Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,46
and halted. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I bellowed. Four passages splintered off in all directions; the singular hallway I had just come down already shifted. Nothing stood out, each identical.
“Choose one, Dinah.” Hoping I picked right, I went down the third tunnel. The ground started sloping, the sconces dimming. I flipped around to choose another one, my face slamming into a wall—my path was blocked.
“Ow!” Anger bristled up my spine as I rubbed my nose, twisting back around, the same passage still ahead of me, leaving me only one way to go. Something told me I was being led; I would be herded to the same spot no matter which way I picked.
I stared down the shadowy hallway, something in my gut contracting, making me feel like I was on a roller coaster. Dark. Foreboding.
As I traveled through the corridor, more anxiety stabbed me like needles in my skin, my throat struggling to swallow. I couldn’t describe what scared me. The hall looked the same as the others, but my gut still sank, submerging into murky fear. It also felt oddly familiar, as if somewhere in me I knew what was down there but had no clear memory of it.
Glancing back, I saw the wall was still blocked, so I forced my feet to keep moving. Up ahead I saw a doorway, stairs leading down.
No. Stop. A voice in my head peeled at my nerves, slamming dread into my veins. Don’t go down there.
I stopped, my skin flushing with cold, the sensation flicking a sense of déjà vu, as though I had been here before.
If I have, how come I don’t remember?
Terror and curiosity battled for control over my legs. Taking a step closer, I knew which won. The need to know. To figure out the missing puzzle piece. I certainly would be killed off first in a horror movie. Shaking, I stepped up to the threshold. Wind blew up from the depth, sounding like a growl and shrieks. My pulse pounded in my ears. I leaned into the doorway. The air played with my hearing, and murmuring voices hummed under the gust. I knew some wind did whine and whisper to you here, but this sounded different.
Like children.
Tilting my head, I tried to pick up on one voice when a loud giggle came from behind me. With a cry, I flung around, facing the tunnel, my heart feeling like it would burst from fright, my body crouching, ready to defend myself from the intruder.
Except the intruder was me—a seven-year-old version of me.
“Roasted chestnuts,” I croaked, watching three young kids coming down the hallway. Blaze and the girl were far ahead of Frost with their arms linked, scurrying down the path.
“Guys, don’t do this!” Frost bellowed, trying to catch up. “Mom and Auntie said not to go down there.”
“Santa’s elf, you are such a goody-goody. Bet you’re on top of Santa’s brownnoser list. You better not tattle on us.” Blaze groaned, pulling the girl tighter to his side, speaking to her. “Can’t believe he’s my twin. He’s so lame and boring. Right?” My eyes shot to the girl, her eyes looking away from Blaze, her teeth scraping her bottom lip, her expression suggesting it was the last thing she’d call Frost. “Right, Dinah?”
“Oh, right.” The girl nodded, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Totally lame.”
“That’s why you’re my best friend. You’re fun.”
The girl blushed at his compliment, getting all awkward.
“Guys, I’m serious,” Frost called out stronger, frustration creasing his forehead. “They said it was really dangerous.”
“They always say that,” Blaze responded.
“Mine do too,” the girl said to Blaze. “If they knew I was here? My mother would flip out.”
“That’s what makes it so fun, huh?” Blaze let go of the girl’s arm, turning to her. “I triple-reindeer dare you to look at it first.”
“Ohhhh, you’re not fair,” she blurted, stomping her foot.
“Too bad. I dared you first.” Blaze nudged her. “You gonna wimp out?”
“No.” The girl’s chin went up defiantly. “I’m not gonna wimp out.”
“Good!” Blaze grabbed her hand, yanking her toward the stairs, zipping right past me. “Come on!”
“No! Blaze! Dinah!” Frost raced after them, their feet pounding the concrete surface. “Don’t!”
I couldn’t budge, hearing their shouts and calls to each other. I tried to move, but it was like a force field kept me back, not letting me follow them. The more I pushed, the more everything blurred around me. Spinning, nausea bloomed up my esophagus. Darkness crept into my vision, and my legs bowed.