The room was silent, but in my head, the whistling penetrated my brain like nails on a chalk board. I looked down on the mirror, dropped to my knees and began wrapping up the relic in haste. I didn’t yet know what my intentions were. There was no plan, only instinct. I knew that I must leave this house immediately, and with the relic under arm. I climbed the ladder, tossing the mirror onto the top and then followed it out of the hole. I looked down at the moist walls. I wondered what had happened to Carl. I tested by whispering Carls name. Jack was dead, for now, so I didn’t want to wake him too early. This was my time now, however little advantage I had. I climbed the stairs that lead out of the basement, stepping over Jacks body. It did resemble him now, his true self, his younger self. And for a brief moment, I actually had sympathy for him. Blood bubbled from the cavity in his head and emitted a peculiar sticky sound. It forced vomit to the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down.
