new friend, Isaac…or this man.”

My gazes ping-pongs between the two men.

No.

“I’m not choosing,” I hiss. “That’s sick.”

“Then they both die, and I’ll find a new contender.” A shrug. “At least this way, you won’t have two senseless murders plaguing that pretty conscience of yours.” He places a flat palm against his chest. “I’ll let the other man go home. You have my word.”

Oh, God.

I can’t see through my tears. “No…please, I can’t.”

Isaac’s arms twist, legs kicking, chest heaving. “Pick me,” he grits out. “Choose me, Bee. I’ll tear his fucking head off and get us all out of here. You know I will.”

My wide, teary eyes remain fixed on him as liquid heat swims through my veins.

Of course I need to choose him.

It’s Isaac.

He would do the same for me. In a heartbeat.

He already did.

I whip my head back and forth, nails digging into Dolph’s flesh so hard blood seeps to the surface. “Isaac,” I say, forcing back the guilty bile. “I choose Isaac.”

A smile lifts on The Timekeeper’s mouth. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Let him go.”

Our captor stalks forward, approaching the body lying motionless in front of me as the man’s chest lightly expands with each shallow breath.

He leans over to set the hourglass in front of him…

And hesitates.

“You’re certain? This one looks a bit…scrawny.” He pokes the man’s hip with the toe of his shoe. “I don’t reckon he’ll last very long. Isaac seems to be the wiser participant.”

White-hot guilt filters through me, and I do everything in my power to keep myself from vomiting. I look back over at Isaac, who is still trying to escape his binds.

He won’t.

He can’t.

“Everly, listen to me,” Isaac pleads, tone gritty with desperation. “I. Will. Get. Us. Out. Of. Here. All of us .” He’s growling, spitting against the bag. “Pick me. I’ve got this. Trust me.”

“Isaac,” I shout again, slamming a fist to the floor. My throat is scraped raw with my cries as I internally beg for this moment to be over. “I’ve made my choice. Please. End this.”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” A sly look is sent to one of the guards. “Perhaps you need more context.”

He flicks his finger.

A burly guard crosses the room toward the other man.

“I’ll give you one more chance to make a final decision, so choose wisely. Once the choice is made, it cannot be reversed.” The Timekeeper sneers in my direction. “I hope you can live with yours.”

I watch with a flimsy heart and tear-glazed eyes as the guard bends over the man, reaching for his bag.

Time stops.

My blood freezes.

In a blink, everything changes. Shifts.

The walls shrink. The room closes in on me.

I stare, shellshocked, as the burlap sack is removed from the man’s head.

Slapping a hand over my mouth, I let out a strangled cry of disbelief while horror surges through me like a deadly tsunami.

It can’t be.

This isn’t real.

No.

No, no…

NO!

Isaac goes still, taking in the moment.

Drinking in the sound of my blood-curdling screams.

My devastated heart.

Everything around me spins and blurs as I collapse to the floor with a thunderous wail.

“Jasper.”