Into the lion's den

Chapter 13: Into the Lion's Den

The Blackwell Facility loomed in the distance, its skeletal remains barely visible beneath the moonlight. The once-grand asylum had long since fallen into decay, but if Clara was right, its purpose hadn't changed. It had just gone underground.

Elias parked his car a few blocks away and approached on foot. The wind howled through broken windows, carrying whispers of the past. He adjusted his coat, keeping his gun within reach.

The front entrance was boarded up, but he wasn't planning on knocking. He moved along the perimeter, searching for another way in. A rusted side door caught his attention. He tested the handle—locked, of course.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Elias pulled out a set of lockpicks. Years of experience had made the process second nature. A few tense seconds later, the lock gave way with a soft click.

He stepped inside, greeted by stale air and darkness. The floor creaked beneath his boots. The place felt abandoned, but his instincts screamed otherwise.

A faint shuffle echoed down the hall. Someone was here.

Elias drew his gun and pressed forward. The deeper he went, the more the facility seemed to close in around him. Peeling wallpaper, rusted gurneys, and the distant sound of dripping water set the stage for something sinister.

Then he heard it—a voice, barely above a whisper.

"Help... me..."

Elias froze. The sound came from behind a heavy metal door at the end of the corridor. He moved closer, his pulse steady despite the tension coiling in his chest.

He reached for the handle. Locked.

A sudden bang from the other side made him step back, gun raised.

"Mercer..." The voice was clearer now. Familiar.

Elias's grip tightened. Adrian Holt was alive.

But he wasn't alone.