The cheese-grater? No.

The garlic crusher? No.

The skillet? Yes.

She eased the heavy iron skillet off its hook. Brandishing it before her, she padded warily along the kitchen aisle feeling slightly more at ease.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ she uttered. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

Suddenly someone was right next to her. She jumped back in shock, holding the skillet up in front of her, but then she realised that it was just her own reflection in the steel door of one of the refrigerators, warped by the slightly bowed surface of the metal into a grotesque caricature.

She sighed in frustration, lowered the skillet and turned away. She didn’t like this game any more. It was starting to make her feel almost… frightened. She tightened her grip on the handle of the skillet, her palms sweating.

Suddenly, it became obvious who was in here. It must be the person she was supposed to meet. They had got here even earlier than she had with the aim of trying to unnerve her, trying to get the upper hand. Well, she wasn’t that easy to rattle.

‘I know your secret,’ she said. ‘I know what you’re up to. Sharon knows exactly—’

A pair of black leather-gloved hands shot out from underneath the kitchen counter and wrenched her feet away. She crashed forwards onto the tiled floor. The skillet flew from her hand and clattered away out of reach.

She lay there stunned for a moment. Then she tried to get up. But whoever had tripped her up now rolled out from under the counter and jumped onto her back, their weight pinning her to the floor. She gasped, winded.

A hand grabbed her hair and viciously yanked her head back. Then she felt a sharp biting sensation at the top of her forehead as a blade began to slice into the flesh, cutting its way upwards.

The sharp burning pain was beyond anything that she had ever experienced. With a colossal lurch of horror, she realised what was happening to her. She was being murdered. Just like the others!

Still too winded to scream, she could only flail and struggle as the knife sawed away at her scalp, scraping over the bone of her skull, making a ghastly scratching noise unlike anything she’d ever heard before. Blood poured down her face, hot and wet, getting in her eyes, running into her gasping open mouth, filling her throat with its iron tang, making her choke. And then the blade sliced through the last remaining shreds of flesh, severing her scalp completely.

Her bleeding head jerked forward, released from the grip, and finally she managed to catch her breath. Evacuating all the pent-up terror inside her, she ejected a shrill penetrating scream. She drew her breath to scream again, but before she could do so the knife sliced deep into her windpipe, severing her vocal cords and silencing her forever.

Chapter 62

Crazy Mel’s bloodshot eyes popped wide open at the sound of the scream. She clenched her fists, her entire body stiffening in response to the awful sound that had just ripped through the smoky cell.