I put my back against the wall and follow it slowly to the door. the doors open just a crack, a small sliver of light is shining at the far end of the room. my mouth goes dry, is there someone else here? is this the person that moved Mr .Hobart? is this the person who has tortured the poor innocent boy? my mind starts racing, filling with all kinds of disturbing thoughts. (i find it's been doing that a lot lately).

I've always had this kind of extra sense, it's like a warning bell that goes of in my head. it only appears when something bad is about to happen, and at this precise moment it's ringing like mad. like the bell ringer is Quasimodo and he's of his deformed little face on speed. the crazy ideas come rushing back and i struggle to push them to the back of my mind. i need to be in control, i need to focus. i take a few deep breathes as quietly as i can. i need to know whats on the other side of the door. yes thats it! an idea not great but the only one I've got.

i make my way back to the bathroom as quickly as i can, eager to get out of here and out this place behind me. i take a piece of the broken mirror and make my way back to the torture chamber. i take the duct tape out of my jacket pocket, i always carry it in case i need to tie my targets up. yes your right i used to be a boyscout, always be prepared. it's a good job as well as being prepared has got me of more than a few awkward situations. i fasten the mirror to a small iron bar i find. as quietly as i can i slide the bar through the gap in the door. i have to force the door open a touch more and it resists squeaking as i push it. i stop and listen hoping that no one was on the other side to hear. after a few seconds of silence i position the mirror on a stick so that i can see the room. it  provides a good view and shows the room empty, except for a desk and a stool

i slowly push the door open to more protest and more noise, i slip through the small opening I've made and take a second to take in my surroundings. the room is dark the only light coming from the far end of the room. it looks like its coming from underneath a door. i make my way to the desk, it has three small compartments and a pile of paper on top. curiosity got the better of me and i sift through the papers. i can not believe my eyes. what am i looking at? 

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