“Layla?!” Thomas whispered in disbelief. "NO! Let me go!" Layla screamed, her voice echoing down the hospital hallway. Detective Phoebe, standing a few feet away, watched as Layla's eyes met theirs. In that moment, Layla's face twisted in a mix of fear and realization—she knew she was caught. Summoning every ounce of strength, she broke free from the nurses' grasp and bolted down the corridor, tears streaming down her face.
“There she is!” Detective Phoebe shouted, immediately giving chase. Thomas stood frozen for a moment, watching the chaos unfold before his eyes. His gaze flickered to Emily's room, where the flatline on her monitor confirmed the worst. “Poor Mrs. Carter…” he whispered, feeling a pang of sorrow. But there was no time to dwell on it. Thomas snapped back to the present and sprinted after Layla and Detective Phoebe. He darted through the hospital hallways, weaving past stretchers, nurses, and bewildered patients in wheelchairs. Ahead, he saw Layla barreling towards the exit, despair driving her every step. “Somebody, stop that girl!” Detective Phoebe's voice range out, urgent and commanding. A guard near the exit door made a feeble attempt to catch Layla, but she was too quick. She flung open the door and burst outside, Detective Phoebe hot on her heels. Thomas himself pushed harder, just managing to slip through the closing door and out into the darkening day.
The sky above was a foreboding shade of gray, clouds roiling with the promise of a storm. In the distance, Thomas could see Detective Phoebe chasing Layla down the street. He sprinted after them, his lungs burning, determination fueling his every stride. “Layla, please!” Detective Phoebe's plea was filled with despair. Layla's sobs echoed faintly, a haunting sound amidst the chaos.
Thomas chased them through a narrow alleyway, the walls pressing in on either side, forcing them to navigate the tight space with agility. Beyond the alley, the wilderness loomed, trees stretching tall and imposing. Without hesitation, Layla plunged into the forest, her figure quickly swallowed by the dense foliage. Detective Phoebe followed, and Thomas, driven by a mix of duty and despair, ventured into the woods after them. The forest was a labyrinth of shadows and shifting light, branches clawing at his clothes as he pushed through. Layla's figure flickered in and out of sight, darting between the trees. Thomas's breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest. Every muscle in his body screamed for relief, but he couldn't afford to stop. He had to catch her. “Layla, stop!” he yelled, his voice cracking with the effort.
But Layla didn’t slow down. She was a blur of movement, her sobs and panting breaths the only sounds guiding him through the forest. Thomas dodged low-hanging branches, leapt over fallen logs, and ignored the sting of twigs scratching his skin. His focus was solely on Layla, the need to catch her overriding all else. The chase seemed endless, the forest stretching out before them like a never-ending maze. But Thomas didn’t waver. He pushed through the pain, through the fatigue, driven by the determination to find the truth and bring Layla back. The trees rushed past in a blur, and with every step, he closed the distance between them.
“Layla, wait!” Thomas shouted, his voice echoing through the dense forest. Fear clawed at him; he knew that the deeper they ventured, the greater the risk of losing their way entirely. He came to a halt, his eyes darting through the thickening shadows. Detective Phoebe appeared behind him, panting. “Where did Layla go?” she asked, her voice edged with urgency. “Over there!” Thomas pointed toward a fleeting silhouette in the distance. Together, they plunged deeper into the woods. The sunlight dwindled with each step, replaced by the oppressive gloom of towering trees. The forest felt alive, its ancient presence closing in around them.
“We lost track of her,” Detective Phoebe gasped, glancing around anxiously. “What should we do now, Detective?” “Let’s part ways,” she decided. “Look around for her. She might be here somewhere; I’m sure she won’t get far.” Thomas nodded and veered left, his eyes scanning every shadow. The forest seemed to stretch endlessly, the trees’ heights disappearing into the darkening sky. Suddenly, a loud, heavy groan pierced the silence. The groan morphed into a scream, so deafening that birds erupted from the treetops in panic.
The scream was raw with agony and suspense, a visceral expression of Layla’s guilt and suffering. Thomas’s worry deepened as he turned his head frantically, searching for any sign of her. Then, just as abruptly as it started, the scream ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. A laugh shattered the quiet. It was not a normal laugh, but a chilling, maniacal cackle that sent shivers down Thomas’s spine. “Layla!” he called out, his voice laced with desperation. The sinister laughter echoed through the woods, a mockery of their search.
MWAHAHA!!
Thomas’s heart pounded. Layla was losing her grip on reality. “This isn’t funny! Show yourself, please! I’m here to listen!” he pleaded. The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by an unnerving silence. Thomas’s sense of foreboding deepened. “Hello?!”
...
GAHH!! The scream sounded like Detective Phoebe, coming from his left. “Detective?!” Thomas yelled, sprinting toward the source of the sound. Panic fueled his steps as he navigated through the dense underbrush. “Detective, where are you?!” He burst into a small clearing, his eyes scanning wildly for any sign of her. There was no one there, but then he noticed something at the corner of his eye. His heart sank.
“Oh no...”
Detective Phoebe lay face down on the grass, motionless. “Detective!” Thomas cried, dropping to his knees beside her. He gently turned her over, his hands trembling. Her face was pale, eyes closed, but there was still a faint pulse. “Hang in there,” he whispered, fighting back tears. He had to find Layla, but he couldn’t leave Phoebe alone and vulnerable. Torn between his duty and his friend, Thomas felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. “Help! Somebody, help!” he shouted into the forest, hoping against hope that someone would hear. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” he whispered desperately, but there was no response. Her breathing was shallow, but she was alive. He looked around, realizing with a sinking feeling that they were lost in the vast, indistinguishable expanse of the forest. Tears welled up in his eyes as he grasped the gravity of the situation.
In the distance, a shadowy figure emerged—Layla, moving with purpose as if she knew where she was going. The skies were darkening, and the imminent rain added to the tension. Thomas glanced back at Detective Phoebe, then at Layla’s silhouette, torn between staying with the injured detective or pursuing Layla deeper into the woods. He rummaged through Phoebe’s pockets, finding a gun and a walkie-talkie. Not knowing how to use the gun, he left it behind. The walkie-talkie offered a lifeline; if Phoebe woke up, she could call for help. But if he took it, she’d be stranded without any means of communication. Sighing, he placed it back in her pocket.
“I’m sorry, Detective. I have to find out where she is going,” he murmured, making the tough decision to follow Layla. With determination, Thomas stood up and started running towards Layla, who was gradually disappearing into the forest. He moved cautiously, ensuring he wasn’t noticed, as Layla’s soft sobs echoed through the trees. He felt a pang of empathy for her, despite everything. “I wonder where she is going?” he thought, following her through the seemingly endless maze of trees. As they continued, an old, wooden shack came into view. It was small, mysterious, and eerily out of place in the middle of the forest.
“There it is,” Layla whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.
Thomas slowed down, maintaining a safe distance. The shack looked abandoned, with its wooden planks rotting and the roof partially caved in. Layla approached the shack cautiously, her movements tense and deliberate. Thomas crouched behind a nearby tree, watching as Layla reached for the door. He watched in horrified silence as Layla entered the shack and began rummaging through its dimly lit interior. He crept closer, careful not to make a sound, and peered through an open window. What he saw inside the shack made his heart drop.
Beatrice Williams, the person he had been desperately searching for, was lying unconscious on the floor. Her once vibrant appearance was now a ghostly shell; her skin was pallid, and her bones seemed to protrude unnaturally. Her hands were bound with rope to a table, and her mouth was covered with black tape. Bruises marred her body, a testament to the cruelty she had endured.
Thomas’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Is this what I’m seeing...?!” he whispered to himself, his voice shaking. He wanted to rush inside, to free Beatrice from her torment, but he knew that doing so might jeopardize his chance of saving her. Layla was still in the room, and Thomas feared that any sudden movement could alert her to his presence. Layla placed the keys she had used to unlock the door onto the table beside Beatrice. With a deep breath, she picked up a kitchen knife, its blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. Her expression was a mix of sorrow and resolve. Thomas strained to hear Layla’s soft, broken voice as she spoke to the unconscious Beatrice.
“I’m tired of this place,” Layla said, her fingers trailing over the sharp edge of the knife. Her voice was hollow, filled with a deep, aching sorrow. “I went there, y’know? To the hospital...” She paused, her eyes glazing over with the memory. “I visited her. Third floor, the door on the corner of the room to the left... and as I opened the door, she was there. Looking...” Layla’s voice cracked, and her tears began to flow freely. “Worse. Paler. Sicker. Thinner than before, and when I stepped in... She opened her eyes. She saw me... and I saw her.”
Thomas felt a pang of sympathy for Layla, despite her horrifying actions. He saw her as she relived the moment, her sorrow palpable. Layla’s hands trembled as she continued. “I said, ’Mom!’” she choked out, her voice breaking. “I laughed, but it turned into sobs... I dashed towards her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. I cried right there... Then she wrapped her arms back at me. I always loved that feeling, Beatrice. Tears streamed from my eyes, down to my cheek. I loved every second.” Her voice fell to a whisper, her grief overwhelming. “Until... she stopped breathing. For a second, I looked into her eyes. She wasn’t there anymore. It felt like she wasn’t there... Crying out loud, I stormed out of the room and screamed for help to the nearby nurses.”
Layla’s hands shook violently now, her sobs echoing in the confined space of the shack. “There deep inside... I had a feeling she couldn’t be saved in time. It’s like my whole world stopped—ruined. I wanted to leave. It’s like I wanted to go up there in the skies along with my mom.”
The knife trembled in her hand as she spoke, the metal reflecting the flickering light. Thomas could see that Layla was on the brink of breaking down completely. Her anger and despair had driven her to this point, and she seemed lost in her anguish. “I looked to my right. They’re there—that... detective—Thomas. I couldn’t do anything but run away. The funny thing is, I hit her head with a rock.” Giggles erupted from Layla’s mouth, her laughter echoing eerily in the confined space. “It’s crazy. Now that the police know where we are... and Paul’s caught—let’s get far, far away from this town. I don’t want to live being chased by the police. I don’t want to live in the town where my mom died. I don’t want to live... seeing my mom dying, and it’s because of me.” Layla took a deep sigh.
Suddenly, her eyes shifted, her expression hardening. “But before all this... I had to do something. To get to you.” She took a deep breath, her voice becoming steadier. “I still couldn’t believe that I actually manipulated Butler Eric. I told him I was worried about you, that you were acting erratically. Talking to yourself.” Layla laughed manically. “I made it seem like you were in danger, and Eric, being a foolish person he truly is, believed me. I needed him to trust me so I could get close to you. I knew he would do anything to protect you if he thought you were in danger.”
Thomas was taken aback by the revelation, realizing the lengths Layla had gone to in her desperation and grief. The pieces of her twisted plan began to fall into place, and he could see just how deeply her pain had driven her actions.
“You know what? We should go to the sea. We’ll go out in the water, dive in, ropes tied to our wrists, with pockets full of stones, far, far away, deep. Since you’re with me now, you’re coming along. I’ll throw you first in the water before I throw my body after. We’ll be separated, but I’ll remain nearby, and I think Whiteshore is the perfect setting, don’t you think? Nice beach, far from the city...” A manic giggle echoed throughout the room, Layla’s eyes wild with a disturbing mix of determination and madness. “We should get going now.”
Layla plunged her knife onto the ropes binding Beatrice, the sharp blade sawing through the fibers. As the ropes began to fray and snap, Thomas’s mind raced. “Beatrice was locked up here in the shack the entire time... so that’s why both her and Layla were absent at the basement when we arrived,” he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched with a mix of horror and helplessness as Layla continued cutting the ropes off of Beatrice’s wrists.
“When Paul got caught by the police, Layla must’ve known that Paul would tell Detective Phoebe everything about Beatrice’s whereabouts, including hers. Therefore, she placed themselves in a shack in the middle of the woods, where no one else can find them...” Thomas silently pieced together in his mind.
Thomas watched in stunned silence as the ropes around Beatrice’s wrists finally gave way and fell to the ground. Beatrice, weak and disoriented, plummeted down, her body hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. The heartless Layla showed no sign of remorse. She grabbed Beatrice’s limp body and lifted her up, her strength fueled by desperation and madness. She dragged Beatrice toward the door of the shack, her intentions clear and terrifying.
“We’re going to the sea, Beatrice,” Layla muttered, almost to herself. “Far, far away from here. You and me, together in the depths.” Thomas knew he had to act, but his mind was a whirlpool of fear and uncertainty. Every second counted as he watched Layla, the knife still in her hand, drag Beatrice toward an uncertain and deadly fate.
The rain intensified, soaking through Thomas’s clothes, but he barely felt it. His focus was entirely on Layla and Beatrice, his thoughts racing. He had to save Beatrice. He had to stop Layla. But how? The weight of the moment pressed down on him, and he knew that whatever he did next would determine their fates.
Scared to get caught, Thomas lowered his head, hiding within the bushes as he witnessed Layla carrying Beatrice toward an orange-colored car nearby. Despite the burden of Beatrice in her arms, Layla managed to reach out and grab the car door handle, shoving the poor girl inside. Thomas strained to hear as Layla whispered something to Beatrice, but the words were inaudible. He watched as Layla set her hands free from Beatrice and walked around the car toward the driver’s seat. Just before she touched the car door, she suddenly patted her pockets as if something was missing. In a rush, she hurried back inside the shack, opening and shutting the door behind her.
Thomas began to breathe heavily. In that moment, he realized he was out of his depth. He didn’t know where to go or what to do next. Detective Phoebe was unconscious, lying in the middle of the woods. Officer Walter and Officer Chris were searching for Beatrice and Layla back in town. Thomas was stuck by the shack, finally knowing Beatrice and Layla’s whereabouts and Layla’s next moves.
Thomas desperately wanted to see Beatrice up close, to hold her, to confirm she was real. He had no weapons with him and considered sneaking into the shack to grab one, but he knew it was risky. Judging by Layla’s earlier behavior with the kitchen knife, he would likely get hurt. Desperately, Thomas slowly crawled inside the orange car, trying to find a way to stop it from moving.
He was lucky the shack door was closed, and Layla couldn’t see him through the open window. Thomas searched frantically for any sharp objects to puncture the tires, but only found stones, which he knew wouldn’t work. The nails in the wooden planks of the shack were too strong to remove, and it would take too long, risking Layla catching him.
“What should I do...?!” he whispered, glancing at the unconscious Beatrice. He looked at her, bruises and wounds covering her body. Thomas held her hand, tears welling up in his eyes. “I really can’t believe this is you... Finally, I get to see you again,” he cried softly.
Thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to figure out how to get them out of there. He looked at the windshield and saw a dirt path leading somewhere else. Thomas searched the car desperately for the keys, determined to drive Beatrice out of danger despite his inexperience. But he couldn’t find them. Running out of time, he tried to lift Beatrice out of the car, but just as he was about to, he saw Layla stepping out of the shack, sprinting back to the vehicle.
With no choice but to put Beatrice back where she was, Thomas carefully and quickly retreated, knowing that attempting to carry Beatrice out with so little time would only make things worse. With great dread, he crawled away from the car, slowly and carefully. His eyes remained locked on Beatrice, fearing this might be his last sighting of her before she disappeared once again. He didn’t want to let that happen.
Layla emerged holding a Halloween mask in her left hand and a long piece of cloth with the car keys in her right. Thomas successfully hid behind a bush, contemplating his next move. Layla opened the car door and began wrapping the cloth around Beatrice’s head, forming a blindfold. Thomas guessed this was to disguise her from passersby. After knotting the cloth, Layla put on the Halloween mask herself.
Thomas glanced to his left, seeing the dirt path that might lead somewhere. He wondered where it would take him, but he had no time to ponder. He knew the car was faster than him, but he had to act. Without hesitation, Thomas tiptoed away from the bushes and into the forest, avoiding Layla’s line of sight. He scurried through the forest, making as little noise as possible, determined to find help and save Beatrice.
Thomas saw a road at the end of the path, and for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope. He ran as fast as he could without being seen until he burst out onto the road. “Where am I?” he wondered aloud, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He scanned his surroundings, desperately trying to orient himself. Then, recognition hit him. “Road 30?!”
To his left, he spotted a familiar-looking car at a nearby gas station. His heart pounded with a mix of desperation and relief as he dashed towards it, recognizing the silhouetted driver. It was Officer Chris, waiting for his gas tank to fill. “Officer!” Thomas called out, his voice cracking with urgency.
Officer Chris turned toward him, eyes widening in surprise. "Thomas, what are you doing here? Where in the world have you been all day with Detective Phoebe?" Thomas kept running but stopped abruptly when he heard the rumble of an approaching car. He looked back just in time to see the white car emerge from the dirt path and onto Road 30, turning left. “Thomas!” Officer Chris shouted again.
"Now's not the time! Follow that car, now!" Thomas screamed, pointing at the white car. Officer Chris reacted immediately, slamming the gas pedal. “Who's in there?!” Officer Chris demanded as the car sped away.
“Beatrice!!” Thomas shouted, his voice breaking with emotion.
"What?! Then who's the driver?!" “It was Layla—it was Layla!”
Layla, in her Halloween mask, glanced back and saw them, her eyes narrowing. The white car accelerated to full speed, the sirens blaring and lights flashing in a kaleidoscope of blue and red. The engines roared as both cars sped through the rain-soaked streets, tires screeching against the wet pavement. Layla's car swerved dangerously, dodging through traffic. Each passing vehicle was a new obstacle, and Officer Chris maneuvered with skill, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.
Thunder roared above, the sky a torrent of rain and darkness. “Who is driving that damn car?!” Officer Chris shouted over the noise. “It's Layla—hiding her face under a mask!” Thomas replied, his voice filled with dread. Thomas looked ahead, seeing the white car heading toward the Crystal River Bridge. His heart sank.
“Where is she going?!”
The rain pounded harder, making visibility nearly impossible. Both cars raced toward the bridge, but as the white car hit the bridge, everything changed.
SCREECH!
The white car was seen off-road, crashing through the guardrail. Thomas saw the flash of blonde hair in the back seat—Beatrice, unconscious and helpless. The guardrail shattered, and the car teetered on the edge before plummeting down.
"NO!" Officer Chris screamed, his voice raw with fear. The car soared towards the river below, the dark waters churning violently. Officer Chris hit the brakes hard, bringing their car to a skidding halt at the edge.
The white car tumbled off the bridge, hitting the water with a tremendous splash. The force of the impact sent waves crashing upwards, and for a moment, the car floated.
...
Then it began to sink, pulled under by the relentless current. The car drifted further from the bridge, disappearing into the depths. Thomas threw himself out of the police car, collapsing to his knees on the wet pavement. He screamed, a sound filled with all the pain and fear he had been holding back.
“NOOOOOO!!!!”
ns216.73.216.251da2
