He started spinning, grabbing at my body to dislodge me. This man was freakishly strong. I had a good grip on him, but my muscles weren’t here for the exertion.

  Angry, unintelligible babble erupted from his mouth. Without warning, he turned twice more and then dramatically dropped to the floor, performing some screwed up rendition of a death drop.

  My back hit the ground, pain reverberated up and down my spine, radiating through my skull to the point my ears rang. It was a small mercy the man didn’t crush me with his body entirely.

  That was the only slight reprieve he gave me. I just barely lifted my head when he turned over and grabbed for me. I kicked and managed to strike him in the gut. He grunted, coming back at me with a growl.

  Adrenaline was a balm to my pain. I scrambled backward, making it to my feet just in time for his giant hand to shove me so hard I slammed into the wall.

  “Fuck,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

  Something else unintelligible came from the man’s mouth as he charged at me again.

  Dion and Mel shouted from behind him.

  Dion trying to get his girlfriend to wake up. Mel cursing at me and the man stalking my way.

  Dropping my shoulder down, I pushed myself off the wall and met him head on. I put all my weight into the shoulder check. The man went down, and I did the same, straddling his wide chest.

  “Scalpel!” I yelled at Mel, spotting it on the floor near the chair.

  The slight distraction allowed this big man to openly swing at me. I back peddled to avoid a hit to my face, tripping over my own two feet. Just that fast our positions flipped again. He was on me instantly. He straddled my body, his weight crushing my chest. His beefy hands found their way to my neck, and I reached for his face.

  The stolen skin felt unnatural beneath my fingers.

  I grabbed the uneven flaps and began to pull, eyes burning as his grip tightened.

  He must’ve glued the damned thing on. I could hear it tearing away, pulling his own skin off in the process. He started yelling, nails digging into the sides of my throat. I pulled harder, coming away with the entire bottom portion of floppy flesh grasped in my hands. A thin pair of lips was all I could see as my vision blurred.

  A second or so later something rained down on my face, and the pressure around my throat vanished. As everything cleared, Mel was there pulling me into a sitting position as she grasped my cheeks in her hands.

  “Breathe!” she demanded, damn near shaking me.

  “Mel,” I managed to choke out, dragging in mouthfuls of air.

  A metallic tang violated my tastebuds, and I realized that wet sensation I’d felt had been blood.

  My stomach coiled in revulsion. I could deal with a lot of shit, no pun intended, but not some random person’s body fluids in my mouth. I chucked the thin piece of flesh across the room and swiped at my face with a forearm, clearing the tears and hopefully the blood away.

  I finally glanced at the big man, watching his body twitch as he bled out. Mel had lodged the scalpel right in the side of his neck.

  “Stop trying to keep me in a protective bubble. You do this again and I will personally kill you myself,” she seethed, helping me stand up none too gently.

  I opened my mouth to reply, cut off by an eruption of sobs. Dion’s girlfriend was awake, clinging onto him as if he were a lifeline.

  He’d removed the needles from her arms and was hugging her back just as tightly. His glassy eyes settled on us and he gave a nod of appreciation.

  “Thank you,” he rasped.

  “Sure…” I trailed off.

  Mel turned away, expelling a deep breath. She of course, knew I hadn’t come in here with the intention of saving Morrigan. I wasn’t that selfless. I simply needed Dion out of my way, Mel safe, and Mr. Wendigo handled. The jester had to of mentioned him performing an operation for a reason.

  As if she read my mind from wherever she was watching—the sound system clicked on and the next riddle carried through the speakers.

  “And there it is,” I deadpanned.

  “Flesh will split, and bones will break. To free the damned and save her life, reach inside and find the key.”

  When she finished, the overhead light went off, and the whiteboard lit up, displaying a set of x-rays.

  I didn’t think Dion would be of any help right now. He was too busy consoling Morrigan. Tracing over the new scratches I just acquired, I walked over to the whiteboard with Mel. All three X-rays looked identical. I didn’t notice anything out of place on any of them.

  “Do you think these are all from same person?” Mel asked.

  I studied the images closely, noticing something I’d missed at first glance.

  “No. See how this radiation is black? Whoever this person is has a fracture or break already. The other two don’t.”

  She stared at the side of my head. “How do you know that?”

  “Lamia studied this in high-school,” I replied wistfully.

  “Oh, right. I forgot…”

  I cleared my throat and looked over the images for a third time. I couldn’t waste time on my sister’s memory right now.

  “Who are they?” I heard Morrigan ask Dion, her words slightly slurred.

  “They were brought here like we were. They’ve been helping me,” he explained quietly.

  “I think the key is inside our friend over there,” I stated, pretending not to of been eavesdropping.

  “You found it?” Mel stepped closer to the board.

  “No, but that makes the most sense. Doesn’t it? We’re in an operation room and the riddle mentioned reaching inside something and splitting flesh.”

  She swept her colorful hair away from her face and turned towards Mr. Wendigo. “So, do we just slice his ass open and start digging?”

  “I don’t particularly want to dig through someone’s body.”

  “Then how else do you suppose we find where this key has been hidden?”

  “Let me check something,” Dion said suddenly.

  He helped Morrigan down from the examination table and walked over to where our cadaver was, keeping her by his side. Her pace was off—sluggish—like she’d been drugged. Then again, she probably had. At the very least she’d been under anesthesia with three syringes of something injected into her blood stream. Who knows what the faux doctor was planning to do next?

  She glanced at us, offering a strained smile. Now that I could see her clearly, I realized she and Dion were practically the same height. Their build was similar as well, and that wasn’t the only thing.

  She was a naturally pretty girl, but they could’ve been brother and sister with how closely they resembled one another.

  Dion released her hand and crouched beside the body. We all watched as he unbuttoned the man’s shirt, careful not to get blood on his shoes or hands. He removed his glasses to clean the lens, scooting a bit closer once they were back on.

  “There’s an incision scar already, just follow along that. My guess is that this keys by the ribs.”

  Cut along the dotted line is what he was saying in so many words. It was a simple solution I felt like a dumbass for not considering it myself.

  We joined Dion beside Mr. Wendigo. Looking at the man’s face up close had my mouth turning down on its own violation. Where I’d torn the real doctor’s flesh away from his was splotchy and bleeding.

  His lips were slightly parted, revealing a bottom row of yellowing teeth and black gums. I almost felt bad for the guy. There was insanity, and then there were people like him.

  “You want to do the honors?”

  Dion rose to his feet and retreated at the speed of light. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

  With a sigh, I stepped over Mr. Wendigo’s legs and pulled the scalpel from the side of his neck, causing an arterial spray of blood to shoot across the tiled floor. I paid it little attention, focusing on his pale chest.

  I could see the incision Dion was referring to clear as day. I stepped to the side and knelt beside the body, careful not to kneel directly in the blood that had pooled and ran.

  “I’m going to need your help,” I informed Mel.

  “What should I do?”

  “Go to his other side.”

  She did as I asked without any rebuttal, mirroring my stance. Cognizant of how sharp the end of the scalpel was, I gripped the metal handle tightly and lowered it down to where the incision scar was.

  I swallowed and took a small breath. The most mind-boggling thing about this to me was that someone cut Mr. Wendigo open and put a damn key inside his body just so that someone else could remove it.

  “You studied this in school, didn’t you?”

  I paused and glanced across at her. “You know I barely passed anatomy and physiology, right? By barely, I mean if my mom didn’t threaten my life with the chancla I would’ve failed.”

  She laughed dryly. “I didn’t even make it to that class, so you’re already doing better than I would, babe.”

  “Thanks for the encouragement,” I muttered, staring down at the lifeless chest.

  I knew where to cut, but not how deeply I needed the blade to go. Readjusting my grip one last time, I began. I made the first incision, and I swear to you this blasé moment would stick with me for the rest of my fucking life. It wasn’t because I was slicing open another human being, but because I had this distinct feeling that I’d done this before.

  I didn’t get it.

  I had no idea where it was coming from. I tried to shake it off and honed my focus on what I was doing right then. Scarlet blood bubbled up and began to pool onto the floor, a stark contrast against its host’s nearly chalk-white skin.

  It was a little surprising, how easily the skin separated. I used my other hand to slightly brace myself, finding Mr. Wendigo felt leathery to the touch, his body already going cold.

  As flesh separated from tissue, I began to see deposits of fat. At the same time, a putrid odor started to rise into the air. A stench so potent my eyes watered.

  “Holy fuck,” Mel sniffled, leaning as far back as she could while still being close enough to help.

  “Hold that left flap,” I said to her, turning my head to the side and blinking a few times.

  Dion coughed and retreated a little further from us, taking Morrigan with him, trying and failing to suppress a dry heave. I refocused my attention, starting again, this time twice as determined.

  With my scalpel barely touching anything it seemed, I cut through a layer of underlying muscle. There was a fascinating, yet sickly squelching sound as they separated. Beneath them was a bleached white set of bones. My eyes traced over their grooves and hollows.

  And then I saw it.

  “You see that?” I asked Mel to confirm I wasn’t high off noxious body fumes.

  “Yeah,” she croaked, fixated on what was busted wide open in front of us.

  A piece of plastic was indeed inside of Mr. Wendigo. I sat the scalpel aside, and with slightly shaking hands, ignoring the way my nose hairs were burning from his body’s stench, I reached down into him.

  I should’ve asked for someone to find me a pair of gloves, but we’d wasted enough time as it was. There may not have been a countdown going but one of my best-friends was still trapped in this shithole somewhere.

  I felt muscles and inner skeletal frame against my fingertips as I dug deeper within him. My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears, adrenaline was flowing through my veins.

  “Got cha,” I breathed, finally, grasping the key card between my fingers.

  It came from right between the ribs, like a butterknife slicing through butter. Once it was all the way free, I let the scalpel go and rose to my feet, using my forearm to wipe my nose and eyes again. There was blood and body fluids all over my hands and wrists, dripping in excess.

  “Here.” Dion ushered me towards the back of the room where a large metal sink sat against the corner wall.

  I rushed over and stuck my arms beneath the cool stream of water. Globs of blood and fat coated the metallic red. I scrubbed myself quickly, rinsing the card as well before swapping places with Mel. There weren’t any paper towels in the dispenser, so I used the bottom half of my shirt.

  “You good?” I asked as soon as she stepped away from the sink.

  “Yeah, let’s go find our girls,” she replied.

  “Follow behind us,” I said to Dion, already heading for the door.

  I didn’t pay any attention to Morrigan. She was his priority to worry about. Not to mention she still seemed pretty out of it and that would only slow us all down.

  Mel and I hit the hall and immediately went to the right, taking another turn a few steps later. Doors were on either side of us now. All shut tight with glass block windows.

  “Check left. I’ll check right,” I dictated.

  The first two doors I checked were definitely not Grace. One had a completely naked man sitting on the edge of his bed and the other had an older woman lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling.

  Dion had claimed this place wasn’t meant to resemble a prison, but isn’t that precisely what it was? People were put in here to rot. Or they were used as a founding families sacrificial lamb for this fucked up game we had been forced to play.

  We could very well be one of the same, but at least we weren’t locked inside a goddamn insane asylum.

  “What’s this girl look like?” Dion asked, a few paces behind us.

  “She’s got dark blonde and brownish colored hair. Hazel eyes. Some tattoos.”

  “Fourth door on the right,” Morrigan informed us in a softly spoken voice.

  “You know who we’re here for?” Mel questioned, turning to look at her.

  “I was in the room across from hers.”

  “What about a redhead? Have you seen her too?” I called over my shoulder as I jogged to door four alongside Mel.

  I didn’t hear her reply. Or maybe I did and blocked it out because the moment I saw Gracelyn I felt like bursting into tears. I scanned the door until I found where to insert the key card, swiping it like I would a debit card. A light flashed from red to green, and a lock audibly came undone.

  Mel slid the door open and barreled into the room first.

  I caught myself halfway over the threshold before doing the same thing. I didn’t trust the door not to slam shut and lock all three of our asses in here together.

  “Thank fuck!” Gracelyn exclaimed.

  She jumped off the small bed she’d been sitting on, taking the two of us in with glassy hazel eyes.

  “I didn’t know what happened to you guys,” she said with a sniffle.

  “Don’t start falling apart on us,” I replied jokingly. I looked her over from head to toe, another weight flying off my chest when I saw she wasn’t physically harmed. The straitjacket had to go, though.

  “Get this damn thing off me, please.” She turned so that her back was to us.

  “Why are you even wearing that?” I asked.

  “I tried to fight the assholes that tossed me in here,” she disclosed nonchalantly.

  Mel quickly removed the hideous garb and it fell to the ground, revealing that she was wearing the same getup as us. I moved out of the way so that they could cleanly exit, keeping ahold of the door just in case.

  “Come.” Mel grabbed her hand and all but dragged her from the cell of a room.

  I moved out of the way so that they could exit. Almost instantly, less than three seconds of her being free, an alarm began to blare. I grimaced, slightly hunching my shoulders as it blasted through the air above our heads. It reminded me of the old fire bells from school. The jester’s voice carried over top of it.

  “Residents please remain calm as Vesania will now be entering lock-down mode. For those seeking to gain another batch of some good old Helios, please bring me those responsible for releasing the girl in room four on the second floor.”

  The overhead lights flickered to a dull red color, signifying the code she’d called. One by one, the doors surrounding us began to slide open. There wasn’t time to utter another word to each other.

  We had to go.

  “This way.” Grace grabbed hold of mine and Mel’s hands, pushing us to run in the opposite direction we’d come from, yelling, “Help Mo!” at Dion.

  “What about Selena?”

  “She’s not here anymore!” Grace yelled over the alarm.

  I wanted to ask where she was then, but instead asked where we were going, blindly following Grace down another hallway.

  “Away from the nurses. They carry tranquilizers. Found out when they put me in the jacket.”

  Patients began to fill the halls, some running right by us, others completely out of their minds. I narrowly dodged around an old man that made to grab me, shoving him back into the room he’d just come out of. I glanced behind me in time to see Dion curse and shove another, sending her spiraling into the wall. Morrigan was doing her best to keep up, but her pace was still off. Dion was damn near carrying her with one arm.

  Coming to a split at the end of the hall we were in, we had to choose which direction to go.

  “This way!” a man with tussled brown hair suddenly called out from the right.

  I looked him over and saw he wasn’t dressed like any of the other patients. He was donning an outfit like Dion’s, but a different color. He wasn’t alone either. A man with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail was with him.

  “Hurry!” he yelled before disappearing through another set of metal doors.

  “Do we risk it?” Mel asked.

  “That door should lead to stairs,” I replied.

  I jumped to the side as another patient bolted by us, whirling around when I heard Dion yell for help and Morrigan scream. A woman was climbing him like a tree, her gnarled hands clutching at his face.

  “I got em! They’re--!”

  Her victorious claim was cut short with a pained yelp. Grace grabbed her wildly gray hair and ripped her away from Dion, who promptly smashed her in the face with the palm of his hand. The woman dropped to the floor yelling incoherently.

  We left her there and hauled ass to the metal door the two men had went through just minutes ago. It led to a landing, thankfully one that wasn’t stopping us from going downward.