What happens when a bunch of killers are forced to live together?
BATTLE OF THE KILLERS is a reality show that follows Betinia Woods, a girl kidnapped and forced to live in an underground bunker with twelve other killers. The bunker is equipped wit...
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SURREAL. That's the only word I could use to describe how it felt to go back to Layla's room.
Less than three hours ago, we'd been kidnapped and bound there while she threw shit at people. She was very much alive, and now she was dead, and we were about to invade her innermost secrets and soul.
I didn't know how to feel really. Sadness was one of the emotions I felt because I'd known that she was disturbed, but not from her own accord.
I clicked on the light, seeing that most of the room had succumbed to fire damage. Deep scorch marks marred some of the furniture while others were saturated in thick foam.
My hand shielded my face from the rancid, ashy odor. "Are we even going to find anything in this mess?"
Walking in first, still cradling Duke to his chest, Khan squinted his eyes, walking to each corner. "Probably not. But we can at least try." He moved toward a black pile on the floor and used his foot to smush over some burnt material.
My eyes scanned the black walls and flooring, pausing when I came to a pile near the far left. It looked like there used to be an altar there. Half-burnt candles soaked in white bubbles littered the floor. A grotesque odor radiated intensely from this area.
Droopy white writing caked the wall. Broken stone statues sat on top of an ashy cloth that covered books.
Trifling through the books, I saw all sorts of handmade bibles. Bibles crammed with dark highlights and notes in the margins. Most of the writing was ineligible and looked like a three-year-old did it. Pages were ripped and smeared with shit. It was a total mess.
My fingers picked up one of the bibles, trying not to touch the shit on it, the smell making me nauseous. So nauseous that I dropped the book, knocking over the stack of bibles, causing one of them to spread open.
Inside, the pages were neatly cut out into a box shape, which housed a smaller booklet inside of it.
Opening it, Layla's handwriting caught my eye. It didn't read like the bibles I found. This book seemed more personal like it was her own personal diary or journal. Doing a quick scan, I saw that she mostly talked about her day.
I closed it and kept it close, thinking it might be of some use. Maybe, it would tell me something important? Maybe someone was stalking her? Or maybe she had an altercation with another contestant that I didn't know about.
"I found her journal," I said, walking over to Khan who was holding a large textbook in one hand.
"I found some chem books," he said, tossing the book back on the floor when Duke shifted sleepily in his arm, and he had to readjust himself or the doggy would fall.
He put a more protective arm around Duke, holding him close to his collarbone and neck this time.
"Aww," I said to myself, smiling at the perfect scene.
