Secrets Room

by Kim Faulks

  “Fuck you, you piece of shit. You fucking left me! You let them use me and you left me to die!”

  “MORGAN!” SLADE SCREAMED UNTIL HIS lungs burned. “Morgan, listen to me!”

  She was mesmerized by the hideous creature. Her face was ashen, eyes wide. She was shaking like he’d never seen before as the beast reached for her. She’d dead and that monster is taking her under the floor… it’s taking her down to Hell.

  “Fight, for God’s sake, Morgan. Fight!”

  Slade gripped his arm and inhaled sharply with the pain. He had to get his shoulder into place. He had to save her. The beast grabbed Morgan by the hair, dragging her backwards. She fought, but her blows were shaky. Slade knew time and luck were running out. He grabbed his wrist and lifted his arm, roaring with the pain as his shoulder crunched and the joint popped into place.

  HER BODY WAS JOLTED AND dragged toward the end of the room. Morgan thrashed with everything she had. She felt her hair tear, but the pain was nothing—nothing compared to the pain she’d felt inside all these years. She clawed at the beast’s hand and felt its hold on her hair slip. It growled and bent forward. The tension on her hair slackened with the motion. She knew this slender moment was her last chance to break free.

  Morgan moved as fast as she was able, scrambling to her feet. As much as she wanted to lash out at Alex, she knew it was the beast she had to battle. As the creature straightened, she lunged forward, drew her foot back, and kicked with everything she had. Her aim was straight and true, hitting the only tender place she could, praying this beast was more man than she knew. The monster roared and dropped to its knees.

  “Morgan! Morgan for God’s sake, listen to me!”

  Slade’s voice cut through the haze in her mind, but this was the end of the road for her. She knew everything she did now was for him. Without taking her eyes from the beast, she screamed.

  “Run, Slade! Get out, now. I won’t be able to hold him off forever.”

  She didn’t wait for his response. Instead, she scrambled like the cockroaches that lived in this room. Slade’s voice came to her as she launched herself onto the beast. His words were warped and strange. She pushed them to the back of her mind. Her fingers sank into the slime. It snarled and she felt the razor teeth snap, but she wound her legs around its waist and stiffened her fingers into claws. There was nothing else she could do. “Slade, run! Save yourself!”

  Morgan ripped into the beast’s face with her fingers, scratching, clawing, digging at any place she could. She felt the monster stumble and she dug harder, until her knuckles popped and her nails were filled with the demon’s slimy skin. The room was a blur as the beast spun, trying its best to throw her. But she saw enough to know Slade was gone.

  HE CRAWLED, STUMBLED, AND LURCHED toward the doorway and into the larger room. The timber slats yawned with savage, splintered teeth. Slade gripped the doorframe, ignoring the splinters driving into his palms. He wrenched the wall apart and stared through the hole into a hallway. The urge to step through was overwhelming. He wanted to run, to get to the light, but he wouldn’t leave Morgan behind. He yanked the wood, ignoring the pain in his shoulder until the timber cracked, breaking off in his hand.

  Slade swung the broken board through the air, feeling the weight in his palm. The wood wasn’t as heavy as he would’ve liked, but it would do.

  HIS SURVIVAL SPURRED HER ON. She burrowed the tips of her fingers into the monster’s face, aiming for its eyes, its mouth. The smell of hot, spoiled meat invaded her nostrils. She was hit in the side, the beast’s blows aimed for her stomach. Something inside her body snapped. The pain flared like fire inside her chest. She held on, using her hands when her legs weakened.

  The beast stumbled toward the gaping hole in the floor. It jabbed and punched and as they neared the shadowed opening, Morgan glimpsed what waited for her. Slade’s words repeated inside her mind—the words that’d sounded warped and strained. Words she didn’t want to hear.

  We’re already dead, Morgan. The beast wants to take us down to Hell. Fight it, Morgan… fight it with everything you have.

  As Morgan stared into the pit of Hell, Slade’s words made perfect sense. The room. The horrors. The dreams. Alex smiled beside her as the beast dropped into the floor and the smell of sulfur and blood filled the air. The walls of Hells shimmered like molten lava. Black exploded to red and then cooled to black once more, pulsating with a vengeance.

  The heat of Hell was instant, the pain searing as the fire raced along her body, overriding her grip and her mind. Her throat blazed and she tasted blood as she screamed. Alex reached for her as she rode the beast down to Hell. He grabbed her arm from around the beast’s neck and pulled the limb taut. His words cut through the pain.

  Let me take it all away, Morgan. Let me take everything away. She could do nothing as she watched the tip of the dirty needle pierce her vein.

  “Get the fuck off her!”

  From the corner of her eyes, Morgan saw the splintered board strike Alex. He fell backward and the needle slid from her arm, turning end over end, until it disappeared into the smoldering abyss. Morgan howled in agony as Slade wrenched her free from the beast and Hell’s grip.

  MORGAN WRITHED ON THE FLOOR. Slade wanted to touch Morgan, but he feared he’d only hurt her more. He felt so fucking useless. Her skin hissed with a heat he’d never felt before.

  Please, if you’re up there. Show me how to help her. The light pulsed between the slats, bathing Morgan’s body in an angelic glow. In an instant, the heat left her body. She stopped screaming to whimper instead. He dared to touch her.

  “It’s okay Morgan. You’re safe now.”

  She reached for him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, and in a blink of an eye, she was in his arms. “Slade? Slade. He wanted to…” She couldn’t say the words. Her body was wracked with sobs and shudders.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m never leaving you again.”

  Morgan opened her eyes. Her gaze was the purest thing he’d ever seen. His chest echoed with a beat he’d never felt before. Even in death, he was in love with this woman. Slade brushed her hair from her face and cradled her head as he spoke.

  “It’s the light, Morgan. That’s where we need to get to. There’s a hole in the wall, we can get out of here. But we have to go now, before that thing comes for us.”

  Her body shuddered and he gripped her. “We’re going to be okay. I promise. I won’t ever leave you again, okay? But I need to tell you something. This room isn’t really a room, and that monster wanted to take you down to….”

  He stared into her eyes and the words died in his mouth. How can I tell her that she’s not alive? That she’ll never see her family again?

  “Just tell me, Slade. What is it? What is this place?”

  “This place is like a damn holding cell for the dead, Morgan.”

  Shock, took the life from her eyes and he stared into a cold abyss. “I’m dead? No. No, that’s not true… I don’t remember… I….”

  “I didn’t either, until that last fucking dream. I saw it all, Morgan.” He shivered and felt her grip tighten. “I felt it all.”

  He waited while his words sank in. Morgan flinched, her grip on him tightened, fists shuddering until his shirt shook and her whole body trembled. “If we’re dead, then why fight? Let the fucking beast take us wherever we’re supposed to go.”

  Slade shook his head and felt fear rear up inside. He had to make her understand. “Because, right now, in this room, we’re in no-man’s land. The beast wants to take us down to Hell. I’m trying to stop that from happening. I’m trying to get us out there.” He pointed to the walls and the blinding white light.

  Morgan lifted her eyes to the glare. “What if I don’t deserve the light? What if I’m meant for Hell?”

  “I don’t believe that.” Silence followed his words. To him, Morgan was worth fighting for and he was prepared to fight until the end—for her.

  “You saw your death? Didn’
t you, Slade? It’s these fucking dreams, I can’t stop them.”

  He clutched her close while the ache in his stomach returned, a reminder of the choice he’d made and the life he’d left behind. “You don’t want to stop them, Morgan. You have to face whatever it is you’ve been running from. You have to find forgiveness.”

  SLADE’S WORDS HIT HER LIKE a slap. You have to find forgiveness…. She pushed away from him and climbed to her feet.

  How do I find forgiveness I don’t deserve? Tears slid down her face as the image of her father returned.

  “Whatever the secret is, Morgan, you have to face it.”

  She shook her head and slapped away the tears sliding down her face. “I can’t. It doesn’t matter anyway. Like you said, none of this is real.”

  He grabbed her arm and jerked her toward him. His eyes were blazing, his lips drawn into a snarl. “Yes it is! Don’t you understand, this is as real as it’s ever gonna get! This is the ultimate battle—the only battle that will ever matter. We don’t know how long that hole will be there, Morgan. We have to leave now, before the devil’s handyman gets off his damn lunch break and strolls outta that pit with nails and a piece of two by four.”

  He looked up and Morgan followed his gaze. The light cutting through the cracks in the walls seemed to pulse, calling to her. “What’s out there?”

  He dropped his gaze. “I don’t know, but it’s got to be better than what’s in here. It’s a chance, and right now, it’s all we’ve got.”

  She nodded. Her heart ached. Her throat clenched, but she forced the words. “As long as we’re together.”

  His amber eyes darkened, but he smiled. “As long as we’re together.”

  Morgan struggled to stand. Her chest still pounded painfully, but the searing pain was gone now, thank God. “Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  She waited for him to rise and took one final look behind her at the portal to Hell.

  That beast is going to come after us. If we run, we’d better run fast. Slade limped ahead of her and she followed, not knowing where they headed. She’d run and fight for as long as she had to—just for them to be together.

  The broken slat opened wide, like a hungry mouth, its teeth sharp. Slade punched through the top, widening the gap so she could get through. He gripped her hand, his touch as real as anything she’d ever felt, and in that moment, she didn’t want to let him go.

  He pushed through the wall, following her, and for the first time since she woke, Morgan found herself outside of the room. The clean hallway stretched out on either side of them, with no end in sight. She waited for Slade to move, following his lead. He looked behind them, but pushed left. They walked, stealing glances at one another, heading toward the light and the end.

  Screams echoed through the hallway. The muffled sounds of terror had Morgan spinning, searching behind her, but there was never anything there. Slade moved to the wall. She remained quiet, while he listened. The cries were there, tortured sounds that became clearer as she pushed her ear against the wall.

  “Please, help us! Please someone, help us.” A woman sobbed from the other side of the wall. “Why are we in here? I’ll pay anything… just let me out!”

  Morgan stumbled, reeling away until she hit the other side of the hallway.

  “Hey!” Slade pounded the wall. The sound of his fists drowned out the screams. “Hey, you in there!”

  Jesus… Morgan’s heart hammered, each blow felt as though it split her chest in two while the woman’s screams echoed behind her. Only, the voice behind her sounded older now. Her howls turned to snarls and the sound of screaming filtered through the cracks in the walls.

  She turned and stared at the wall, wanting to reach out, but her arms were heavy as lead. She swallowed.

  “Slade.” He couldn’t hear her. His fierce pummeling drowned out her call. Morgan tried again. “Slade.”

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wood, though the slashing and growls behind the partition made her blood run cold. Slade moved behind her, the heat rolling off his body, towering over her, felt comforting, but Morgan knew even he was no match for the evil that waited in there. Her back hummed with vibrations from his chest as he spoke. “What is it?”

  She followed the wall with her gaze for as long as she could and turned cold as stone. “There’re others in these rooms. Others, who’re trapped.”

  Marching through the endless hallway, they heard more screams. The sounds echoed, transforming into begging, crying. Men, women, who, like them, woke in a room filled with horror and no way out. How many rooms where here? Tens, hundreds… thousands?

  Dad, please, put the gun down… The distant sound of her own voice had Morgan searching behind her for the ghosts of her past. And they were all there… waiting for her. Morgan’s heart echoed the sound of a gunshot and the sharp, metallic scent of the gunpowder filled the air.

  “No.” She tried to fight the past. She clawed at the air, desperately trying to escape the torment, but her fight was useless. Like the changing of the tides, her judgment was upon her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  Morgan found herself standing inside her childhood home. Her father clutched his chest as he lay on the ground. His rasping breaths filtered through the ringing in her ears that the gunshot left behind. Morgan wanted to move, to drop to her knees beside him, but she couldn’t. She was frozen.

  “Morgan, help me.”

  Her father wheezed. His breaths were short, shallow, not enough to sustain life. She closed her eyes as her body shook.

  If she could just have a fix, she’d be able to think. She’d be able to help. Help him, Morgan… help him, or he’ll die. Slick, fat tears slid down her face as his breaths slowed. Her knees buckled, breaking the spell. She stumbled forward, falling to the ground next to him.

  Her father’s face was blue, his eyes wide. His lips moved, whispering words she couldn’t absorb, before his jaw slackened. His breath blew against her cheeks in one long hiss, and then fell silent.

  Her tears burned like acid. Her mother’s jewels gouged her hip. She clawed at the pocket, tearing the necklaces from her jeans, to throw the jewelry she had no right to take against the wall. The room suddenly brightened.

  “Jeremy?”

  Morgan jerked her gaze toward the sound and watched her mother stop in the middle of the room, her wide eyes moving from the body of her husband to her druggie-thief of a daughter. The bag of groceries she held hit the floor with a thud. Morgan watched a tin of beef broth roll across the floor, to stop at the couch. The rational part of her brain shrank from the horror, while some unhinged part, thought that maybe the soup would fix her father. He mother’s soup had always fixed her when she was a child.

  “Jeremy!” Her mother screamed. The high squeal ricocheted inside Morgan’s head. “Call an ambulance, Morgan… Morgan! Call for a fucking ambulance!”

  Morgan stumbled, and fell to the floor, then reached for the phone on the counter. Her fingers shook, but she managed to stab the numbers and dialed 911. The cruel sequence of events now made sense. Her father had stayed at home, feeling unwell, while her mother went to the store. This was all her fault, why did this have to be this night? Why did she have to come here?

  She slid to the floor, listening to the drone of the 911 operator, while inside, she was screaming. Her mother’s jewelry lay scattered around the room. The gold sparkled in the glow of the overhead lights—mocking her. Her mother pushed against her father’s chest, taking turns to blow in his mouth while she begged. “No… no… no. Don’t you leave me, Jeremy. Please, come back. Come back to me… Jeremy… Jeremy!”

  Morgan would’ve taken her mother’s blows. She would’ve taken her wrath, but the sound of her anguish ripped something inside her that would never heal—and she deserved every fucking minute of it.

  “You did this!”

  Morgan lifted her gaze to her mother. Her pain was torture and rivaled the hate in her eyes—hate fo
r her. Morgan nodded and closed her eyes while she whispered into the phone. “Please don’t let him die. Take me instead. Please, God, let me die instead.”

  SLADE HOISTED MORGAN OVER HIS shoulder and pushed on, praying he was heading the right way. She whimpered in his ear, calling for her father.

  “That’s the way, baby. Face it,” he whispered, turning to look behind him.

  The haunting screams behind the walls would cover any sound behind him. Always on the defensive, he kept watch, limping along the endless hallway. Each step mirrored a growing sense of unease. He should’ve gone the other way… this fucking tunnel was leading nowhere. Still he kept moving, searching for a way out, while Morgan relived the tormented echoes of her past.

  He passed endless rooms and heard endless voices behind the walls. With each step, he felt as though he was abandoning them, leaving these pitiful souls for a fate worse than their death. He clung tighter to Morgan. He couldn’t fight them all and he had to save her—she’d be the one who would save his soul. She was the one who finally made him feel complete.

  YOU DID THIS! MORGAN SWALLOWED her mother’s vengeance as she sat on the floor in her family home. Her words were screamed in the heat of anger, but her words were true just the same. Morgan had been the cause of everything. She nodded at her mother’s hatred while the red and blue lights danced around the walls and her family home was invaded with strangers and stretchers. Neither would help her father now. Still, Morgan kept nodding, and while the mantra of those words carved their way deeper, the ambulance attendants loaded her father’s body onto the stretcher and covered his face with a sheet.