Behind me, a pair of headlights turned onto the main street, the high beams catching me in their glare.

The tires hissed on the wet cobblestones as the car accelerated toward the church.

I pounded on the heavy oak door with my fists.

“Help!” I screamed. “Someone help me!”

The car stopped twenty yards away.

The doors opened, and two men in dark coats stepped out, their faces hidden by the rain.

I looked at the iron key in my hand, then at the small side door of the church.

There was a small brass keyhole hidden behind a heavy iron ring.

My hand shook so violently I could barely align the key.

The footsteps on the cobblestones were getting closer.

I pushed the key into the lock and turned it.

With a heavy click, the lock gave way.

I pushed the door open and slipped inside, slamming it shut behind me.

I slid the heavy iron bolt into place just as something heavy slammed against the outside of the door.

The church was pitch black inside, smelling of stale incense and cold wax.