I need more.
God that’s so fucked up. I haven’t been touched in so long that I’m getting off from some twisted stranger in a Halloween mask.
The fear from earlier is replaced by a new ravenous emotion. A need for release.
He suddenly flips me over, knife gleaming in the strobe light.
“Smile pretty for me, little ghoul.”
The mask gets uncomfortably close to my face as the knife is dragged down my face not hard enough to draw blood, but close enough that I can feel its sharp edge.
My heart beats erratically, stumbling over each pulse. It flutters full of fear and dread behind my ribs.
Suddenly, his weight is thrown off me and I’m able to scramble to a standing position.
Behind me a scuffle between the attacker and a blurry looking figure with gleaming gold horns ensues. I blink vigorously, wondering how hard he yanked my hair for me not to be seeing clearly. It dawns on me that I should run, but I can’t seem to make myself move. Everything feels intangible, as if this isn’t even real. But I know that it is. Deep in my bones, something tells me that what I’m seeing and experiencing is real.
The man who assaulted me lays motionless on the ground, with blood seeping from his head where the knife he once held now is embedded. The demon-like figure is nowhere to be seen.
Stunned, I creep closer and chance reaching down into the blood. My fingertips graze the crimson stained liquid, and my entire body immediately recoils.
It’s warm.
It’s real.
The other figure, the one who saved me, is nowhere to be found. Oh god. What if they think I did this?
Images of my kids being taken from me, as I end up in jail flicker through my mind’s eye.
Fuck that.
I take off through the door, wiping the blood from my hands with a prayer to the universe on my lips that I can get the hell out of here unscathed.
“Callie!” I call out for my friend, as I dodge the opening of multiple morgue doors in the small hallway. They skim across my flesh as I pass. Cool metal that reeks of rotten meat. It takes everything in me not to retch on the floor right here.
“Help me!” A young woman’s voice calls out, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.
“Callie, is that you?” I keep running but a person jumps out, stopping me. I scream and push past, picking up the speed.
“You can run, but you can’t hide, girlie.”
My head is spinning, as I make a turn into another room of horrors, only this one is set up like a movie theater. A projector flashes images of some slasher movie while the people in the seats writhe and scream, their arms held down by restraints.
The reviews weren’t fucking kidding. Itislifelike, and I’m starting to think maybe it’s more real than I realize, though, I don’t want to believe it. The blood from the man still stains my fingers, feeling sticky and smelling like a pungent old metal.
“Help!” The same woman’s voice calls, only this time, it’s closer.
She grabs my arms, fingernails digging into my flesh through the material on my sweatshirt.
“You have to help me. My boyfriend.” She shakes me, tears streaming down her bruised face. “Th-they k-killed him.”
“Get off of me, please. You’re hurting me!” Her fingers dig in harder. “Let go!” I demand, not liking this one bit.
“They’ll kill us too!” She cries, until someone jumps out from the shadows and grabs her. She kicks and screams, fighting them, but they drag her through black dangling ribbons.
Someone grabs hold of my arm, and I scream again.
“Please, please help me.”
