It was dressed in ragged clothes that were stained a muddied brown color I assumed was meant to be old blood. Wrapped around his or her neck was a white sign that covered the chest. On it another riddle to be deciphered written in streaks of red.
Release what’s kept hidden inside.
The choice is yours.
Live or die?
“Sorry ya’ll, I honestly got nothing for this one,” Dion confessed.
Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary this time around. There was a slight chance I was becoming increasingly paranoid or delusional, but I believed all of this was meant to be personal. Specific to me and the girls. Maybe even Dion too and he didn’t know it yet.
I reached out and touched the skeleton. There were chunks of rubbery-like flesh still on some of the bones.
The body lacked a stench of decay and there weren’t any bugs swarming to feast or nest. That’s what made me think it wasn’t real.
“Feels like rubber,” I noted, tracing over some of the flaps.
Could something like this be preserved? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know that answer. I stepped away and joined Mel in front of the map with Dion.
“There’s more names crossed off,” he commented.
“Sarah was the girl tied up beside me. I heard someone mention her name. Who are all these other people, though?” Mel asked.
“Well, we know one of them was the woman we saw back in the building. Morrigan is his girlfriend. I don’t know about the rest. I haven’t seen anyone else.”
“But there’s other people in here going through the same thing we are?” she speculated.
“I guess?”
My reply came out as more of a question.
There were other people here, yes, but I wasn’t sure it was necessarily because of us or in any way related. The Sarah chick being killed off so nonchalantly didn’t fit Mel’s theory. None of us had truly interacted with her. Focusing back on the map, I pointed out our next destination.
“The place we need to go is super close. Look at the trail.”
“Man, they’re really into this devil shit, huh?” Dion murmured.
Mel turned and stared down the road. “According to this thing we’re a block or less away from there.”
Staring in the same direction, I didn’t see anything that resembled what we should be looking for. I glanced from the map to the street and then back again.
“We’re much closer than that,” Dion concluded, stepping out into the road. His eyes slightly narrowed, and he studied each of the opposite buildings carefully.
“It’s over there.”
I peered in the direction he was pointing. “How do you know that?”
“Look at those windows compared to the rest. We can see inside them. That one is purely reflecting the street.”
Once more, I found myself appreciating his presence while still being suspicious of him. It took me a second longer than Mel to see what he was referring to. When I did, I sought out the entrance to the storefront he’d singled out and realized I couldn’t see it clearly from where I was standing.
“We need to get closer.”
Without waiting for either of them to reply I walked across the street and cautiously approached the building.
When only my reflection was staring back at me in panes of shiny black glass, I subconsciously dampened my lips.
“Is this the place?” Mel asked as she came up behind me.
“Has to be.” I gestured to the double doors sitting back out of view.
A small white plaque with Devil’s Inn scrawled across it was hanging above them.
“This isn’t what I was expecting,” Mel said.
“You had expectations?”
“Not really, but the other signs were flashy and big. It’s like this one was purposely hidden.”
“How is this an inn?” Dion questioned as he joined us.
“Only one way to find out, right?”
“I’ll go first,” Mel volunteered.
I held my arm out and gently pushed back against her chest. “I’ll go first. You were just tied to a chair.”
“So that means be a pussy and sacrifice my best friend?”
I rolled my eyes and surged ahead before she could think to stop me. I didn’t like not being able to see inside this place. It gave two-way mirror vibes. If something—someone--was waiting on the other side, I would be the first to know. Grasping the solid door handle, I took a deep breath and pulled, triggering an overhead bell.
Nothing dramatic happened.
There was no masked killer waiting to take me out or ominous riddle from an overhead speaker. I entered the inn, holding the door so Mel and Dion could follow.
The sweet, fragrant lemonade scent that filled my lungs reminded me of pine-sol. Golden sconces adorned burgundy damasked walls, going all the way down a long hall. They were each dimmed, but bountiful enough that the inside of the inn was well lit.
The door audibly clinked as it locked behind us. At this point that was more expected than surprising.