CHAPTER 6: THE VOICE IN THE DARK
Darkness swallowed the chamber so completely that even breathing sounded too loud.
No one moved.
No one dared.
Richard's hand instinctively reached for the flashlight clipped to his belt.
He clicked it once.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
Every flashlight had died at the exact same moment.
"What happened?" one of the guards whispered.
Detective Hayes kept his voice low.
"Stay together. Nobody walks alone."
A faint scraping sound drifted through the chamber.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Like someone dragging a metal chain across stone.
Marina tightened her grip on Ethan.
"Richard..."
"I'm here."
"Did you hear that?"
Before he could answer, Luna's voice echoed again.
"Mr. Sterling..."
It came from somewhere to the left.
Weak.
Afraid.
"Please..."
"Help me..."
Richard took one step toward the sound.
Then he remembered the warning.
Don't answer if someone calls your name.
He froze.
Hayes noticed.
"What is it?"
Richard whispered back.
"That may not be Luna."
Silence.
Then...
Another voice.
This time from behind them.
"Richard."
It was Marina's voice.
Except Marina was standing beside him.
Every hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Hayes slowly drew his pistol.
"We're not alone."
A tiny emergency light suddenly flickered to life near the ceiling.
Then another.
And another.
Within seconds, the room glowed with a dim red light.
Just enough to reveal...
They were no longer alone.
The walls were covered with mannequins.
Life-sized.
Dressed in clothes identical to the Sterling family's.
One wore Richard's navy suit.
One wore Marina's white evening dress.
One wore Ethan's birthday clothes.
Dozens of blank faces stared silently into the room.
Ethan buried his face against his mother.
"I don't like this place..."
Richard scanned the chamber.
"Spread out."
"No farther than five feet from each other."
The guards moved cautiously.
One reached the far wall.
"Sir!"
Richard hurried over.
The photographs weren't random.
They were arranged in chronological order.
The oldest was nearly fifteen years old.
Richard, much younger, standing beside his father at the grand opening of Sterling Shipyards.
Then another.
His wedding.
Ethan's birth.
Family vacations.
Business meetings.
Hospital visits.
Someone had documented almost every important day of his life.
Hayes frowned.
"This isn't surveillance."
"It's an obsession."
Near the center of the wall hung a photograph unlike the others.
It showed Richard standing beside a little girl.
Seven years old.
Barefoot.
Wearing a torn yellow dress.
Luna.
Richard's heartbeat stumbled.
"I've never met her before tonight."
Hayes stared at the date printed beneath the photograph.
Eight years earlier.
"That's impossible," he muttered.
"If she's seven..."
Richard looked closer.
The little girl's face was partially hidden.
Blurred.
Almost as if the camera had failed to capture it properly.
Then something caught his eye.
Behind himself...
Standing several feet away...
Was the same elderly man with the silver cane.
Watching.
Always watching.
Suddenly, the hidden speakers crackled again.
"Do you like my collection, Mr. Sterling?"
The calm voice echoed through every corner.
"You've been following me for years!" Richard shouted.
A quiet laugh answered him.
"No."
"You've been walking exactly where I wanted."
Hayes stepped toward the center of the room.
"Who are you?"
"My name no longer matters."
"What do you want?"
"I want the truth."
Richard clenched his fists.
"What truth?"
The speaker fell silent for several seconds.
Then...
"Tell me, Richard."
"When was the last time you visited your father's private office?"
Richard frowned.
"After his funeral."
"No."
"You visited one more time."
"I didn't."
"Are you sure?"
Fragments of memory stirred.
A locked drawer.
An unfinished letter.
His father's trembling hands.
Richard suddenly felt a sharp pain behind his eyes.
Images flashed.
Rain.
A crying child.
His father shouting—
Then...
Nothing.
The memory vanished as quickly as it came.
Hayes noticed Richard's expression.
"What is it?"
"I..."
Richard shook his head.
"I can't remember."
The voice returned.
"Exactly."
"Someone helped you forget."
A loud metallic click echoed overhead.
A section of the stone wall began sliding open.
Behind it...
A narrow corridor stretched into darkness.
At the far end stood a single wooden desk beneath an old brass lamp.
On the desk rested a thick leather journal.
Its cover was embossed with one name.
Edward Sterling.
Richard's late father.
Across the cover, written in fresh black ink, were chilling words:
READ THE FIRST PAGE...
IF YOU DARE REMEMBER.
At that exact moment, a faint child's laugh drifted from somewhere deeper inside the corridor.
Not frightened.
Not crying.
May you like
Almost...
As if Luna had been waiting for them all along.
