“It’s okay,” Hayes whispers, leaning close, his breath warm against my ear.
“What is?” My heart races, my thoughts scatter. I can’t focus on anything.
“He’s collecting everyone’s cell phones so no one cheats.”
“Oh, I left mine in my room,” I lie. It’s in one of the hidden pockets of my sweatshirt, along with a mini bottle of whiskey. I hold my hands up to Lyle;empty, see?
He smirks, a crooked smile that sets my nerves on edge. No one else seems to notice as they drop their phones into the bag. I turn my eyes away.
Alright, stay close,” he says softly, his tone eerily calm.“Watch your footing along the path, the ground’s pretty uneven.”
“Yes, everyone be careful. Are we all set?” Tessa chimes in, trying to keep the energy light.
“Definitely, we have two hours, right? Marissa is awesome with riddles. We’ll be out in one,” Jonathan brags.
Oh, shut the hell up, Jonathan.
Lyle leads us down a narrow alleyway between tall tattered pavilions that once housed games of chance and magic. We pass by an old popcorn stand, its paint chipped and faded. An old popcorn machine sits inside, covered in a thick layer of dust, the glass cracked. I can almost smell the phantom scent of buttery popcorn, lingering in the cold, damp air.
To the right is a fortune teller's tent, its once-bright fabric now tattered and flapping gently in the breeze. The sign above the entrance reads "Madame Moira" in peeling gold letters. Through the dark slit in the canvas, I can just make out the outline of a small table with a crystal ball sitting atop it. I shiver, imagining the whispers of countless fortunes told and hopes dashed within those worn canvas walls.
Lyle takes us around a corner and down past the old carousel. Its faded horses stand frozen mid-gallop, their glassy eyes staring blankly ahead. I can almost hear the faint echoes of laughter and screams from the past, now ghostly whispers in the night air.
Ahead looms the funhouse, its entrance dominated by a giant clown face. The wide, sinister grin forms the door, while the windows, positioned as eyes, seem to follow us as we approach. The door is slightly ajar, creaking softly in the wind.
The knot in my stomach tightens, doubling in size. I don’t want to go in.
“This,” Lyle says darkly, “is the funhouse.”
“That’s creepy as fuck.” Griffin laughs.
Hayes pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist, his thumb slipping under the waistband of my jeans. “What kid would have ever wanted to go inside that?”
“Right?” Griffin says. “It looks like the clown is going to eat us.”
“I know who I want to eat right now,” Hayes murmurs against my ear.
I don’t even think it’s funny, but I hear myself laugh, a little too loudly, and everyone turns to look at me. I cover my mouth, stifling myself.
We each step through the clown’s mouth, crunching over broken glass and something soft and mushy. The air inside is dark and damp and reeks of piss. Dim, flickering lights cast long shadows that creep down the walls, creating an illusion of movement all around us.
The passage is long and narrow, lined with warped mirrors that distort our reflections into grotesque shapes. Tessa is giggling madly. Griffin lifts his shirt and admires his new elongated muscular abs. “I wonder what my dick would look like,” he jokes. Hayes chuckles and leads me away before he pulls it out to see.
“Might make it look better,” Tessa quips, and everyone bursts into laughter. I stay silent. I don’t want to be in here. None of this feels right.
"Do you hear that?" Lyle asks suddenly, his voice barely more than a breath.
It grabs everyone’s attention. We quiet down and listen. A door at the end of the hallway creaks open, revealing a room filled with old, dusty mannequins, their lifeless eyes staringblankly ahead. My stomach flips as one of them seems to shift slightly.
"Did you see that?" Tessa whispers, her voice quivering.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. The mannequins are moving, ever so slightly, their limbs creaking as they turn toward us.
“That’s the stuff of nightmares," I manage to say, my voice a strained whisper.
“It sure is,” Lyle agrees, suddenly much closer to me than he was a moment ago.
I flinch, instinctively stepping back into Hayes, who thankfully steadies me with a reassuring grip and plants a quick kiss on the top of my head.
