Chef Hatchet stood frozen in the blood-streaked control room, staring at the lifeless monitors. Chris's severed head still stared back from the floor, eyes glassy, mouth frozen in that eternal half-smirk. The silence was deafening—no hum of announcements, no sadistic commentary, just the low mechanical drone of the maze continuing its deadly work without a master.
Chef grabbed the microphone from the console, thumbed the switch, and leaned in close.
"Attention, contestants. This is Chef Hatchet. The challenge is—"
Static. Nothing. The red "ON" light didn't even flicker.
He slammed the mic down so hard the stand bent. "Damn it!"
His massive chest heaved. He took one long, shuddering breath, then another. Then he made up his mind.
He couldn't stay here babysitting a corpse while kids died out there. Not anymore.
Chef yanked open the control room door and stormed into the access corridor. The maze maintenance tunnels were narrow, dimly lit by emergency strips, but he knew every inch of this place—he'd helped build half of it. His boots pounded against the grated floor as he headed straight for the nearest service hatch into the main labyrinth.
Meanwhile, deeper in the maze, Leshawna, Harold, and Izzy were fighting for their lives.
A wall panel had slid open without warning, revealing a row of glowing red emitters. Laser beams sliced through the air in crisscross patterns—thin, silent, lethal. One wrong step and you'd be carved into pieces.
"Move! MOVE!" Leshawna shouted, shoving Harold forward as a beam scorched the wall inches behind them.
Harold's lanky arms flailed. "I got this! I got this!" He grabbed Leshawna's wrist and yanked her sideways just as another beam swept past where her head had been a second earlier.
Izzy, grinning like a maniac despite the sweat pouring down her face, spotted a loose metal panel on the opposite wall. "Hey! Magnetic distraction time!"
She ripped it free with surprising strength, held it up like a shield, and angled it perfectly. The next laser hit the panel—reflected—and shot straight back at the emitter array. Sparks flew. Circuits fried. The entire laser grid sputtered, smoked, and died with a pathetic whine.
The corridor went dark for a second, then the red emergency lights kicked back in.
Leshawna let out a huge breath, hands on her knees. "Girl… you just saved our asses."
Harold adjusted his glasses, still shaking. "That was… statistically improbable. But awesome."
Izzy collapsed dramatically onto the floor, arms spread wide, panting. "Izzy wins again! Take that, death beams!"
They were still catching their breath when heavy footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.
Chef Hatchet emerged from the shadows, breathing hard, face grim.
The three of them froze.
"Chef?" Leshawna straightened up, eyes narrowing. "Where the hell is Chris? And why ain't nobody talkin' on the speakers?"
Chef stopped a few feet away. His voice was low, rough, like gravel.
"Chris is dead."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Harold blinked. "Wait… what?"
"Dead," Chef repeated. "One of the old maze modules turned on him. Took his head clean off. Right in front of me."
Izzy sat up slowly, grin fading for the first time. "For real?"
Leshawna crossed her arms, but her voice cracked just a little. "So… this whole thing? The traps gettin' worse? The silence? That's because the host is gone?"
Chef nodded once. "The system's on autopilot now. Modules activating on their own. Someone—or something—reached in and flipped switches that shouldn't have been touched. I tried the comms. Nothing works. I came down here myself because… you kids need to know. This ain't a game anymore. It's survival."
Harold swallowed hard. "So… we're trapped with no way out?"
"Not if we move fast," Chef said. "I know the service tunnels. But the main paths are collapsing. We gotta find the others before—"
He cut off. Somewhere deeper in the maze, a distant explosion rumbled through the walls.
Chef's jaw tightened. "That wasn't good."
At the far end of the labyrinth, Zeke, Courtney, and Gwen were closer to escape than anyone realized.
They had navigated through collapsing floors, spiked pits, and pressure-triggered gas vents. Now only one final stretch remained: a long, narrow hallway with smooth metal walls.
Zeke walked point, eyes scanning every shadow.
Courtney stayed close behind him, unusually quiet. Gwen flanked her other side, gripping her flashlight like a weapon.
Then Zeke froze.
"Stop."
He didn't shout. Just held up a hand.
A faint metallic hiss came from the left wall—tiny holes opening along the seam.
"DOWN!"
Zeke lunged, throwing himself sideways. His arms wrapped around both girls as he tackled them to the floor.
A split second later, dozens of poisoned darts erupted from the wall in a deadly fan pattern—right where their heads had been.
The darts clattered harmlessly against the opposite wall, sticking in the metal like angry porcupine quills. A sickly green liquid dripped from the tips.
Courtney's breath came in short, sharp gasps. She didn't speak. Just wrapped her arms around Zeke's neck and buried her face in his shoulder.
Gwen did the same from the other side, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in the world.
None of them moved for several long seconds.
Zeke's voice was barely a whisper. "You okay?"
Courtney nodded against his neck, tears soaking his shirt. She couldn't speak—words wouldn't come.
Gwen managed a shaky laugh that turned into a sob. "If you hadn't seen that… we'd be gone. Just… gone."
Zeke held them both tighter. "I'm not letting that happen. Not to either of you."
Above them, the dart holes sealed shut again. The hallway went quiet.
But the maze wasn't done.
And somewhere, Chef Hatchet was leading a small group toward the heart of the nightmare—knowing the truth was out, but the real horror was only beginning.