Page 10 of Unholy Masks

Ryden splashed water on Enzo’s face when Irene stumbled in, eyes wide. She stopped when she saw me, before she whirled toward Enzo in the coffin.

“What the hell happened to—” she bit out. “Was it the Strangler?” She looked at me, her eyes narrowed—the look in her eyes was an accusation.

“Where did you go? I told you to stay in.”

“I need to eat. We need to eat. I was out buying groceries,” she said, her voice clipped. “I can’t continue this way.”

I poured the water down Enzo’s face—splashing wasn’t helping. I gave him CPR.

After a few more seconds, Enzo woke up, coughing and gasping.

“Irene?” he mumbled, glancing around. “You’re okay. I was worried.”

She grimaced as she knelt. “I’m okay. And you’re in no position to worry about me. Fool.”

“Ryden,” he whispered, looking up. “Are you…”

“I’m okay. As Irene said, you should worry about yourself.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I don’t remember.” Enzo frowned. “Why can’t I remember anything?” He rubbed his head with a groan.

Ryden narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“How the hell did you end up in the furnace, Enzo?”

“I have no idea. It’s not like—I got cold and thought I’d cozy up in the nearest cremation chamber.” His smile was tired. “I definitely didn’t decide to use the coffin as my… sleeping quarters.”

Irene slapped his shoulder with a curse, and Enzo groaned.

“Not funny, Enzo,” Ryden snapped. “This isn’t the time to joke around. You almost died.”

Enzo smile slipped. He pushed himself up, wincing as he sat inside the wooden coffin. Irene looked at him, eyes never leaving him.

“I know, I know. But you look like you’re ready to explode, and I…”

Ryden scoffed. “That’s because I am.” He took a breath, his jaw tightening. “You realize you could have been burned alive in there, right?” Ryden swiped his hand down his face.

Enzo’s smile faded entirely. “Believe me, I got that part. I’m scared, Ryden, but I’m trying not to fall apart.”

Ryden’s hand tightened into a fist. “Come out of that stupid coffin.” He grabbed Enzo’s hand and pulled him up. “Irene, close the cremation chamber. The fire will die down inside. Let’s get out of here.”

We went back to the funeral home and sat down on the wooden chairs scattered around.

The floor was littered with bottled juices, oranges, and cherry tomatoes. Irene must have thrown it down when she realized Enzo was in danger.

“Do you remember anything?”

Enzo hesitated, glancing down. “I don’t remember… I remember opening the door, thinking it was Irene, and then everything went dark. Next thing I knew, I woke up to you guys looking like you’d seen a ghost.” He let out a breath. “Look, I get it. This is serious. But you, with your grim face—you’re scaring me, Ryden.”

“Can you blame me?” Ryden cut in, trying to keep his voice steady and failing. I saw the desperation, the fear. “You were locked in a coffin inside a furnace. Luckily, you’re even breathing right now.”

“Is it the Strangler?”

“It is. He is going to kill Sister Serena unless I save her first. Or he has already killed her,” I said, telling them about the elaborate games.

Enzo’s eyes narrowed, and Irene stiffened next to him.