It's been 5 years since the traumatic experience which permanently changed Ashley Graham's life. Even though she tries to put it all behind herself, she knows she can never go back to being the girl she was before the kidnapping. Therefore, instead...
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I pushed open the heavy doors to the Grand Hall, making sure Ashley slipped inside first. As I was about to close them, one of Salazar's mutts lunged—its grotesque drooling jaws inches from the frame.
There was no time to slam them shut. I raised my shotgun and spent my last shell, the gun vibrating with a recoil as the blast threw the mutt back onto the stone steps outside. I saw its carcass move, figuring out the bullet wasn't enough to kill the son of a bitch.
No time. I slammed the door shut and bolted it, hearing the thing scratch and snarl from the other side.
After a few seconds, the scratching faded, leaving an echo of my breath and Ashley's footsteps behind me.
"You good?" I asked, glancing over at her, as she slumped near one of the massive pillars.
Her eyes flicked to me, wide and shaken. "That. Was. Too close."
I let out a breath, easing the shotgun down.
"Too close to becoming dog food," I muttered, taking a spot next to her.
The corner of her mouth twitched into a shaky chuckle as she shook her head. "Are we safe...for now?"
I scanned the hall we had entered, noting the sudden shift from chaos to eerie stillness. The Grand Hall stretched before us—the opulent chandeliers casting fractured light onto polished marble floor. Statues flanked the walls, looming like silent judges, their stone eyes as heavy and hollow as the silence pressing around us.
"Take a moment," I said, offering her my water bottle. I could see the tension in her shoulder, the way she hugged herself without realizing it. "If there were more of them, they'd already be chewing on us."
She let out another disbelieving laugh, but I saw the way her breathing eased, just a little.
While she collected herself, I ran through my gear: shotgun—dry. Knife—barely holding together. And the cash in my pocket? Not even close to the upgrades I needed. Ammo and repairs were the priority, but there was no way I'd afford both.
In short, things weren't looking good.
Luckily, the merchant's room wasn't far—the purple fire flickering in the goblet marked the entrance ahead.
We moved towards it, Ashley trailing beside me, brushing dust from her blazer. Her voice finally broke the silence. "Is it always like this for you?"
I glanced at her. "Like what? Running from mutated pets in old-fashioned castles?"
Ashley gave me a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. "I mean the...almost dying part."
