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of coffins stretched out before him, an eerie maze of death. They came in all shapes, sizes and materials: wood, metal, and even fiberglass. Some were elaborately adorned while others appeared simple and basic.  
    This place was a museum dedicated to the art of coffin making.  
    Inhaling deeply to stave off his fear, Travis stumbled through the grotesque labyrinth, shaken by the morbid, surreal setting. He needed to find a way out.  
    His searching gaze paused on an exotic glass sarcophagus. The outline of a man was barely discernible inside the coffin.  
    Fighting back his terror, he approached the glass sarcophagus and caught a better look at the figure resting inside. Sunken, waxy features indifferently regarded the world, the skin covered by a thin veneer of paint, which gave the body a doll-like quality. But this was no doll; this man had once been alive. Another horrible idea occurred to him. What if this corpse wasn’t the only one? What if every one of these coffins contained a preserved body?  
    A voice in his head told him to keep moving, but instead he closed in on the nearest casket, its faux-gold handles gleaming in the milky light filtering into the warehouse. Giving himself an internal push, Travis opened the lid and froze. The mummified remains of a woman stared back at him. Her empty eye sockets bored into Travis as if she blamed him for her horrific state.  
    That did it. He’d seen enough…  
    Travis whirled and ran. There had to be an exit somewhere.  
    Behind him, he heard a noise. He slowed, his panicked gaze combing the warehouse.
    Was that movement behind a row of caskets?
    More footsteps echoed in the warehouse. They seemed to come from different sides of the labyrinth. That meant more than one person was stalking him. What sick game were these freaks playing?
    No time to dwell on it. Travis kept moving, trying to be as noiseless as possible as he navigated the maze. His mind grew blank as he arrived at the center of the warehouse, where another surreal sight awaited. A rectangular stretch of soil dominated the space, the cement floor giving way to a large patch of earth, about twenty feet long and ten feet wide. An ancient looking wooden casket rested in the middle of the plot, right next to an open grave.  
    Something almost indefinable set this coffin apart from the others, a timeless, primal quality, almost as if it originated from another world. Strange symbols and sigils lined the coffin’s rough-hewn, organic-looking surface. The casket seemed imbued with unnatural life, almost as if it had been constructed from flesh and bone instead of wood. Travis’ skin grew clammy and bile rose in his throat, the coffin’s malevolent energy triggering a physical response. Acid churned in his gut.
    Another sound made Travis spin around.  
    This time he caught a glimpse of one of his stalkers. A massive individual, built like a professional wrestler. The man was bald, his square head the size of a bowling ball with rough-hewn, almost malformed features. He looked like he belonged to a different species of human, a missing step in the evolutionary ladder perhaps. Travis’ heart thrashed against his ribcage as he spotted the pistol in the man’s grubby paw.
    More sounds rang out behind him, and two other figures peeled from the shadows of the coffins. One was tall and rail-thin, his hollow eyes regarding Travis with no emotion. The man next to him was normal-sized, but his pockmarked face held the same empty, soulless expression. The two men were dressed in expensive black suits, their polished exterior heightening instead of lessening their inherent savageness. Travis sensed these men hurt people for a living and weren’t fazed by much in this world. They carried their brutality like a badge of honor.
    Another pair of footsteps cut through the warehouse. He turned and saw an old, wizened creature approaching. The ringleader behind the freak show. Immaculately dressed, projecting wealth and