Chapter 17 | I'm not alone

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C H A P T E R 17
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   My arms shock as my bat collided with the thick metal door

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My arms shock as my bat collided with the thick metal door. We all grunted and groaned, trying our best to do as Ella said: Break the door down.

   It was excruciatingly difficult, but to our surprise, we eventually did it. The door was so dented that it's rims just let out and the rectangle frame popped right off.

   "Wait" I paused, "Where's Ben?"

I looked around at the ground for answers. They all avoided eye contact, scratching their necks and biting their nails. By their unwillingness to reply, I knew something was wrong. Something must have happened when I was knocked out– something bad.

  "What about Thomas?" I asked weakly, breaking the unbearable silence.

Still, again, no one answered. My eyes wandered around the group before I clicked with Mike, who seemed uncomfortable and melancholic.

  "He – um..." Mike stuttered. I felt like I saw his heart breaking, cracking in front of my own eyes. That hurt.

  "He died." Ella said sternly. "The truth hurts sometimes. And the truth is that he's dead."

   "What–" I gasped. My eyes began to instantly water up. My neck felt like it had been wilted with barbed water as I attempted not to cry. There was no way he was gone, it was impossible.

  "And Thomas... Thomas ran away." Ella said as one at a time each of us went into the room with caution.

  "But where did Ben go?" I asked, my voice cracking, "you guys didn't just...leave him, right?"

  "Thomas took him, but he was dead. We saw it." Mike said.

  "You saw it, but did you make sure? Did he have a pulse?"

   Mike paused, looking at Ella for answers.

"He's dead, Amy. Sorry." She shrugged.

   My feet patted against the thick, moist water as I finally walked into the undefined room. l

The walls were full of wet leaves and plants that were deprived of sunlight. There were multiple white scratches against the walls along with a horrible stench.

  There wasn't anything else in the area, though. Except for one momentous object in the centre.
    A jack-in-the-box. It was rusted, colourless and shady. It didn't move nor talk, but it screamed "touch me," which was probably the last thing we should have probably done.

  "What do we do?" Eddie said.

Ella casually walked towards the box, everyone hesitatingly following behind her.

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