Page 14 of House of Horrors

“I didn’t come,” I hiss, trying to mask my secrets, my fingers curling around the lighter tighter.

“Sure. And I’m a nun.” Daisy throws a wink at me, walking past.

My eyes narrow at Daisy turning around to talk to me, forcing me to meet her gaze. I glare, because pretending keeps me in control.

“You know, you act like a tough guy. You want people to be afraid of you, but deep down, I think you’re squishy on the inside. Just a cute little teddy bear.” Daisy taunts.

I shake my head, flicking the lighter on and off. “Fuck off. I hope you fall flat on your ass. I need a good laugh.”

She taps her chin. Nicky makes that same face when he thinks he’s got me all figured out. My heart speeds up but I do my best to shake it off. I glance past her to see we’ve almost made it to the haunted house.

“I gave you an orgasm, but don’t mistake that for meaning anything. I hate you. I’ll never like you.”

Daisy laughs and my chest swells with pride. Not that I’ll admit it, but I wouldn’t mind making her laugh again.

My mind is a mess.

“Say it again like you mean it.” Daisy turns around and sidesteps a kid in a superhero costume, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I hate you,” I call out, making sure Daisy knows where she stands with me. “You’re the worst thing to ever happen to me. If I could erase you from my life I would.”

My eyes trail down the curve of her back. It takes a moment for me to realize I’m staring at her ass while she walks. The sway of her hips and the bounce of each step hypnotize me, but I force myself to snap out of it. I can’t keep looking at her like I want to devour her alive. She’s my fucking stepsister, and she’s dangerous.

I’ve had my fair share of scandals. Body modifications, getting caught sucking dick at church…but this might break the town. They wouldn’t care that she’s my stepsister, that there’s no blood between us. They would hear “sister” and come after me with their pitchforks and knives. I’d be the one they blamed, because in their eyes I’m the devil incarnate.

Daisy stops walking as we come to stand outside the wooden fence, each picket jagged and broken like uneven teeth, that marks the entrance to the haunted house. Gravestones litter the front yard, which has been transformed into a makeshift cemetery.

The house is old-fashioned and charming, yet in dire need of maintenance. Yellowing paint peels from the wooden panels and an unruly garden creeps up the side. Gnarled vines distort into crooked hands, attempting to claim the house as their own. After the owner died, leaving no family to inherit, ownership passed to the town, and it’s used only for special nights like this.

A gentle breeze sweeps through the yard, carrying the subtle scent of decaying autumn leaves and damp earth. Trees loom over the house’s boundary lines, branches contorting into twisted limbs, isolating the home from the neighbors.

“Welcome to the house of horrors,” I announce. Excitement builds under my skin like a kid waking up on Christmas. I fucking love Halloween.

The haunted house’s two front windows glow red vividly. A skeleton peers from one, Help Me scrawled in fake blood on the other. The house seems to breathe, each flicker of light an inhale before the building rattles like it’s exhaling. The porch bends into a sinister smile, and the wood creaks as the front door yawns open, devouring the eager crowd.

A small line starts from the crooked gate, and excited chatter fills the air. Creepy carnival music plays in the distance, the sound going up and down in red lines.

We step forward to join the crowd and Daisy slows her pace, warily eyeing the scare actors who welcome guests with various weapons. I smirk as a plan forms in my mind. Maybe torturing Daisy will be the best way to survive the night.

I approach her from behind, slapping her shoulders. She jumps and glares at me.

“Don’t do that,” she hisses, each word unnaturally slow.

“Aww what’s wrong? Are you scared?” I taunt.

She doesn’t answer. I snort at her fear, entertained, and her body ripples before my eyes. Shiiit, the drugs are already working their magic.

“The weapons just look so real…”

I roll my eyes. “That’s because they are. Only adults are allowed, so there are no limits with what happens inside the house.” Her body shuffles closer to mine, and my grin stretches wider. “You’re not as tough as you pretend. You look almost adorable shaking like that.”

An evil-looking jester and a scarecrow carrying a scythe approach where we wait in line, sensing her terror.

The haunted house is a good place to earn some extra cash. I remember the year before and chuckle. On one particularly good night, I jumped out at an asshole that I knew from school with a knife, and he ended up pissing himself. It’s the best place to get revenge on shitty people who think it’s fun to bully you for being different.

Here, there are no rules. It’s perfect for adrenaline junkies and men who think they’re brave and want to impress their girlfriends only to get a rude awakening.

“Fuck,” I hear her whisper, and I laugh as she grabs onto my arm. “Jason, please.”