Read an Excerpt
"Now ye see a staircase. Climb the stairs until ye reach the top." He paused. "At the top of the staircase is a tunnel." He paused again. "At the end of the tunnel, there is a door. Go inside and look around. Are ye alone? What are ye wearing? Do ye know the date?" Marcus hesitated briefly between each question allowing her subconscious to take note of her surroundings.
Ali followed his instructions to the letter. She looked around after entering the room at the end of the tunnel. The fog grew thicker and Marcus's voice faded farther into the distance with each step she took. Straining her eyes, her heart began to pound rapidly. A panicked strangling sensation consumed her as the fog began to clear.
What was happening?
Peering about wild-eyed, she looked down at herself. She was wearing a long, dirty white shirt of some sort, with a torn sleeve that flapped softly in the breeze from the opened door. She could taste a foul dread in the air, feel doom dance along her spine as it wafted in with the wind. Some blood spilled onto the sleeve from a gash on her arm.
She was in what appeared to be an old abandoned cottage. The door lay on the ground in the entry, as though it had been deliberately placed there. A fire burned in the stone fireplace. She could hear it sizzle and crack, could smell the burning embers.
And, God help her, she was not alone.