Liar.
We’ve been waiting forever.
But judging by the state of the last guy who walked out—wide-eyed, breathless, and carrying a suspicious wet patch on his pants—maybe the wait is worth it.
Massively arousing or scary as fuck? The jury is still out.
The line moves forward a bit more until we are next. As the guys continue making small talk with a bit of flirting thrown in for good measure, my phone vibrates in my clutch.
Unknown:
I don’t share, Pipsqueak…
Oh my God… he’s here! Somewhere. But there are hundreds of masked people within the vicinity of me. I type a response to tease, see if I can make him move.
Me:
That’s a shame.
You might make some friends if you come say hi?
Unknown:
Don’t test me.
Good girls get rewarded, remember?
Me:
And bad girls get what?
The gatekeeper approaches, their face concealed beneath a plague doctor mask.
“One group at a time, start to finish,” he intones. His voice is low, eerie—probably practiced to perfection for nights like this.
He unlatches the rope. “Two paths. Left takes you through the yard—you’ll be chased by phantoms. Right? A maze of mind games.”
His gaze flicks between us. “Choose your poison wisely.”
Viv doesn’t hesitate. “Phantoms.”
I smirk. “Maze.”
She quirks a brow. “Race you?”
“You’re on.”
We both enter, and within seconds, I can hear her squealing as the first of the phantoms begins their pursuit. I turn into an old parlor, its walls packed floor-to-ceiling with eerie porcelain dolls and cobwebs.
The air is thick with cold, and a single strobe light flickers from the far corner, casting disjointed shadows that make the room feel even more unsettling. I move cautiously, scanning the dim space—when suddenly, a goblin-like creature launches out of an old piano.
I damn near jumped out of my skin…
Heart pounding, I bolt toward the stairs just as spiders drop from the ceiling in thick strands of webbing. They look disturbingly real, and a shudder crawls down my spine at the thought of them skittering across my skin. I spin toward another room, reaching for the door—locked.
A ghoulish vampire screams at me, descending from the far corner of the ceiling before retracting and scampering away giving the illusion of a contorted appearance defying gravity.
I clutch at my chest, stepping back; Viv’s screams penetrate through the other side of the wall. I know it’s a fake chase, but it’s unnerving, to say the least! Hearing something and seeing it for context are two different things entirely—my fight or flight wars with each other.
