#Chapter 212: The Golden Knife

Moana

One moment, I was in the interrogation room with the police officer sitting across from me.

“Ms. Fowler?” he asked, standing from his seat with a worried look on his face. “Are you alright?”

My eyes were wide and my hands were shaking. I was standing with my back against the wall, feeling as though I couldn’t get a full breath into my lungs. The room felt as though it was closing in on me, and I felt trapped inside like an animal caught in a net.

And then, suddenly, I felt my knees buckle under me. I fell to the ground, and then everything went dark with only Edrick being the very last thing on my mind.

When I woke up, I was in a dark room. In fact, it was pitch black… But when I held my hands up in front of my face, I found that I could see my own hands perfectly. The room itself was black, like a void.

out. My voice felt thick and heavy. There was no echo, and

called out again. This time, after a few minutes of waiting,

familiar female voice said. I immediately

I called out. “What’s happening?” But she didn’t answer. In fact, a long time went by during which I didn’t hear or see anything. It felt like an eternity, but also a split second at the same time. Was I sleeping? Was this just a strange dream? It felt too long and vivid to just be a regular dream… I felt perfectly conscious, not at all

started having flashbacks when he started asking about the specifics of what happened in the warehouse. No matter how hard I tried to stay focused and keep myself level-headed, I couldn’t stop seeing Ethan’s gun in front of my face. At one point, I started to hyperventilate. Yes; that had to be it. I hyperventilated and lost consciousness. Surely any minute now I would wake up and would be safely in Edrick’s arms once again. I never should have agreed to go down to the police station on a whim like that… I

long time passed, and I stayed in the black void. I moved around, or at least I

like to be dead, I thought to myself, then it

suddenly felt someone else’s presence. A sort of presence, at least. I couldn’t tell if I just made it up in my mind or if it was real, and if someone else was here with me. But

the rest of his body came into view as though he was loading into this new instance, like a virtual reality. His neck, then his shoulders, his arms and his chest… Then, eventually, his hands. He was holding something in one of them;

even the blade itself was golden — with an ornate handle that had the head of

side. I felt a gasp catch in my throat and I whirled around to see a sheer drop below me with

you sooner,” Michael’s condescending voice said. I whipped back around to see that he was closer now. The knife was raised, ready to stab me. When I turned around, the tip of the knife was nothing more than a mere

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