The laughter stopped.

That was somehow worse than hearing it.

Nora stood behind the counter, staring at the steaming cup of black coffee.

Evan stood beside her, holding a chair like a sword.

The faceless man remained near the door.

Outside, Detective Bell’s police car waited across the street.

Nobody moved.

Finally, Evan whispered, “I have a question.”

Nora didn’t look at him.

“What?”

“Why is the coffee machine still working?”

Nora slowly turned toward it.

The machine had switched itself off.

“It’s not.”

Evan looked at the machine.

Then at the cup.

“Then who made the coffee?”

Nora didn’t answer.

The faceless man raised one hand.

He pointed at the cup.

Then at Nora.

Nora stepped backward.

“No.”

The man pointed again.

“No.”

He pointed toward the cup.

“No!”

Evan nodded seriously.

“She has made her position very clear.”

Nora glared at him.

“Thank you.”

The man suddenly reached inside his coat.

Evan raised the chair.

“Don’t.”

The man pulled out a folded newspaper.

He placed it on the counter.

Then he stepped backward.

Nora looked at the newspaper.

The headline was impossible.

LOCAL WOMAN DIES AFTER DRINKING COFFEE

The date was tomorrow.

Nora’s hands went cold.

She looked at Evan.

“That’s my café.”

Evan stared at the newspaper.

“That’s tomorrow’s newspaper.”

“I know.”

“And…”

He pointed at the photograph beneath the headline.

Nora looked.

The photograph showed a woman sitting at the café counter.

Her face was turned toward the camera.

It was Nora.

She dropped the newspaper.

The faceless man suddenly ran toward the door.

Evan shouted, “Stop!”

He chased him.

Nora followed.

The man opened the door and disappeared into the rain.

Evan reached the street.

Nothing.

No footsteps.

No figure.

Only rain.

He turned around.

“Nora!”

She ran outside.

“What?”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know.”

They searched the street.

Nothing.

Then Nora noticed something on the pavement.

A trail of wet footprints.

They led toward the cemetery.

Evan stared at them.

“That’s where Bell was.”

Nora nodded.

“We’re going.”

“Absolutely not.”

She looked at him.

“Evan.”

“Yes?”

“You’re coming.”

He sighed.

“I knew you’d say that.”

---

Blackwood Cemetery stood behind a row of ancient trees.

The iron gate was half broken.

A rusted sign read:

VISITORS MUST REMAIN SILENT.

Evan looked at it.

“That’s unreasonable.”

Nora stared at him.

“What?”

“I talk when I’m nervous.”

“Then try being nervous quietly.”

They entered.

The rain had stopped.

The cemetery was silent.

Too silent.

Their footsteps sounded enormous.

Graves stretched in every direction.

Nora followed the footprints.

They ended beside an old stone crypt.

There was a name carved above the entrance.

EDWARD BLACK

Evan frowned.

“Who is Edward Black?”

Nora shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

The crypt door was slightly open.

Evan pushed it.

Creeeeak.

Inside was a narrow chamber.

Candles burned along the walls.

Nora stared.

“Someone’s been here recently.”

Evan pointed toward the floor.

There were seven black coffee cups.

Each had a name written on it.

Samuel.

Helen.

Daniel.

Thomas.

Mary.

Richard.

Victor.

Nora’s stomach tightened.

“All seven victims.”

Evan nodded.

“But there are eight spaces.”

He pointed.

One empty spot remained.

A blank cup sat at the end.

Nora slowly approached it.

Her name was written across it.

NORA.

She stepped back.

“No.”

Evan looked at the cup.

“That’s not good.”

“I know.”

“Very bad, actually.”

“I know!”

A noise came from behind them.

A soft cough.

Both spun around.

Detective Bell stood in the doorway.

His coat was wet.

His expression was cold.

“What are you doing here?”

Nora pointed at the cups.

“You tell us.”

Bell stepped inside.

He looked at the seven cups.

Then at the eighth.

For the first time, genuine fear appeared in his eyes.

Evan noticed.

“You know what this is.”

Bell didn’t answer.

“Detective?”

Bell walked toward the cups.

He picked up Victor’s cup.

There was a crack across it.

“Victor wasn’t supposed to die.”

Nora stared.

“What?”

Bell looked at her.

“He was supposed to disappear.”

Evan frowned.

“That’s somehow worse.”

Bell ignored him.

“This started twenty years ago.”

Nora crossed her arms.

“Tell me everything.”

Bell looked toward the doorway.

Then lowered his voice.

“Twenty years ago, eight people discovered something underneath this town.”

“What?”

“A room.”

Evan frowned.

“Another Room 11?”

Bell shook his head.

“No.”

He looked at Nora.

“Room Zero.”

The candles flickered.

Nora swallowed.

“Where?”

“Under the café.”

She froze.

“My café?”

Bell nodded.

“There is a basement beneath The Last Cup.”

“No.”

“There used to be.”

“I’ve owned that building for six years. There is no basement.”

“There was.”

“What happened to it?”

Bell stared at the floor.

“It was sealed.”

“Why?”

“Because something was inside.”

Evan looked around.

“A monster?”

Bell shook his head.

“A man.”

Nora frowned.

“Who?”

Bell didn’t answer immediately.

Then he said:

“Jonathan Voss.”

The name seemed to change the air.

Even the candles stopped flickering.

Nora whispered:

“Who is Jonathan Voss?”

Bell looked at her.

“The first man who ordered the coffee.”

---

Twenty years earlier, The Last Cup had been owned by Nora’s father, James Blake.

James had been a quiet man.

Kind.

Friendly.

And according to Bell, dangerously curious.

One evening, James discovered a hidden door behind an old shelf.

The door led beneath the café.

There was no basement on the original building plans.

But the room existed.

Inside was a table.

Eight chairs.

And a coffee machine.

At first, James thought it was an old storage room.

Then he found the notebook.

It contained names.

Dates.

Orders.

And one rule:

EVERY CUSTOMER MUST DRINK.

Bell continued.

“James told seven people about the room.”

“Who?”

Bell listed the names.

Samuel Reed.

Helen Morris.

Daniel Cross.

Thomas Grey.

Mary Lane.

Richard Hale.

Victor Hale.

Nora stared.

“Victor was part of it.”

“Yes.”

“What about the eighth person?”

Bell looked at her.

“Your father.”

Nora went completely still.

“My father?”

Bell nodded.

“There were eight.”

“What happened?”

Bell’s expression hardened.

“They opened the door.”

“And?”

Bell looked toward the entrance of the crypt.

“One person came out.”

Evan whispered:

“Jonathan Voss.”

Bell nodded.

“He wasn’t supposed to be alive.”

Nora frowned.

“Why?”

“Because Jonathan Voss had died thirty years earlier.”

Silence.

Evan slowly raised his hand.

Bell stared at him.

“What?”

“Can I just say something?”

“No.”

“I think we’ve officially passed the point where coffee is the biggest problem.”

Bell sighed.

“Continue.”

Nora’s voice trembled.

“What happened to the others?”

Bell looked at the cups.

“They disappeared.”

“All seven?”

“Yes.”

“And my father?”

“Your father sealed the room.”

“Where is he now?”

Bell looked at her.

“I don’t know.”

Nora’s face fell.

“My father disappeared twenty years ago.”

Bell nodded.

“We assumed he was dead.”

Evan looked at the eighth cup.

“But if Nora is the eighth customer…”

Bell interrupted.

“She isn’t the eighth.”

Nora stared.

“What?”

Bell pointed at the cup.

“She’s the ninth.”

The candle flames suddenly went out.

Darkness filled the crypt.

Nora heard breathing.

Not hers.

Not Evan’s.

Something was standing behind them.

A whisper came from the darkness.

“Eight came in.”

Nora froze.

“One came out.”

Another voice whispered from somewhere else:

“And one stayed.”

Evan grabbed Nora’s hand.

“Don’t move.”

A match struck.

Bell lit a candle.

The crypt was empty.

Except for the eight coffee cups.

Now the ninth cup was gone.

Nora stared.

“My cup.”

Bell looked at her.

“Where did it go?”

Before anyone could answer, the sound of footsteps came from outside.

Someone was walking around the crypt.

Slowly.

Bell reached for his gun.

Evan grabbed the chair again.

Nora whispered:

“Who’s there?”

A man’s voice answered.

“Coffee.”

Evan closed his eyes.

“Of course.”

The footsteps stopped.

Bell moved toward the entrance.

Suddenly the faceless man appeared.

He stood outside the crypt.

But this time he wasn’t alone.

Behind him stood three shadowy figures.

One was a woman.

One was a child.

One was an old man.

Their faces were hidden.

Bell raised his gun.

“Stay where you are!”

The faceless man pointed at him.

Then at Nora.

Then at the coffee cups.

Bell’s face went pale.

“No.”

Nora looked at him.

“What?”

Bell whispered:

“They found us.”

The three figures began walking toward the crypt.

Evan stepped backward.

“How many people are there?”

Bell whispered:

“Seven.”

Nora looked at the seven cups.

Then at the shadows.

Her blood ran cold.

“They’re the seven dead customers.”

The first shadow entered.

The candle beside it went out.

The second entered.

Another candle died.

The third.

Another.

Soon the crypt was almost completely dark.

The final figure stopped at the entrance.

A woman’s voice whispered:

“Nora.”

She recognized it.

Her mother’s voice.

Nora’s eyes widened.

“My mother?”

The shadow raised its head.

“You have his eyes.”

Nora stepped forward.

“Who?”

The shadow answered:

“Your father.”

Then it vanished.

The crypt lights suddenly returned.

Everyone was gone.

Bell’s gun was still in his hand.

Evan was staring at the empty doorway.

Nora stood completely still.

Then Evan noticed something.

A small black mark had appeared on Nora’s wrist.

The same symbol as the coffee cup.

Nora looked at it.

“What is that?”

Bell’s expression changed.

“You’ve been marked.”

“By whom?”

Bell didn’t answer.

Nora grabbed his coat.

“Tell me!”

Bell finally said:

“Jonathan Voss.”

The mark began to burn.

Nora screamed.

And somewhere beneath the cemetery, something answered.

A deep mechanical sound.

Hiss.

Click.

Drip.

Hiss.

Click.

Drip.

The coffee machine.

Evan stared at the ground.

“That’s impossible.”

The sound grew louder.

Then a voice came from beneath their feet.

“Your coffee is ready.”

The cemetery ground cracked.

A thin black line appeared between the stones.

Then another.

Then another.

A hidden staircase began opening beneath the crypt.

Bell stepped backward.

“It’s happening again.”

Nora stared into the darkness.

“What’s down there?”

Bell’s voice was barely a whisper.

“The room.”

Evan looked at Nora.

“We should leave.”

Nora shook her head.

“No.”

“What?”

“We’ve been running from this mystery since last night.”

She stepped toward the opening.

“Now we’re going to find the truth.”

Bell grabbed her arm.

“You don’t understand.”

Nora looked at him.

“Then explain it.”

Bell’s eyes filled with fear.

“The room doesn’t kill people.”

“Then what does it do?”

Bell looked into the darkness.

“It makes them remember.”

A sudden laugh echoed beneath them.

Then a second voice whispered:

“And sometimes…”

The staircase lights turned on one by one.

“…it makes them remember things that never happened.”

Nora stared down the stairs.

At the bottom was a wooden door.

Above it was a number.

0

The door slowly opened.

Inside stood a long table.

Eight chairs.

Eight coffee cups.

Seven were occupied by shadows.

The eighth chair was empty.

Then the chair slowly moved backward.

Waiting for someone to sit.

Nora heard a familiar voice.

Her father’s voice.

“Come home, Nora.”

She stepped forward.

Evan grabbed her shoulder.

“No.”

She looked at him.

“That’s my father.”

Evan shook his head.

“No.”

“Why?”

He pointed toward the table.

A photograph sat beside the eighth cup.

Nora picked it up.

It showed eight people standing around the table twenty years ago.

Her father was there.

Victor Hale was there.

The other six were there.

But the eighth person—

was Nora.

As a child.

She was standing beside her father.

Nora dropped the photograph.

“That isn’t possible.”

Bell whispered:

“That’s why your father disappeared.”

Nora stared at the photograph.

Evan looked at the empty chair.

Then the coffee cup in front of it began steaming.

A voice came from inside the room.

“Welcome back, Nora.”

She stepped backward.

“You know me?”

The voice laughed softly.

“I’ve been waiting twenty years.”

The door slammed shut.

And the last thing Nora heard before darkness swallowed the room was her father’s voice:

“Don’t let them tell you what happened that night.”

End of Chapter Three