Her brother had pulled what was left of his mask from what was left of his face. She almost couldn't stand to look at it: one eye gone, one side of his face pulped and still shining with dozens of ball bearings and metal shards. Tommy's mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, and she knew he was seeing it, too. That he saw the table and knew what she knew – what they all knew – that this wasn't any kind of accident. Not just the trap on the stairs or the explosion Rob had caused by turning on the "lights." This room itself was waiting for them. Had been prepared for them all by someone whose purposes she couldn't even begin to guess. "No," he finally managed. "No way." He struggled to roll over, going to hands and knees before pushing himself into an upright kneel. He tried to rise to his feet but seemed to have forgotten the injured leg. He put that foot down first, then cried out as the leg buckled under him. He pitched forward, and Kayla barely managed to get under his arm and keep him from falling to the floor.
What do You think about The House That Death Built?
