Page 16 of House of Horrors

“M-maybe I—” My protests die on my heavy tongue as the door slams shut, plunging us into darkness. I hear a rattling against metal followed by a loud click. My heart sinks. The only way out is forward.

I swallow hard, my fingers gripping Jason’s arm more tightly, the leather warm and alive like feverish flesh. My vision is blank—no sight of my hands, my body, or Jason—only the sensation of his arm keeping me grounded. Without it, the panic inside of me will climb fast.

Jason attempts to tug his arm away, and I stumble, trying to hold on.

“Jason,” I hiss.

“We can’t stand here all night. Move, or I’m running off without you.”

Goddamn it. I know Jason will abandon me in the dark, and I don’t want to be left alone. It’s a terrifying thought. I let out a shaky breath that sounds more like a broken harmonica and take a small step forward. I hear Jason sigh dramatically.

My hand squeezes Jason’s arm, using it as a stress ball, not giving him the chance to leave me behind. I just need time to get acclimated, and then I’ll be okay… maybe. God, how can I flirt with him in these conditions?

“For fuck’s sake, it’s just a dark hallway. You can do this, baby. What’s there to be scared of?” Jason’s voice crackles like he’s speaking to me through a radio. There’s a sharp pop, then a loud, static-filled hiss that cuts him off.

What’s there to be scared of? I want to throttle him for asking such a dumb question. Maybe it’s the unknown. What might be lurking in the shadows, biding its time for the perfect moment to jump out?

But somehow his asshole encouragement is enough to get me moving again.

My foot hits a floorboard that lets out a massive groan like someone is trapped and in pain below. I freeze instantly.

“What the hell,” I mutter. My imagination conjures up images of the house using people as planks, bound together in obscene ways. I lift my foot from the ground, my leg trembling. The things I’m picturing aren’t possible, but I’m terrified somehow they’re true.

With a quiet whimper, I take a step forward and almost sigh in relief when only an eerie wave of quiet drifts through the house.

I take a deep breath. The faint scent of mildew clings to the air, mixing with the earthy smell of old, rotting wood. A faint drip echoes somewhere ahead, and somehow, I can feel the texture of the worn, gritty floor under my boots rubbing against my skin.

I shiver and take another step.

The room is trying to wear me down. It wants to see me fail. To swallow me whole.

My teeth ache from how tightly I clench them, grit coating my tongue as I struggle to contain the fear rising inside me.

“Find the escape,” a raspy voice whispers in my ear, their hot breath tickling the side of my neck, and I scream. I recoil instantly and crash into Jason, a grunt leaving him on impact. My hands scrabble against him, needing the steadiness of his body beneath my palms.

“You’re pushing it,” Jason snaps, shoving me off.

Stumbling back, my arms flail as I try to find something to hold onto. “No no no no. Don’t, Jason. Don’t leave me.”

My hands fumble in the dark, grasping at nothing, fingers slipping through the air. I can’t feel him. I can’t find him.

“Jason?”

No answer.

My stomach drops into my ass.

“Jason?” I try again, desperation clinging to each syllable. Please answer me.

Aside from the sound of laborious breathing, there’s only silence. A crawling sensation scurries along the side of my neck and down my spine, warning me that I’m not alone. It could be Jason, but I don’t think it is. My throat tightens. Hairs on my arms rise. I think it’s someone else, someone worse. Something worse. I move in slow, careful increments.

“It’s just a dark hallway. I’m a boss bitch. I’m capable of anything,” I whisper. I force myself forward even though I want to throw up. My legs tremble, but the idea of staying trapped in this room pushes me to move, my fear keeping me upright when I want to give in to the despair. My instincts scream that if I collapse, the floor and walls will close in, smothering me while the house buries me alive. I don’t want to die here and become part of the house. I won’t die here.

My hands reach forward for balance, and with each slow step, my boot taps in front of me to make sure I don’t walk into a wall…or a person. My heart pumps frantically, jumping up into my throat. I breathe out and the air slams back into my lungs as if it doesn’t want to be in this house either.

“Sunshine and rainbows. Puppies. Sexy men with abs,” I gasp, thinking of nice things to distract myself from the dread that saturates the hallway.

I take another step.