The Prettiest Girl in the Grave by Kristopher Triana

The Prettiest Girl in the Grave by Kristopher Triana

Author:Kristopher Triana [Triana, Kristopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Horror
ISBN: 9781957504056
Google: G3GczwEACAAJ
Amazon: B0C1HLGCPS
Barnesnoble: B0C1HLGCPS
Goodreads: 124954220
Publisher: Grindhouse Press
Published: 2023-01-01T05:00:00+00:00


SIXTEEN

“LET’S MAKE A GAME OF it,” Holly said.

Bridget and Faith gave her the same confused look. Holly pointed at the three questions etched into the underside of the coffin’s lid.

“Let’s answer them,” she said, smirking. She wasn’t sure why, but she was enjoying this. Bridget had been right. It was creepy, but cool. “Who wants to go first?”

Bridget slowly shook her head. “This is messed up. Who carved that in there?”

“Probably just vandalism,” Faith said, unconvincingly. “We can’t be the first ones to break in here, right?”

Bridget perked up. “Hey, yeah. We need to tag this place. Let ’em know we were here.”

She handed Holly the lighter, drew her spray-paint from her back pocket, and approached the wall, decorating it with her name.

“Maybe Madeline made her mark too,” Holly said. “I think she carved these questions in her coffin.”

“Why would she do that?” Faith asked.

“Think about it. She was trapped in here, eating her parents. She must have gone mad. Maybe she was asking herself these questions because she knew she was going to die. ‘What are you afraid of? Who do you love? What happens when you die?’ These sound like death bed questions to me.”

Faith shuddered. “Please don’t say that.”

“She had to sleep somewhere, so I’ll bet she spent her nights in this coffin. Not that she had much light to know if it was day or night. Time had no meaning down here.”

“Holly, stop!”

Faith glared at her, so Holly quit talking about poor Madeline Goldman and backed away from the casket. Bridget finished spraying and handed her the can, but Holly turned her down. It didn’t seem right to ugly a sacred place, even one with such a history of horror.

“All right,” Bridget said, sounding bored. “I’ll go first. Which one’s the first question again?”

Holly grinned. “Madeline wants to know what you’re afraid of.”

“Oh, please,” Bridget said, scoffing. “I’m not scared of anything.”

The door to the tomb slammed shut.

~

Just looking at the entrance made Holly tremble, and she shoved her hands in her pockets to try to hide it from Sawyer. She felt the pocketknife tucked away in there, giving her a small sense of security. The steps leading down to the tomb—to the labyrinth—were more cracked and chipped than they’d been thirty years ago, but they still held, an open invitation for visitors. In the pit, a broken slate of wood was wedged in the doorway so it was slightly open.

“What the hell is this?” Sawyer asked.

“The tomb. The gateway to the maze.”

He ran his hand over his head. “Shit, Holly.”

“Look, I don’t blame you for doubting me. But I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Okay. So, what do we do?”

Holly bit her bottom lip. Now that Sawyer asked, she wasn’t sure she had the answer. All she had to go on were distant memories she’d spent her whole life trying to suppress. She looked at the open door—a red carpet to Hell, welcoming her home.

“We have to go in,” she said.

“I thought you said a man couldn’t.



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