“So, have you given any thought to where you’re going to put the torch when you win?” I asked, trying to make small talk.
Twisted Spires was a town full of old traditions. When a new mayor is elected, they pass a torch to the winner, symbolic of leading the way for the townspeople.
“If I win the election.” Mr. Whitethorn corrected. “I had made a spot for it in my study, but I guess I’ll have to find a new place to put it. You wouldn’t know who started the fire, would you?” he said with a slight edge to his voice.
Every muscle tensed, and my eyes widened at the question. Was this his way of accusing me? “I thought it was an accident. Faulty wiring or something.”
He grabbed the last few pies from my hands, grazing my fingers with his own. Goose bumps spread up my arms, and by some miracle I kept from recoiling at his touch.
“The fire chief had some interesting notes in his report.”
“Oh…” was all I was able to get out.
“And one of the servers mentioned a girl and a guy coming out of the study right before the fire broke out.” His smile turned feral.
“I wish I could help, but I was so enthralled in your speech I didn’t notice anything. I can’t wait to hear your speech tonight and the plans you have for the town.” I rambled on, slowly backing away. “Well, I promised Kenna and Emory I’d find them when I got here.” I turned without saying goodbye and fled, putting as much distance between us as possible.
I ducked behind one of the many amusement park rides and bent over, placing my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath. I inhaled deeply, trying to fill my screaming lungs with air when I felt someone’s hand on my back.
I jumped at the sudden contact. Clutching my chest, trying to keep my heart from beating right out of it.
“Are you okay?” Kenna asked.
“Yeah,” I choked out between deep breaths when I realized who it was.
“We got flower crowns!” Kenna shook one in front of my face. A sweet floral scent filled the air as I placed the vibrant crown, bursting with wildflowers on top of my head. “Sorry we didn’t wait for you. We didn’t want all the good ones to be gone.” Kenna continued, moving a rogue daisy from her face. Each one was different, but beautiful. Kenna’s was full of daisies, Emory’s carnations, and mine, wildflowers.
“Thanks. But I’m still pissed at you both for ditching me. I had to bake two dozen pies all by myself.” I huffed, readjusting the crown so it didn’t fall off.
“Well, I’m still pissed at you too. But in the spirit of the fall festival, I say we call a truce for tonight.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
Emory clapped as a giant clown head came into view. My gut twisted. “Oh my god, we need to go into the funhouse!” she laughed.
“No,” I shook my head. I hated that place. When I was nine, a worker hid inside and followed me through the entire place, scaring me shitless. I couldn’t sleep for months after the incident, and every year since, I dreaded going inside.
Some of my most traumatic childhood memories centered around that awful place. Cal laughing while the employee had to take me out the side exit, or Eli leading me through the entire thing while I kept my eyes shut. How they had the audacity tocall it a funhouse was beyond me. It was fake advertisement, and someone should sue them.
“That place is my own personal hell, and you know that,” I hissed at Emory and Kenna as they sprinted for the entrance, but I reluctantly followed. I didn’t want to be caught alone with Mr. Whitethorn again.
They had already gone inside when I got there. I entered the first room, and it was empty. Neither Kenna nor Emory waited for me.
“Guys, this isn’t funny.” I walked through the open mouth of a clown because nothing screamed fun like being swallowed whole. The floor beneath my feet began to shift, making it almost impossible to step forward. I took a deep breath.Get your shit together, Lyra.
I staggered, fighting to stay steady until, finally, the floor stopped moving. But just as I thought I had control, the ground began to tilt, leading to a hallway of different sized doors.
I turned left and opened the door to a room full of mirrors.
“Kenna. Emory,” I whisper-shouted, but no one replied.
I should have waited for them outside. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” I repeated the word over and over with every step I took deeper into the abyss, or as others referred to it—the room of mirrors.
Around the first corner, I found the first dead end. And why did it always reek of urine? Did people get stuck in here long enough that they had to pee?I turned again to find my reflection staring back, and I almost dropped to the floor. I slowly lifted my eyes back to the mirror, and something caught my attention. My eyes shot to the mirror to the left, but I saw nothing.
“Emory, if that’s you, I’m going to murder you, and no one will ever find your body in this stupid house of horrors.”
Something brushed against my arm as I felt a hand reach around, grabbing my neck from behind. “For someone who can see the dead, you seem quite scared of your own reflection.”
