Chapter 8 - The Cornered Family
The heavy steel door of the maintenance shed violently kicked open, crashing loudly against the concrete wall.
Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the overcast daylight, was Chief Miller.
The corrupt police chief wasn't smiling anymore. His arrogant, sympathetic facade had completely, violently vanished. His face was twisted into a terrifying mask of pure, demonic malice. He was holding his heavy, suppressed service pistol, aiming it directly at Owen’s chest.
"I thought I saw a ghost," Miller sneered, his voice dripping with cruel, toxic condescension. He stepped into the shed, kicking the door shut behind him.
He had noticed Owen slipping away and had quietly followed his tracks through the wet grass.
"It's over, Miller," Owen stated flawlessly, gripping the heavy crowbar, entirely devoid of fear. "You aren't walking out of this cemetery."
Miller laughed, a dark, sickening sound that echoed in the dusty room.
"I'm the Chief of Police, Owen," Miller mocked arrogantly, leveling the gun at Clara. "I can walk out of anywhere. You know how this plays out? A tragic, random mugging at the cemetery. The grieving father and son killed by a desperate junkie. And Clara? She just goes right back into the empty box I paid for."
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Miller pulled the hammer back on his pistol with a loud, metallic click. "Give me the flash drive, Clara. And I promise I'll make it quick for the kid."
👉 What mind-blowing, highly calculated trap did the wife set?
