Chapter 20 - The Child in the Darkness
The laughter echoed only once.
Then silence swallowed the underground archive.
Nobody breathed.
Nobody moved.
The emergency lights failed to activate.
Only the distant ringing in everyone's ears remained after the sudden blackout.
Daniel Voss tightened his grip on the pistol.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
The beam from Olivia's small penlight flickered weakly, illuminating only a few feet ahead.
Dust floated through the air like tiny stars.
Richard stood perfectly still.
His eyes were fixed on a point far beyond the reach of the light.
Then another sound drifted through the darkness.
Footsteps.
Small footsteps.
Bare feet against cold concrete.
Emily whispered, "That's impossible..."
Elizabeth slowly shook her head.
"Listen carefully."
The footsteps circled the room.
Not hurried.
Not frightened.
Almost playful.
Then they stopped beside one of the shelves.
A tiny voice spoke.
"You're standing in my place."
Olivia slowly turned.
A little girl, no older than eight, stood in the darkness.
Her white hospital gown looked decades old.
Her hair fell over one side of her face.
She wasn't transparent.
She wasn't glowing.
She looked completely real.
Emily immediately stepped toward her.
"Sweetheart... how did you get down here?"
The little girl didn't answer.
Instead, she looked directly at Richard.
"You came back."
Richard slowly approached.
He wagged his tail exactly once before gently touching his nose against the girl's hand.
Elizabeth covered her mouth.
"He remembers her..."
Margaret stared in disbelief.
"No..."
"It can't be..."
The girl smiled faintly.
"You used to bring me biscuits."
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
"My God..."
"I was twenty-six."
The child nodded.
"You cried when they took me away."
Daniel Voss suddenly shouted.
"Enough!"
He switched on a powerful tactical flashlight.
Its bright beam flooded the chamber.
Everyone instinctively shielded their eyes.
When the light settled...
The little girl had disappeared.
Only a small cloth doll remained on the floor where she had stood.
Richard carefully picked it up.
A name had been stitched into the doll's faded dress.
ANNA
Elizabeth whispered,
May you like
"She was the first."
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