Chapter 4 - The Mad Dash
The realization hit Clara like a physical blow. The cries in the night, the locked third floor, the sudden disappearances—it all converged into this single, bloody scrap of paper.
She couldn't just stand there. She had to do something.
Shoving the note into her apron pocket, Clara grabbed her master key ring from her cart. Her mind was a chaotic blur of fear and adrenaline. She didn't think about the consequences; she only thought of Sarah, terrified and bleeding, locked away in the darkness of Room 304.
Clara burst out of the basement bathroom, her sneakers squeaking loudly against the concrete floor. She took the stairs three at a time, bypassing the elevator to avoid security cameras. Her chest burned, her breath coming in ragged, painful gasps.
She reached the third floor landing. The hallway was vast, silent, and suffocatingly elegant. The plush, patterned carpet muffled the frantic sound of her footsteps as she ran. She didn't care about being seen anymore; she was driven by a primal urge to save a life.
301... 302... 303...
There it was. Room 304.
The heavy mahogany door loomed before her, the brass numbers gleaming under the dim, warm hallway lights. The wood around the lock was scratched and chipped, as if someone had desperately clawed at it from the inside.
Clara fumbled with the heavy brass key ring, her yellow-gloved hands slick with sweat. Her mind screamed at her to hurry. She found the master key, her hands shaking so badly she dropped the ring once, the metallic clang echoing like a gunshot down the empty corridor.
May you like
"Please, please, please," she muttered, tears of sheer panic stinging her eyes. She picked up the keys, thrusting the master key into the lock. She twisted it.
The lock clicked. But before she could push the door open, a sudden, heavy shadow fell over her.
