Chapter Six

And now I see the ploy to get young girls dosed, which was disguised by a contest with a prize that everyone wanted. For a moment, the first thought that comes to mind is: 'thank God, I didn't enter.' However, I soon realize that whether I entered or not, I was still in the dark room. He somehow still got me and doesn't even realize what he did because technically, nothing happened. I erased my own torture but not the memories of it, or the scars.

It doesn't matter about that now. Rachel is safe but other girls aren't, I'm not, unless he's put behind bars. Kate, poor Kate, isn't safe. I approach the two for the second time, I had to rewind the first because I vomited in the trash can when he said my name. "Am I, uh, interrupting?" I say, hugging my body and shielding my body from his predatory gaze.

"Yes," Victoria says, venom seeps through her voice and poisons the air as she speaks. "You are."

For a moment, there is a crack in Jefferson's facade. He's visibly irritated, the corners of his mouth twitch as he tries to regain his smile. He never liked Victoria, he is incapable of liking anyone. He doesn't understand what emotion is. "No, you aren't interrupting anything, Max," he says gently, sick slowly creeps back up through my throat. "I'd never let one of photography's future stars avoid handing in her picture."

"I'm not avoiding." I say with a tone of finality. "It's an optional contest and I don't want to do it."

I see red, my body is alive with adrenaline again. This time I'm not running away, I'm fighting. I see he's angry too, all because he wants me for his sick photo shoots. Well, fuck you, Jefferson. I'm going to save everyone I can, everyone that I love, and bring you down. "Well, I'm disappointed," he sighs. "I hope you hand in a picture, Max, but go on, don't let me stop you."

Taking his invitation to leave, I turn, feeling his eyes bore into my back, to exit the classroom. As the door opens, I'm hit with a wave of noise and it all seems too much. People talk and talk, trying to raise their voices to compete with each other. I see Chloe and Rachel, standing near the lockers. "Max, are you okay?" Chloe asks, concern in her voice. "You look kinda pale."

I just talked to the person who-

Since Rachel never disappeared, Chloe never ran into Nathan? Another reason why I made the right decision, Chloe wasn't drugged or, possibly, felt this time around. She didn't have to go through anything like I did. Suddenly, though, it doesn't seem real. "I'm fine," I pause, looking down the hallway as an idea comes to mind. "Hey, I'll catch you guys later. Okay?"

"'Kay," Rachel smiles, looping her arm through Chloe's. "Get some rest, Max. Sleep up and feel better."

The two walk away with their arms intertwined and smiles on their faces, this scene reminds me again that I made the right choice. Chloe's happiness is worth more than mine and it always will, she's my best friend. I'd do anything for her and now, I'd do anything for Rachel or Warren. I follow the two half the way and then turn right and into the girl's bathroom. My idea. I have to do it.

Past the cubicles, there is a fire alarm. I slam into it with the tool I know is under the washing supplies, I've done this before. The alarm starts to wail through the hallways and I run out to see David, the guy I wanted, ushering everybody out. I approach him and pull him to the side. "Oh, Max," he says. "You should be outside."

"I know what you're investigating, David." I state. "And I've got lots and lots of information to end the case so I want in. Follow me and I'll tell you."

For a moment, after trying to absorb all the information I just told him, he just stands there with a disgusted expression on his face. He's not sure what to feel; I can tell because I was unsure, too. If I'm not happy with what he says, I'll rewind. All too often, the bad guys had clever disguises. I'm more street smart now than I was before. "If Jefferson and Nathan," the words, which roll of his tongue, now seem tainted by the information. "are here, then the bunker will be empty. I'm going."

"No, we're going," I correct. "I need to make sure you won't destroy the evidence, David."

His eyebrows arch, much like Chloe's do when she's confused, as he tries to understand my logic. "Why would I do that?" He asks, folding his arms as he stares at me.

"Because all of the bad guys have been people I've trusted and I'm tired of finding out too late that I can't trust them at all," I answer.

There wasn't anything unfamiliar about the drugs Jefferson medicated me with, put me to sleep with. My body had become welcoming to them, inviting the feeling of sleep and numbness because I had become too tired of pushing it away and resisting it. That was what the dark room did to you. I had been in there half a day but it felt like years.

However, what was strange was that I was alone. I opened my eyes slowly, they still felt heavy, to see that no one, not even Nathan, was around. The only person was Victoria, who was also tied to a chair, but she was sleeping. The only thing I had heard was the gentle vibrating sound, a phone tapping against a surface. I looked immediately at the desk to see my cell phone.

With all my strength, I stood with the chair and let my weary body struggle. "Focus, Max," I whispered to myself. Words of encouragement. "You can do this, one step after the other."

Tears streamed down my face as the phone was in my reach, I had done it. The feeling that I might be saved overcame me and I used my nose to answer the call. "Max? Where are you?" He asked, worried. "No one has seen you, Victoria has gone missing and you've gone missing and-"

"Warren, I need you to focus," I said and told him the address of the dark room. "Bring a shitload of police and David. Please, Warren, please." I cried, sobs racked through my body.

"Max-" Suddenly I heard footsteps leading down into the bunker, the pressing of the buttons to open the large door.

"Warren, please be quiet, sh."

I waddled back to my place in time and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Please don't notice me. I panicked, my heart beat had rose as high as it could. I felt his fingers brush against my soft skin, trailing down towards my neck. "I know you're not asleep."

The farm house, the one I was contained in, is before me and my body reacts as you think it would. I panic, I want to go back but I can't. I need to do this. "Do you have a gun?" I ask David. "Because they have and it might come down to that, you know?"

He nods and I follow him into the barn, strong scents of decaying wood hit me and I hope that nothing else here is decaying, too. I show him the door and the stairs leading down. That's when it really hits me, breaths become hard to take and I am frozen. "L-let's go," I say and walk down, with his help. I tell him the code to the door and watch it open.

The torture room.

I head straight for the folders, deciding that if I powered through it, I'd be alright. Sadness. I'm so sad. Rage. I'm so angry. Humiliation. I'm embarrassed. When I turn around with the red binders, I see David looking at the desk. At a bottle of drink. "What is it?" I ask, confused.

"You have to have a distinct taste to like that," he states.

"And?"

"It tastes like shit and the only one who likes it is Principal Wells."

In the dark room, under the intense, bright light, you learned to pay attention to the voices you heard rather than the things you saw. With the drugs, you never knew what to expect and what'd you hallucinate.

I heard Jefferson in the other room, squabbling with a voice that didn't belong to Nathan. It was strange. Usually only Jefferson and Nathan came here, there had been no other man.

He sounded older and as he walked closer, I could hear the distinct gruff in his voice. He sounded drunk. "I want her pictures."

"Principal Wells is the one," I whisper. "David, you're right. He's here. He's a part of this thing. I'm so stupid, God!"

After my outburst, David and I search silently for other things. I look through the red binders, scanning for victims I recognize or places that, well, they may have ended up. These are people I know I couldn't save but somehow, I still feel so incredibly guilty. My stomach churns as I look at the next victim and it hits me that I haven't changed anything. Rachel as been replaced with a girl named Clementine. "David, in the junkyard, there is a body under one specific point," I sob, my hand flying to my mouth. "I can't go with you but it looks like this girl is being put in the ground."

I'm so fucking stupid.

Ugh, Max!

When I leave, I go back to my dorms. I told David that if he finds anything, which I know he will, he needs to phone me immediately and let me know; I've gave him his clues and he should help me. He tried to ask where I knew all of this but I said it was complicated, I didn't want to go over it now. He drove me back to Blackwell and I sulked all the way up here.

I approach my door, only to see him in front of it. Warren. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I smile, wiping away the water from my cheeks. I had cried a lot.

"Chloe told me you were ill," he smiles and holds up food and a movie. I grin, laughing a little.

You haven't changed, Warren. I like that.