The sky darkened. To Lance, it seemed like all the light was being blanketed by evil.
Raindrops dripped onto the windows.
Teardrops, he thought.
Sparrow drew the curtains of all windows on the first floor. The room remained lit only by the haunting glow of candles and the fireplace. Lance stared at the shadows dancing along the walls.
They�re like fingers. Ready to ensnare me.
Sparrow sensed his feelings of despair.
"Don�t worry. You won�t feel so unhappy after �the Process� is completed."
"I DON�T WANT TO UNDERGO THE PROCESS!"
Sparrow narrowed her eyes angrily.
"Shut up!"
Lance momentarily forgot the Master�s threat, and he began to form a plan.
His quietness bothered Sparrow.
"Don�t even try to escape. I can read your mind. Remember?"
Lance ditched the half-raveled formula.
Life�s just not fair, huh Bass? An inner voice mocked.
Something exploded inside of him.
You gonna allow them to steal your body? Don�t waste time. Go for it!
Lance barreled into Sparrow, knocking her against a table. Unfortunately, he�d underestimated the old woman�s strength. Fragility can be a clever disguise.
Lance smashed into the fireplace mantle. While he lay dazed across the rug, he recalled the suffocating heat of the fire burning through his soft cotton shirt.
As he struggled to his elbows and knees, Sparrow�s anger mutated her into her Lost Soul persona. The unexplainable desire for blood overpowered the senses when she walked to Lance.
"I�warned�you�"
Lance scrambled away from the fireplace, past the living room, and into the foyer.
He tried to ignore Sparrow�s savage growling. The pounding of his own heart sounded louder than bongo drums.
Events seemed to be moving in slow motion.
The front door came within reach.
I�m gonna make it!
Sparrow popped up in front of the doorway.
"What�makes�you�think�you�are�leaving�"
Lance screamed and whirled around, dashing toward the main staircase.
At the foot of the steps he halted.
Wait a sec! The Master and his Fear Chamber are up there!
He turned and ran down the short hallway underneath the staircase.
Sparrow could only shake her head at the retreating figure.
"Go�ahead�and�run�Lance�you�can�t�hide�"
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"Help! Help! HELP!"
His voice grew hoarse with each pitiful cry.
JC couldn�t see a thing inside the blackened prison. The thrill of being alive lasted shortly.
A sliver of dim light leaked under the door crack.
JC crawled to the door, each movement strained.
"Gotta�keep going�Gotta keep�going."
Weak, he pushed against the dungeon door. The attempts failed miserably.
Distant footsteps pattered along the floor.
A dress hem shadowed the light.
A female hissed, "Be quiet if you know what�s good for you."
JC kicked at the rat that scurried over his ankle.
"Please let me go," he whispered.
"I can�t. It isn�t within my power."
"You don�t have to tell anyone."
"My master will know, and for such betrayal I�ll face dire punishment."
Dorothy turned to leave.
"Why should something like that matter?" JC shouted, "You died 300 years ago. What kind of life is this? Submitting to a demon, murdering innocent people, ruining lives? What�s so wonderful about it? Huh? Huh?! Answer me!"
Dorothy stopped. There is no answer.
"I wasn�t given a choice," she answered softly, "The Master converted me against my consent. You�ll never begin to understand my torment."
"So why force innocents to share it?!"
"There�s no other choice."
"Is that your universally stupid excuse?"
"I�m not making excuses."
"Liar! You�re afraid!"
Dorothy spun around. Her eyes flashed.
"What?"
"You Lost Souls pretend to be mighty and superior, but the only strength you possess comes from your master. Without him you�d be nothing. You pretend to be equals to your master, but you�re more afraid of that demon then I am. Coward!"
"Don�t call me that!"
"Coward! Coward!"
Dorothy�s hands covered her ears. "STOP IT!"
"COWARD COWARD COWARD COWARD COWARD!"
Dorothy ripped the bolt off. She wildly tore at the wood.
"That�s it! I�m coming in after you!"