Solitary

Six

Brad is sprawled on the ground, his shirt torn open down the front. He is erratically panting. Elizabeth stays beside him, patting his hands, trying to calm him down.

Chester is standing quite a distance away from Brad and Elizabeth. He sighs after hearing what Madelaine has to say over the phone when he calls. "Please be quick, Mad," he pleads. "I've called the police, but I—"

"You've called the police?" Madelaine sounds unhappy and disbelieving. It is like a response of disapproval. "Why did you do that?"

Chester is struck. "You don't seem so happy that I called the police."

"I mean... You—I—you know my family isn't in good terms with the police, don't you?" she staggered. "Since my old house got searched without a warrant because my brother was accused of drug smuggling, which ended up in him admitted to juvenile and rehabilitation?" She pauses for a beat and takes a deep breath. "I mean yes, my mother won parole after he served a three-day sentence but not before she lashed out and broke down in court." For once, her voice contains sadness and regret in it, as if begging for Chester's consolation.

He sighs before clenching his jaw. "Okay, so now I have called them. Should I just retract my reports?"

Madelaine falls silent. She then groans. "Fine. Just—whatever you do, don't do things you will regret." She sighs. "I love you."

"I love you too." Chester ends the call and walks back to his two friends. He looks at Brad, writhing in pain. "How are you holding up?" he asks, kneeling down and clasping Brad's hand gently.

Brad hisses as he tries to sit up. "I've been better."

"What happened?" Elizabeth queries.

"I don't know," he says. "The last thing I remember is that this buff guy in black shoved me into that secret compartment and tried to kill me when he heard you coming." He points at the corner next to them.

Chester walks over there and pushes the wall to reveal the dark room. It is empty but for a ladder. "Do you know what's up there?"

He shakes his head. "He tried to bring me up there but I retaliated."

Elizabeth inches toward the cramped room. She immediately scrunches her nose as a horrid odor wafts into her nostrils. It is terrible and obnoxious, like a corpse is rotting up there. She also hears stomping from above. "Do you hear that? I want to see what's up there."

Chester shots a warning glare at her. "What? I don't hear anything. We better not—"

The thumping sounds again. Muffled screams follow this time.

"Hear that! Someone's upstairs! I'm not asking anyone to come with me. I said I am curious. This isn't an obligation of some kind and you aren't my boyfriend or my babysitter or something." She places her left hand on the cold, rusty beam of the ladder as her foot steps up the lowest bar.

Chester is quick to seize her by her right wrist, garnering her attention to him. "It could be dangerous."

She forcefully works her hand off of Chester's grip. Without looking back at him, she climbs up the ladder.

"What happened to 'I am so desperate to get out of here?'"

"That person who is presumably in trouble upstairs." She resumes her exploration up the ladder.

Chester looks at Brad, propped up the wall like a stuffed puppet. "Are you okay if we leave you here?"

Brad begins trying to stand up, hissing all the way. "I think I can still manage ladders and stranger attics." Though he has a hard time going up, he manages to safely arrive upstairs.

The three gasps at what they are witnessing. The attic is a vast area that covered all the perimeter of the cabin. There is even the hole from before to their right.

They scan the whole place, shining their flashlights here and there. They can hear the rain thundering over them, baffling the indistinct, muffled screams and unsteady stomping that lured Elizabeth.

The acidic reek of ammonia from the rain admixes to the foul stench of blood, not to mention the biting fetor of mildew and moss. The stink polluting the fresh air from outside adds to the dust floating around, making it so hard and unpleasant to breathe.

Chester looks around and goes ahead his left. It is a dead end; nothing is there. "I think we should go there." He walks up front and pointed his light at the hole which allows rain to shower into the cabin.

By means of the little flooring left behind, they manage to cross over to the other side of the attic. Chester confidently strides through the rain, Elizabeth cautiously following behind, and Brad limps his way, being extra careful not to slip nor fall.

"Look who's more into this mission now," Elizabeth disses.

As they walk ahead, they can feel the putrid odor getting more pungent. It smells like rotting eggs and rusting metal. The more forward they go, the stronger the fetor smells.

Feet becoming heavier with each step, Elizabeth begins to regret insisting on going up here. "I don't feel good about this," she half-whispers.

Brad becomes a little bit uneasy. "Could this smell be..."

Chester shines his flashlight all around the room, before stopping on the ceiling where a terrifying surprise has been laying, waiting for its discoverer.

"I think you have to see this," Chester monotonously informs.

Both Elizabeth and Brad nears him, looking up at the direction of Chester's light. Their view is focused on a single, disturbing display. Elizabeth stumbles backwards, gasping and covering her mouth, while Brad took no hesitation in averting his gaze to another direction, squelching at the horrid sight.

Hanging off the wall is the lifeless, bleeding, stinking corpse of Timothy Grundale.