CHAPTER EIGHT
Chris didn’t know what was happening. One second he’d been in Mistress Obsidian’s office, listening to her warn him that failure in this next mission would result in him being sent to a horrible hell, and then the next second he was here… wherever here was.
All around Chris, all he could see was black. He felt very calm, a bit like he was sleeping.
Images started to flash in his mind. He saw water, murky and swirling. Then he smelled that awful stench of raw sewage.
Fear gripped Christopher as he suddenly realized where he was. The River Thames! No!
Had Mistress Obsidian sent him back to that awful place? Had this whole second mission just been some kind of elaborate ruse, a way to get his hopes up only to dash them again by sending him to his watery grave? Terror began
