âIf Iâd known, I would have slapped Moss,â Bennett muttered to himself.
Holden asked Adrian, âAre you okay? How are you feeling now?â
âI feel fine.
I just have a headache,â Adrian replied, massaging his temples.
âWait⦠Whereâs Ariana?â
A flicker of rage ignited in Holdenâs eyes at the mention of Ariana.
He swiftly filled Adrian in on Arianaâs abduction.
The three of them quickly took action, racing towards the sixth-floor basement to save Ariana.
But upon arrival, a new obstacle materialized.
They couldnât get into the ice chamber now.
Through the glass window, they saw Mossâ hunche
d back as he concocted a vile liquid.
Ariana lay unconscious on the metal bed before him.
Holdenâs composure shattered.
He slammed his elbow repeatedly against the glass, his voice hoarse with fury.
âMoss! Stop this! Let her go!â
In a desperate act, he snatched the gun from Bennett and opened fire, but it was futile.
The window was unscathed.
Moss, oblivious to Holdenâs frantic attempts, continued his work.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, he plunged the syringe into Arianaâs arm.
As Moss had expected, Arianaâs body convulsed, and her pale face contorted in agony.
A twisted smile played on Mossâ lips, his eyes fixed on the ice coffin as if his beloved one would revive at any moment.
Outside, Holden pounded his fists against the window, his eyes red with fury as he witnessed Arianaâs suffering, her blood being drained.
But he was unable to do anything.
Holden was plunged into despair.
Frustration gnawed at Adrian.
He wasnât one to sit idly by while Moss enacted his twisted experiment on Ariana.
His eyes scanned the chamber frantically, searching for any hidden mechanism that could grant access.
Each fruitless glance chipped away at his hope, and a string of ragged sighs escaped his lips.
Just as despair threatened to engulf him, a glint of metal caught his eye.
âLook!â he barked, pointing towards the wall beside the chamber.
âThereâs a vent.
Maybe we can crawl through it to reach Ariana.
â
Holden reluctantly tore his gaze from Ariana and looked in the direction Adrian had pointed at.
He weighed Adrianâs suggestion for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought.
âWe donât know where that vent leads,â he said, shaking his head.
âAnd vents are notorious for being cramped and long.
Even if we squeezed through, thereâs no guarantee weâd reach Ariana in time.
â
Adrian understood the logic in Holdenâs words.
The flicker of hope he had nurtured dimmed.
He pivoted, a frown etching his features as he resumed his search.
He clung to a sliver of determination-they had unearthed hidden mechanisms before, they could do it again.