Chela barely let him see her reaction as she transitioned back into chase and dove down the stairs. This phenomenon was a distraction, no different from the room of victims she’d awoken in. A sound stung her like the high-pitched buzzing of an insect flying into her ear canal. Adrenaline she thought. Her senses felt dull, blunted by the blood. Exerting so much energy shortly after the transfusion was the likely culprit but she wasn’t going to stop. She was going to find this Kelpie, tease out their plot, and recover the memories that had brought her to this place. She would use force if she needed to. She was looking forward to it.
When Chela reached the bottom of the stairwell, it opened into a much larger room. It was at one time a mess hall, recreation hall, or both. This prison no longer felt worthy of surprise, so she paid little mind to the legion of dead sitting in rows of their own chairs with the usual accessories. Decay was all around her. Light peered through the cracks between double doors on the other side and Chela wasted no time navigating the narrow lanes of corpses toward it.
The piercing sound burrowed its way back in. Chela hadn’t noticed it was gone until it returned and it was getting louder. Within the row of chairs, she felt faint and took an awkward step behind a leg – she had to double over to keep upright. She caught herself, but the room slowed and she finally took it all in. The bodies were not all whole here. The stench was powerful – more effecting than anything she’d accidentally inhaled in the lab. She had to confront something then. Had some part of her had seen all of this? Was she truly in pursuit or was she fleeing?
The sound wrenched its way back in and she heard it clearer now, closer. It screamed, “HELP ME!”