Luke didn't waste ti. He pumped the shotgun and blasted several more rounds around the safe, chewing through the cheap drywall and brick.
Thanks to good old Arican construction, these interior walls had zero rebar—just bricks and plasterboard. Pure cost-cutting.
He slung the shotgun, grabbed the exposed edges of the safe, took a deep breath, and flexed hard.
"Hup!"
With a low grunt he ripped the entire safe straight out of the wall.
Clarice's eyes twitched at the sight.
Was this still human strength?
Luke rolled his shoulders, lifted the safe one-handed to test the weight, then slung it across his back and grabbed Clarice's wrist.
"Move. We're about to get roasted for real."
They sprinted down the stairs.
As they passed the fourteenth floor, Luke caught a glimpse of a shadow flickering past. A sudden chill cut through the blazing heat.
Sothing was wrong.
He kept running and burst out the front doors.
The scene outside was pure chaos.
Luke jogged to a fire truck, twisted open a hose valve, and let the cold water blast the soot and heat off his body.
Nearby, the fire captain was shouting into his radio.
"What the hell is going on? Crank the pressure on every line! Why isn't the fire reacting at all?"
Another firefighter ran up, face black with ash.
"Captain, it's not working! Water hits the flas and just disappears!"
Definitely not normal.
Luke's eyes narrowed. He imdiately thought of the middle-aged man who had been so desperate to get into room 1408.
He scanned the crowd, spotted the hotel manager calming guests, and walked straight over, badge already out.
"Sir, Miami PD. I need information about the room that's on fire."
The manager stared at Luke in shock.
"Officer, you got out that fast?"
Then realization hit and his face shifted.
"You an room 1408?"
He glanced around nervously and pulled Luke into a quiet corner.
"That room doesn't have any big secrets, but for the hotel's reputation we don't talk about it much."
The manager wiped sweat from his forehead, looking almost relieved.
"Since the hotel opened, more than eighty people have died in that room. Now it's burned down. Maybe it'll finally be safe."
Eighty-plus deaths?
Luke still felt sothing was off. That cold sensation on the stairs told him the manager was holding back.
He didn't press. The guy clearly just wanted the problem to go away.
Luke borrowed a gas mask from the firefighters, found Clarice, and said,
"Sothing's wrong on the fourteenth floor. I'm going back up. You stay here and call the station for backup."
Clarice grabbed his arm, eyes wide.
"Isn't that too risky? Can't we wait until the fire's out?"
Luke tapped the tactical vest Marcus had given him and grinned.
"I'll be fine. Perfect chance to test the FBI's new gear—see how fireproof it really is."
He headed back into the burning building.
This ti he moved slower, taking in every detail.
The fourteenth floor was even stranger than he expected.
From outside it looked like an inferno, yet only room 1408 was leaking black smoke from the door crack. The rest of the floor was untouched.
Luke put on the gas mask, tried the handle—locked from the inside.
He blasted the lock with the shotgun and kicked the scorched door wide open.
The mont the door swung inward, the faint chill he'd felt earlier vanished completely.
What he saw inside made him stop cold.
No flas. No burning.
The entire room had been reduced to a charred ruin. Even the windows and outer wall were gone, leaving a massive gaping hole.
The sprinkler system had stopped.
Luke touched the Bible in his jacket for reassurance, then stepped inside carefully.
This place was sliding straight into the supernatural.
A shadow flickered in his peripheral vision again.
"There!"
He lunged toward the bedroom.
He yanked the burned mattress aside—and froze.
Curled beneath it was a charred corpse, hands locked around its own throat in a death grip. The body was riddled with burn holes. Smoke inhalation. No signs of struggle.
Luke didn't hesitate. He pulled out the Bible and began reciting.
A flash of white light burst from the corpse.
There it is.
He read louder, more forcefully.
The panel lit up almost imdiately.
[Holy Recitation: XP 100]
[Holy Recitation LV1 (400/1000)]
[Detected: Host has purified an imprisoned soul]
[Absorbing purified soul energy…]
[Psionic 0.1]
[Na: Luke]
[Physique: 1.9 ( 0.5 0.3 0.1)]
[Psionic: 1.2 ( 0.1 0.1)]
Luke frowned. That was fast.
He looked closer at the corpse's face. Even burned and twisted, he recognized it.
The middle-aged man who had demanded room 1408.
A loud voice from the doorway snapped him out of it.
"Luke, this better be one hell of a case. I was hoping to get ho and beat my kids tonight."
Luke turned. Chief Woody stood there, looking annoyed as he surveyed the blackened room.
"Chief, you ca in person?"
Woody kicked at a piece of charred debris with disgust.
"Had to. Sent everyone else out on calls. You're stuck with . What'd you find?"
Luke pointed at the body.
"One burned victim. No struggle marks. A waiter on the fifteenth floor tried to rob the federal agent's room, got caught, and killed himself."
He quickly summarized the room's grim reputation.
Woody walked over, glanced at the corpse, and snorted.
"Either sobody drugged him or this dump's got shitty renovations."
He raised his boot and casually kicked the nearby partition wall.
Crash!
Plaster and bricks exploded outward, revealing a gaping hole.
Both n stared into the cavity.
Inside the wall, carved deep into the hidden space, was a dense, intricate pattern of eerie symbols.
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