by Alex Scarrow
Closer now, she could see that it looked like a bathrobe. There were a number of things placed on the quilted material. Placed carefully, reverentially, almost like exhibits of expensive jewellery, precious found artefacts. But they were just commonplace things; a hair brush, an engraved wristband, a pair of faux antique spectacles, an antique fountain pen. On one corner of the spread-out robe, she spotted a jumble of what appeared to be ID tags. She picked one of them up.
'Jonathan E. Kemble.' She picked up another. 'Dr. Diana J. Sembala.'
The caretaker crew?
Ellie looked at the other carefully placed items and realised that each of them was a personal possession that had once belonged to a member of the team. A keepsake. A memento.
A totem.
She felt her scalp prickling. That uneasy nagging, whispering feeling she'd been about to completely dismiss a minute ago had returned, and now it was screaming at her. She knew what this was. Thanks to Jez she'd seen enough grisly, slasher, serial-killer, horro-drams to figure out what she was looking at.
'Oh, crud,' she gasped softly.
This is some psycho's fregging murder shrine.
TO BE CONTINUED IN…
Episode 5: Ellie Quin At The Gateway
