I have got to get out of here.
Still carrying me like I weighed nothing, Cain kicked off his boots and left them by the door. He wore dark blue socks with red at the tips. I noted that and assessed his color selection.
Were those the colors of a sick murderer? Was his taking off shoes a good sign? Did attention to cleanliness make him less of a psycho or more of one?
A dog barked.
I twisted but didn’t see anything.
Cain spoke, “Hey buddy.”
What type of dog is this? Maybe, it will help me or something.
Next, the furry creature appeared by me, jumping my way and lapping at my face. It was a shaggy giant. I guessed it was a Saint Bernard. He had to weigh over a hundred pounds.
Cain growled, “Get down, Noah.”
Noah ignored him and lathered my face with sloppy wet licks.
Awwww.
I welcomed the love. Maybe, if I was cool with Noah, the dog could help me get out of here. I couldn’t think of how, but I would try everything.
“Down, boy.” Seconds later, Cain flipped me over like a ragdoll and planted me on a brown leather couch.
I shook the dizziness out of my head.
Noah jumped next to me, taking up the whole space and snuggling against my leg.
“Off the couch.” Cain glared at him.
Noah whimpered.
“We discussed this.” Cain kept the hard gaze.
Noah wagged his tail and leapt off the couch.
“Good boy.” Cain headed away.
Noah happily trotted after him.
But why are we in a chapel though?
I scanned the massive space.
Moonlight poured through the large stained glass windows. I bet during the day, the space sparkled in a rainbow glow.
Cain went back to the metal door that we’d come through and flipped the switch on. “Are you hungry, buddy?”
Light illuminated the space.
Okay. This is a house.
I widened my eyes in shock.
Someone had gutted out the chapel and converted it into a modern home.
Why do that to a chapel?
It had an open-plan ground floor layout. Carpet only covered the path from the door and the space designated as the living room. In other areas, there was rich, dark wood flooring.
Heading back my way, Cain grabbed a tiny remote from the tree log coffee table in front of me and pressed a button.
Classical music filled the space.
O-kay.
The relaxing music was a shocking contrast to the satanic heavy metal songs blasting in the truck.
Maybe, this is a sign that he’s a chill guy. All of that choking and threats could have been an act.
A soft piano delicately played. Then, a light horn did a melody that made me think of a butterfly dancing around in a garden.
My body calmed from the soothing notes.
A man’s voice came on next—strong, yet gripped with sadness. His words sounded French or Italian. I wasn’t sure. I just knew it wasn’t English.
Cain likes opera?
The piano maintained the soft notes, while the horn mimicked the singer’s words. If I wasn’t worried about being raped or killed, I might have asked the name of the song.
Where can I escape?
I took in more of the space.
The living room stood where the chapel’s congregation would have sat in their pews. The walls were either bright white or gray stones. The furniture was leather or wood. If it wasn’t brown or gray, then it was white.
Wildlife artwork hung on the walls—images of deer leaping through the woods and rabbits nibbling herbs. The ceiling soared over twenty feet and held dark wooden beams.
A chandelier made of antlers dangled in the center.
O-kay. This is like. . .camper religious décor?
On the other side of the couch, there was a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace complete with a chunky wooden mantel. A non-cluttered bookcase stood next to it.
He reads books. He can’t be that psychotic. Or does that make him even crazier?
The singer’s notes rose higher, outshining the orchestra. It was hard not to forget my mission of escape and drown in the relaxing music.
The door is hard metal and needed a code. Is there another way out of this place?
To my right, I spotted a master bedroom where the church’s pulpit, altar, and choir would have been. A small step led up to that space, resembling where people probably prayed on their knees long ago.
Such an odd way to live.
A large king size bed stood in the center of this altar bedroom.
A stone wall was behind it.
This is bugged out.
A large holy cross had been cut out in the center of the stone wall. The cross ran ten feet long and five feet wide. Black stained glass filled it. Or perhaps, the designer had tinted the stained glass there. Still, moonlight filtered through the window and projected a shadowed cross onto the bed.
He sleeps with a moonlit cross glowing on him? Maybe he thinks he’s God.
The song stopped.
For some reason, I waited patiently for the next one to play, hoping I could learn more about him. Any detail could be the source of my escape.