When Midnight Strikes at the Crematorium, a Father Discovers His Daughter-in-Law's Dark Mob Secret Inside the Furnace
👉 Previous choice: You chose Option B – Draw your stun gun, lock the control room door, and call Police Captain Sadowski.
My hand trembled as I keyed the control room door lock. The heavy steel slid into place, the bolt clanking with a hollow finality. I drew my service stun gun, its plastic cold in my grip, and pressed it to my hip. My other hand punched in the number for Police Captain Frank Sadowski.
“Sadowski,” his gruff voice answered, laced with a tired irritation. “What’s the emergency, Arthur?”
“Captain, there’s a live person in furnace three,” I whispered, my voice tight. “And the ignition came from a remote override. Clara’s IP address.”
A pause stretched on the line, long and unnatural. “Stay put, Arthur. Don’t touch anything,” Sadowski said, his voice now devoid of irritation, flat and chilling. “I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, the clatter of a key in the control room door lock made me jump. Sadowski pushed the door open, his face grim. He wasn’t alone, but he was the only one in uniform. Two burly men in dark suits lingered behind him in the hallway.
Sadowski’s hand was already on his service pistol, drawing it from his holster in a fluid motion. The cold muzzle pressed against my temple before I could react.
“Drop it, Arthur,” he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”
My stun gun clattered to the floor. My hands shot up, slowly.
“You really think you’re going to expose something, old man?” Sadowski spat. “This body was supposed to be gone by now. Clean. Complete.”
He nudged me toward the wall, forcing me back against the cold concrete. One of the men from the hall entered, a heavy wrench in his hand. He moved directly to the retort control panel, twisting a knob, then forcing a switch. The deep thrum of the burners roared back to life, louder than before.
Sadowski stepped back, keeping the pistol pointed at my chest. He then pulled out a small, metallic object from his pocket. A USB stick. He inserted it into a port on the local security hard drive. The small drive whirred, then a red light flashed twice before going dark.
“Equipment malfunction,” Sadowski declared to the silent room. “Operator tampering. You’re unstable, Arthur.”
He motioned toward a heavy steel door I rarely used, a small holding cell for violent detainees awaiting transfer. “Get in there. You’ll be making a full statement after the fire’s done its job.”
The two men from the hall grabbed my arms. They shoved me roughly inside the cell, the heavy door clanging shut behind me, the distinct click of a deadbolt echoing in the confined space. The roar of the furnace outside intensified, a hungry sound.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 4: The Silent Furnace to continue the story.
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