Suddenly, Charlie was back in the past, like a vortex had appeared and sucked her up then spit her out in the worst moment of her life. The basement of that old, empty house. In the basement, alone. No, someone else was there-

But here she was, standing in a room full of knives and jagged metal scraps, being toyed with by a psycho who hides behind a camera and a microphone.

"Where did you get this," Charlie demanded. The waves of memories were washing over her, but she fought them, like a stone in troubled water. Soaked, but standing strong. It was much heavier than she would have thought given its size. It looked so much smaller now. Probably because she had been small the last time she saw it. She knew where he got it. Her voice came out in a breathless whisper. "Jack."

"You remembered me," he said icily. "I'm touched."

"Screw you, Jack."

"I tried once," he said, reminiscing. "I was too young then. Foolish. I won't disappoint you this time."

Charlie felt heat rise to her face, felt her hands tremble. "I'm not the same girl I was then. If you even try, I'll cut it off with this!" She held out the pocket knife, then smirked at it. "It's probably just the right size."

"Bitch!" he shouted. "You're going to scream, just like Shay. Gullible, sweet Shay. She was so easy, just like you were the first time..."

"Shut up!"

"Would you like to ask her? She passed out from pain, but I can wake her-"

"Leave her alone!" Charlie screamed so loud that her voice seemed to shake the walls.

"Then come and fucking make me!" he dared.

She heard a click. Silence.

"Hey!" she said, and was met with more silence.

Loud clinks came from the hall, then the sound of metal sliding against metal. Chains. Charlie ran for the door. The chain link door in the hallway was swinging open. Someone in a thin tan jacket and faded blue baseball hat was locking the other one. Charlie knew it was Jack. No way would he trust someone else here. He likes to be alone. She knew that.

"Too afraid to face me?"

"And ruin the fun?" His voice came to her in a whisper through the speakers.

It chilled her to the bone. She was shivering on the inside, but she couldn't let him know. She knew how to handle him. Bravery. He hated it. He had hated the brave neighbor girl, Amy, so much when they were kids. Amy scared him away, and now Charlie would too. For Shay. She ran to the other gate, where it stopped her from going after him. He walked down the hallway and turned a corner out of sight.

"No, come back! Coward!" she screamed after him.

He was gone. The chain links rattled as she shook it out of frustration. She'd faced him and he slipped away. She faced her childhood nightmare. She felt herself crack. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she wiped them away quickly. He's watching somehow, she knew. Be brave.

Two new doors were now uncovered on either side of the hallway. More terrifying mysteries lay beyond.

Don't think just keep going, she thought. Focus on the task. The faster she got this done, the faster she would get out of there. The sooner she would get to Shay. She must be hurt pretty bad if she really had fainted from her injuries. Charlie felt her gut wrench. Please be okay...

She tried the door on the left. It wouldn't budge. The door on the right was locked up tight, too. She didn't like the way it smelled near either door, but the right one was worse. Like a garbage dumpster next to a urinal, where both had been baking in the sun.

Click.

She swung around to see the left door had popped open an inch. Her hand shook as she reached for it. A few of her nails had broken off to the quick. They stung. Some blood had even seeped out and settled along the side of her nail.

She stepped into an old bedroom. Or at least, at one point it might have been a bedroom. Now it was grimy and every piece of furniture in it was beyond use. An old bed on the floor with torn, practically shredded blankets piled atop. It stunk like a dead horse. The walls were stained dark in large spots. Slices and tiny holes were everywhere, as though someone had been practicing with a sword in there. Dingy clothes lay in piles along the dirty floor. In one corner stood an old wooden box, big enough for Charlie to climb into.

"Find the key to the next door," Jack said from the speaker.

Charlie's eyes settled immediately on the box. If something is hidden, it will probably be there, she thought. But she couldn't be sure. There were various pairs of jeans on the floor and either one could have a key tucked away in a pocket. Nah, that would be too easy.

She went to the box.

Please, please, don't let anything jump out at me, she thought. Her breaths had stopped in her anticipation, while she lived the lid.

Nothing jumped out. She let out her breath. It was just a bunch of old pet collars. A small pink one that said Muffy on the tag. A big blue one that said Buttercup. A grey one that said Rocket...with curious maroon stains on it. Some had no name.

Then the contents got stranger.

Little strips of hair. All shades of browns, blondes, reds, some crusted with-

"Ah!" Charlie cried as she realized she was holding bloody hair.

She dropped it back in the box and it fell on a piece of plastic. Bending over, she could see it was an ID. Carol Zinger. A college campus ID of a young brunette. Charlie's chest tightened as she noticed the other IDs. She plunged her hand back inside and scattered through them, shoving them around to uncover more. Some were splattered with their owner's blood and some weren't. All were teens or young adults, between seventeen and twenty seven.

"Did you-" her voice caught and she had to start again. "Did you h-hurt these women, Jack?"

"I did," he confessed.

Charlie swallowed hard. "Did you kill them?"