"Shh," I remind Mike, dropping down behind a snow-covered ledge and dragging him with me. He almost falls into the snow, holding the lantern between us as the chilly ground swallows the other hand. 

    "Jesus," He whispers, peering over the ledge as I crane my neck to do the same. 

    The shadowy figure of Zac and Jess's killer retreats into the building, seemingly unaware of our presence. I push myself up a bit further, squinting until I can make out what I see in front of me.

    "That's not good," I wince, unable to tear my eyes away from the two wolves at his side.

    "That's really not good," Mike agrees. The stranger stops, his head turning in our direction. Acting quickly, Mike grabs my arm and yanks us both out of view, his chest level with my face as my back sits against the ledge. "Dammit,"

    I can feel the chill from his skin even through my layers, the iciness making my face burn in cold sympathy. 

    "Did he see us?" I ask, too afraid to get the answer myself. 

   "I don't think so," He informs, looking over my head before adjusting to give me room to get back to my previous position. 

    We stand, The stranger is now inside the building completely and therefore not a danger to us.

    "Let's get a closer look," He suggests, not leaving room for objection before he starts moving.

   I swallow, giving myself a mental pep talk. If I had been braver and didn't hesitate so much, I could have got to Jess long before the mineshaft collapsed. Long before it took my brother with it down into the depths. 

    Anger fills me at the thought of them, a montage playing in my head of all the good moments I had with him. Even some of the good moments with Jess before the prank. 

   I need to conquer my fear. For them.

   Mike sets the lantern on the ledge, using his arms to push himself up and climb on top of the guard. He looks back at me, making sure I'm still there before taking a breath and leaping down. 

    My turn.

    I brace my hands on the snow-covered wall, my fingers burning as I pull myself up until I'm standing on top of the edge. Looking down, there's a much longer drop than I first anticipated and nothing to latch onto. A thick layer of snow sits at the bottom, hopefully ready to break my fall. 

    "I'll catch you if you fall, Gloomy!" He calls out to me, snapping my attention to him and causing me to crack a smile at the stupid nickname.

    "Don't call me that," I demand playfully, bracing myself as I jump down and land without trouble. 

    "See, you got it," He encourages, turning his back to me as we walk deeper into the snow, getting closer to the creepy building. 

    Every moment of silence brings flashes of Zac to my mind, my fists tightening in a sickening rage. I dig my nails into my palm, trying to create a moment to pull my mind anywhere else. I need to focus.

    Mike holds the lantern close, the skin of his biceps red and dirty. I don't know how he hasn't got hypothermia. Maybe the rush of adrenaline is keeping him warm.

   He turns over his shoulder, my eyes quickly flicking away from his arms and to the path ahead. He only looks at me for a second longer as we pass an inactive fountain, walking up to the closed front door.

    "What's that sign say?" I mumble a question, walking up the steps and over to a boarded-up window to the left where a rusted sign sits.

    "1954? Jesus this place is dust," I comment, feeling Mike get closer as he looks over my shoulder at the sign.

      "Awesome. Why wouldn't we end up in the creepiest place on planet Earth?" He asks rhetorically, the sigh heavy in his tone.

    We walk back up to the front double doors and pause. Mike reaches his arm forward, pushing the door open without resistance. We glance at each other, communicating with just one look before stepping inside and walking   

    It's so quiet I can hear my heart thumping in my ears as we walk through a long hallway and onto another set of double doors. In this door, there's a slot on the right side allowing us to peek through.

    My heart pounds harder, my eyes watching the stranger intently as he throws a bone at one of the wolves beside him, unaware of our presence. Mike peers through next to me, an unbreakable look of determination on his face. 

    The man walks deeper into the sanitorium, disappearing behind the shadows as the wolves trot off in the other direction. As soon as the danger is out of the way, Mike steps back and inspects the door standing between us and the killer. 

    I move out of the way, allowing him to try and open the door. The handle doesn't budge, a big sign on the door reads; CHAPEL SECURITY PASS REQUIRED, sported by a small metal lock that reads 'locked' 

    "Think you can squeeze through?" I ask, jolting my thumb towards the skinny slot in the door. He looks down at me, shaking his head before looking around.

    "Ha, ha, Ruby," He lifts the lantern, turning to the right and nodding for me to follow him. My neck cranes as I take in the debris and ruins on the sanitarium, my nose stinging the worse my bad feeling gets, "What went on here?"

    "Yeah, this place is nuts," I mumble, sticking close to him and the light. 

    Walking through the abandoned medical centre some more, we pass through a room labelled 'admin'. Inside, a safe sits in the corner of one of the rooms, a plank of wood discarded next to it. 

    Mike beelines for the object, me behind him as he crouches down beside the wood.

    "Whoa," He comments, picking it up, "Someone really wanted to take a peek inside,"

    He turns over his shoulder, handing me the lantern as he jams the wood in between the slightly bent door of the safe. His face winces, his muscles straining as he pulls the door until it pops open. 

   Inside, mostly dust occupies the space. Relatively empty except for a stack of what looks like cars tied together in a bunch by a thin rope. "Oh, shit. Look at this,"

   "What is it?" I ask, angling my neck to get a look. He reaches for the cards, flipping them over and inspecting the writing.

    "Looks like miners clocking in cards," He relays the information, dropping the item back inside the safe. 

    "Why are there clocking-in cards for a mining company in a sanitorium?" I think out loud, handing the lantern back to Mike as he stands up. 

    "Maybe there was an outbreak of something? They all got sick?" He suggests. I shrug, ignoring the information as we continue further into the building. 

    The maze of the building only makes the peace feel more eerie. The lantern pushes aside the darkness, but the atmosphere feels resistant to any sort of light. Almost like it lives and breathes in the shadows of the day. 

    We exit through different doorways and halls, entering an old examination room. The place looks trashed and overcome by dust and cobwebs. The whole Sanatorium has me holding my hand up to my nose to stop from sneezing. 

    I approach a table, picking a piece of old paper up from the surface. My eyebrows furrow as I read over the contents of the letter, the miners being included once again.

    "What's it say?" He asks, joining my side.

    "It's a medical report about the minors," I trail off, reading through the letter, "It says twelve of them were trapped in the mines of this mountain for almost a month. They only survived because they found emergency food but were kept here for observations," 

    "Weird," He grumbles, looking around the room as I place the piece of paper back where I found it, "This mountain is so fucked,"

    "Tell me about it. They should have flattened it after-" I cut myself off, his shoulders tensing and my steps faltering as the ant in the room becomes an elephant. I almost let myself forget what he was involved in out of convenience. The reminder I needed to straighten up and take a step back from him. 

    The silence is overwhelming and heavy as we exit the examination room and continue exploring, my arms tightly over my chest as we enter another room. Mike picks up a newspaper, reading the story out loud about how a news reporter was attacked here for trying to interview and photograph the miners.

   "Almost sounds like they were hiding something," He clears his throat, looking back at me as he drops the paper back onto the table.

    "Or maybe they were protecting the minor's privacy. I knew I would hate having a camera in my face during a vulnerable moment," I unintentionally snap, my gut tightening in regret almost immediately. We both know what he did was wrong but now isn't the time. I clear my throat, looking down at my feet, "Sorry,"

    "Can I ask you something?" He responds, stepping closer to me as I drag my eyes up to meet his, "Are you more mad at me for... that night, or when I-"

    "Now isn't the time for this conversation, Michael," I shake my head, looking away from him in awkwardness, "But, I'm not mad at you for the other thing... that was my fault too,"     

    "I mean it when I say I'm sorry," He offers in sincerity. 

    "I know. But, sorry doesn't fix everything. Josh lost everything because of what you guys did. He'll never be the same. Sorry doesn't fix that. It doesn't fix what I did either," I remind, my arms almost hurting from how hard I'm crossing them across my body. "What's important now is... is justice for Jess and Zac. I'm sure we can agree on that,"

    His face is something I can only describe as a kicked puppy. He looks at me with an expression filled with sadness and regret. I look away, continuing through the sanatorium with him hot on my heels. 

   The light from the lantern is my only indication of how close Mike is, it never falters behind me for more than a step or two at a time. I know he regrets what happened, and I know he feels the same way I do for failing to save our friends. I think he's scared of failing again. 

    I reach a table half tucked behind a set of white wooden doors. Approaching it, I watch as a crow caws and takes off into the darkness. The lantern enters the space, light reflecting off a machete stuck into the wood. It's surrounded by what looks like some kind of flesh and blood.

    "Disgusting," I mutter, grabbing the door and pulling it open. I latch onto the handle and rip the blade from its place in the wood, holding it up to inspect. "Could do with some protection,"

    "Agreed,"

   I tuck the machete through a loop in my pants, continuing on through a new section of the building. 

    We get to a row of green curtains, all covering the contents of the rooms behind them. Mike stops at one of the curtains, pausing as he braces his hand on the curtain. He turns to me, watching as I pull the machete free and hold it up just in case. 

   I nod, letting him know I'm ready as he pulls the curtain back. I let out a breath, nothing jumping out from behind the curtain. 

    Lowering the weapon to my side, I follow him into the small section to inspect the insides. The most concerning thing is a restraining chair sitting off to the left.

    "What happened here?" I question, wishing these walls could talk and tell us everything. 

    "Twisted fuckers liked to watch, I guess," Mike comments, staring down the chair.

    A chill goes over my body, a question begging to be answered tugging at my brain. Liked to watch what?

    "I am so ready to get the fuck out of here," I announce, exiting the small room, Mike joining me in the bigger hall. 

   A sick feeling claws at my stomach as we keep walking, a carving in the wall catching my attention. 

   'How many days will they keep us here' is scratched into the wall along with an incorrect set of tally marks. The lines display one bunch as eight instead of five. Clearly whoever scratched that was lucid and scared. 

    We continue through dark hallways and rooms, sifting through the rubble and trying to remain quiet. This place only seems like it gets bigger the deeper inside you go

    We get to another bigger room, and my heart sinks when I spy what looks like a dismembered hand onto op a table. It sits upright, jankly swinging back and forth as if it's attached to a machine. 

   "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Mike exclaims as we stop to observe the sight. The contents of my stomach threaten my throat, the feeling of vomit only becoming stronger.

    "Was he feeding those wolves... this?" I ask the unthinkable. 

    Mike reaches slowly for a label hanging around the wrist. I jump forward, grabbing onto his arm and shaking my head, "Don't touch it!"

   "I just want to see what it says," He reassures. I bite the skin of my lip, letting go as he gets closer to the hand. 

    The second his fingers graze the tag, a bear trap springs from underneath, the hand practically disappearing as the trap clamps down on two of Mike's fingers. 

   He screams in pain, a yelp of shock escaping me as blood splatters from his injury. A few drops land on my white vest, tainting the material forever with an essence of him.

    He groans and whines in pain, my eyes wide and panicked as I move to stand opposite him and assess the damage. He can't pull his fingers out and the longer we stay still, the more danger we're in.

    "Fuck, what the fuck," I breathe, holding my hands on my head in shock.

    "You're gonna have to amputate them," Mike tells me through strained groans of pain.

    "What? No, no way. I'm not fucking cutting your fingers off!" I yell in an attempted hush tone. "Maybe I can pry the trap open-"

    "Don't. It could snap," He protests, his eyes clenched shut in pain. "If you can't do it, give me the machete and I will,"

    "I told you not to fucking touch it!" I cry, the machete shaking in my hands as I stare down at the trap.

   "I know, I know. I'm sorry. Just... just give me the machete, Ruby," He stammers, holding his free hand out for the weapon.

    I contemplate for a second, my gut telling me it's wrong to make him cut his own fingers off. Clenching my eyes shut, I shake my head and step forward. "No, it's okay. I can do it,"

   I reach for the hair tie holding my hair into a ponytail, pulling it out so my hair hangs free. 

    "What are you doing?" He questions as I use the machete to cut the band in half. 

    "I don't know, I saw it on TV! I've never amputated anything before," I snap, placing the machete in between my knees as I wrap the band around the base of his fingers, tying them tightly to try and stop blood flow. I grab the knife once more, lining it up with his fingers, a strong grimace on my face.

    "You got this, Rubes," He encourages, the other fingers on his hand flexed as if to give me room to swing the weapon. 

    I nod, my knuckles turning white on the handle as I try to hype myself up. 

    "Nope, I can't. I'm prying it open," I inform, jamming the blade in between the trap. 

    "Okay, okay, just get this thing open," Mike says through gritted teeth.

    I pull as hard as I can, the trap only opening an inch before the blade snaps off. Mike yelps in pain as the bear trap tightens once more, the broken piece of metal flying elsewhere.

    "Ruby," He groans, staring down at his fingers. 

    "I'm sorry, I'm trying!" I stammer, jamming the now-broken machete back into the trap and pulling with all my might. His free fingers shake in pain even as the trap opens another inch.

    I can tell Mike is trying not to freak me out, but by the look on his face, it's obvious he's losing his mind right now.

   The trap opens enough for Mike to pull his hand free, his fingers still intact. 

    "Oh, fuck," He whines, holding his injury with his other hand. 

    "Are you okay?" I ask, discarding the broken machete to inspect his hand. 

    "I'm okay," He grunts, grabbing the lantern with his non-injured hand. He shakes his hand as if trying to flick off the pain, a wince still clear on his features. "Let's just keep moving. 

    He grabs my hair tie from his fingers, pulling it off and flicking the now broken thing away from us. 

    "Well..." I trail off, looking down at the discarded machete as we make our way to the other side of the room, "No more protection,"

    "C'mon, Ruby. Those guns of yours have us covered," He attempted to grin, holding his injured hand close to his chest. 

   I don't reply, opting to walk and search in silence. Despite the army of conflicting feelings I feel towards Mike, feelings of betrayal and friendship, I stick close to him out of an even stronger emotion; fear.

    The stretch of these creepy halls covers a lifetime, a shelf full of jars catching my eye. We pause, making eye contact with a horrific sight.

    Inside one of the jars, a disfigured and decaying head stares back at me, the mouth slack open in a somewhat creepy smile.

    "Sup chatterbox, hanging out? Us too," Mike talks to the head. I jerk my elbow into his ribs, ignoring the way he flinches in pain.

    "What the hell is that? This place is gross," I screw my face up, moving away from the strange jar and continuing. 

    To the left of a shelf, another closed door sits in darkness. Next to it, an all too familiar sign asking for a keycard to unlock it. 

    "What? Are you serious?" Mike groans.

    "Now we have to find a fucking keycard?" I sigh, tilting my head back slightly, "This place has more rotting corpses than it does normal shit,"

    "Fuck this place," Mike mutters in agreement, aiming the lantern elsewhere as we begin our search for a keycard.

    To the left of the room, the walls are lined with small, square drawers. The sight reminds me of a morgue, something that makes me bite the skin of my lip in nervousness as we begin opening the doors. Most of them are uneventful, with name tags and death certificates from patients being scratched the death in the 50s. 

    "Lucky last," I breathe, latching onto the handle of the draw and opening the door. Mike does little to illuminate the way as I grasp the tray inside and pull it open. 

    The beginning of a scream escapes my mouth at the sight of another decaying body, this time a full body with drawn-back skin and bulging eyes. Mike quickly clasps a hand over my mouth, reminding me to be quiet as not to alert the killer or his pets of our presence. 

    I nod, showing him I'm okay as he lowers his hand and inspects the body with disgust, "Fucking sick,"

    "Scared the shit out of me," I breathe. 

    "Looky what we have here," He announces, reaching to pull a keycard out of the pocket of the corpse. He turns over his shoulder, smiling at me and gesturing towards the object.

    "I think I'll 'looky' over by the door. Thanks though, Michael," I declare, crossing my arms over my chest and walking away from the rotting corpse. I reach the door, waiting for him to rejoin me. 

    He jams the keycard into the machine, the red sign flicking to green to signal it's now unlocked. I grab the doorknob, twisting it open and pushing it to reveal the darkness. He grabs the card back from the door, both of us walking through.

    We enter into more dark and empty rooms and reach a staircase.

    Sluggishly, we climb up a flight of stairs, the exhaustion clearly coming over both of us.

    Suddenly, loud and vicious snarling disrupts the silence. My head whips around, watching as a wolf appears through a hole in the wall leading to another room. The wolf gets closer with each snap or growl, its teeth daringly close to my leg.

   I take off quickly, latching onto Mike's hand as he joins me. We direct each other, our linked hands keeping us together rather than splitting off in the chaos. 

    My heart thumps in my ears, my hand tugging on Mike as I yank us into a room. Both of us work to quickly slam the door shut. The closed-door protects us from the vicious animal, and our breaths mix in another adrenaline-fueled moment. 

    A sight to my left catches my eye. A gap in the wall allows me to set my sights on the stranger once more, his presence retreating as he walks through a door labelled exit and shuts the wired door behind him. I turn to the side and see Mike watching along with me. 

    "This little fucker is slippery," I express through gritted teeth. "C'mon, we have to find him,"

    We walk towards another staircase, walking down the steps until we reach a gap in the structure. 

    This time, I take the lead by dropping to my ass on the edge and pushing myself off the edge. Dropping down, I land easily on my feet and look up, waiting for Mike to join me. 

     He drops down, grunting at the impact as he holds the lantern up and looks around, "Right. Back in here,"

    Looking around in the now illuminated room, I see we're in the same room we began in. My shoulders slump, continuing to walk as we approach the first set of locked doors we came into contact with.

    This time, we have the keycard required to unlock and push the door open. Before we get a chance to enter, the wolf reappears, its jaw snapping and voice growling 

    My heart skips a beat, my eyes darting down to Mike's fist as it clenches. The wolf stands still, snarling, but making no effort to hurt us.

    "Wait," I demand, grabbing Mike's wrist before he can deliver that blow. I keep my eyes trained on the animal, my heart slowing down, "It's not gonna hurt us,"

    Mike very clearly realises the same thing, my hand leaving his fist as we both hold our palms flat out to show we mean no harm. 

    The wolf stares at us for a moment before turning and circling around.

    "Easy boy," Mike coos. The wolf sits, staring up at us curiously as we step closer and closer, "That's right,"

    "That's a good boy," I join the calming praise.

    We continue to talk positively to the animal, Mike crouching down to hesitantly scratch the underneath of the wolf's jaw.  Mike reaches back, handing the lantern to me.

    "Everyone likes a little lovin', right?" Mike grins, moving his hand to pet the top of the wolf's head. 

    "We gotta keep going, Mike," I remind, scratching the top of the wolf's head.

    I move to the right side of the room, the lantern leading my patch as I spot an article of clothing hanging from a gated room. I snatch the green jacket off of its place, inspecting it before whistling to signal Mike.

    "For your dignity," I say, tossing the jacket his way. He catches it effortlessly, slipping the garment over his shoulders and covering his cold skin. 

    As he dresses himself, I turn back to the caged section, noticing a hole in the fence and something reflective on the shelf. I hold the lantern closer, spotting a gun sitting on the wood.

    "Mike, look," I grab his attention, nodding my head towards the gun. I reach my arm through the hole in the fence, pushing as far as I can. My fingertips don't even get close to grazing the weapon.

    "Watch out," He mutters, reaching his arm around me to grab a concrete slab holding the shelf up. The side of the shelf collapses, the revolver sliding down the shelf until it's easily within reach. 

    He grabs the gun, holding it down by his side and leading the way. I hold the lantern tightly, approaching the door we saw the stranger exit through. Mike aims the gun, pointing it at the lock and pulling the trigger without a second thought. He pushes the gate open, discarding the lock and allowing me to walk through. 

    It feels like we walk forever, jogging down another staircase and exploring hallway after hallway. Eventually, we make it to another fenced door, a lock preventing us from walking through as well as an oil barrel in the way. 

   Mike grabs the barrel, pulling it away from the fence. He waits for me to aim the light before lining the gun up with the lock and firing off another round. 

   To my horror, sparks from the shot fall to the ground and ignite spilled oil from another barrel. As if it couldn't get worse, the oil leads the flames to the other side of the fence, lighting three other oil barrels like a ticking time bomb.

    "Mike!" I yell in fear. We both turn on our heels, taking off away from the fire just as an explosion sweeps me off my feet, sending me to the floor. 

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AUTHORS NOTE

god, this chapter took forever. some of these scenes draggg on but that's good, give me more content. but, it does get tiring.

i did proof read but its 1am so if any mistakes slip past me just ignoree

anyway, sorry for the wait! i hope you guys enjoy x

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