The Hellhound

Insider Information

My footsteps thudded heavily against the floors, chest tight and lungs burning as I ran. A hand was gripped in mine. Warm and sweaty. I knew I couldn't hold her much longer.

Still we ran, and still I pulled her along behind me.

There was no light aside from the occasional flash of red. I could smell smoke from somewhere. Hear screaming. Hands reached out for me as I ran down the hallway that only grew longer and longer as I ran. Nails raked against my skin. Something caught my foot and I stumbled.

Another flash of light was accompanied by the blare of a siren. The ground under my feet was uneven now. Definitely no longer in the bunker. The smoke was growing thicker and the air was hotter.

Her hand was slipping through mine before I could do anything to stop it.

"Rowan!"

I whirled around, but she was already too far behind. Two men towered on either side of her. Faceless, aside from the golden emblem on their uniforms. Soldiers. The guns aimed at Sage were unwavering as I threw myself forward. But I couldn't get to her. She was too far away. Something cold and hard tightened around my wrists, hauling me backwards. I hit the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Above me, a burning orange sky stared down at the scene and in the distance, a blazing city became our backdrop. Though the burning city of New York was familiar, the surroundings were not. Dust and dirt sprawled for miles and a scorching sun remained high in the sky.

When I lifted my head again, the two men were gone and all that remained was a pile of charred and mangled corpses, blackened beyond any recognition. Smoke curled up into the air and from a haunting cackle sounded from somewhere behind me. I couldn't turn to look at who it was; the metal around my wrists only tightened and hauled me further back each time I moved.

But then the figure emerged from behind me, hands clasped tightly behind her back and holding herself as though this were a joyous occasion altogether. "My dear Miss Vanderwaal," Meredith Blackthorn all but purred.

She rounded the pile of corpses which had now begun to move. They were slow and jerking movements, all of which the Commander Sergeant seemed to remain unaware of.

"Didn't I warn you that there was a spy in our midst? Such a shame, really." The woman came to a halt behind the pile of writhing corpses, cold eyes staring down at me from a distance. "Maybe if you had been a little smarter, you could have prevented this."

The pressure around my wrists had disappeared in an instant and I threw myself forward, clambering across the wasteland. Each desperate step only put them further and further away, high up on a hill of sand. I couldn't get there, but there was screaming in the air. Begging. Pleading. Sage. I had to get there and I couldn't.

By the time I'd nearly reached the top, a hand had appeared over the edge. Charred fingers reached out to me, blackened and cracked at the joints, but I couldn't stop myself from reaching up regardless. The moment her fingers curled around my wrist, her voice met my ears as a hiss. "Save me," the voice cried. "Why aren't you helping? Why did you let this happen?"

The fingers crumbled, disintegrating under my grip and before I could grab onto anything else, I was being thrown back down that hill of sand. The scorching grains had swallowed me whole before I even hit the bottom.

I shot up in bed with my heart pounding and sweat clinging to my skin. The sight of those corpses still remained in my mind, as though I hadn't actually managed to wake up. Their blackened fingers and unhinged jaws... I didn't remember if I'd dreamt beyond being swallowed by sand, but the nausea that still choked me had told me that it didn't matter.