Page 31 of House of Horrors

I send a silent prayer to our God, begging it to keep Jason safe as I sprint down the hallway, away from the blight and the roar of the chainsaw. The mirrors continue to warp reality, twisting my sense of direction and hiding the doors. I search for an escape, my gaze darting frantically. My reflection twists and elongates, swirling into a dizzying circle until a flash of gold catches my eye. A handle, half-hidden behind a mirrored surface.

I lunge forward before it can vanish, my hand poised over the door handle while I steal a glance behind me, heart hammering against my ribcage. Jason has moved closer to the blight. There’s no sight of the chainsaw. Yet. I need to hurry.

I yank the door open and charge ahead, the warm, cozy glow of the hallway nearly making me forget that we’re trapped inside a haunted house and that evil is lurking.

Seventeen

Daisy

The door shuts behind me with a resounding click, swallowing the last sliver of light. I violently shudder as I scan the shadowy room, which is lit only by dripping candles that bleed wax onto the floor. The carousel music from the mirrored hallway is distant, creating a spooky backdrop. Goosebumps crawl up my arms like little spiders.

Creepy, antique dolls line the walls, their glass eyes gleaming with uncanny life. It’s almost as if humans are imprisoned within their tiny bodies. They’re arranged in perfect rows atop dark oak shelves, some clutching their plaid dresses with dainty hands, while others lean in, frozen mid exchange of whispered confessions.

My breath quickens, sweat slick on my skin. I brace for a pigtailed doll to swivel its face toward me. My heart thumps in my ears and I hold my breath, waiting and watching, before finally turning away. Dread coils in my chest like I’m making a huge mistake in giving the dolls my back, but before I can think more of it, I find a jar of doll heads that stare back at me. The candles tremble, casting shadows of elongated figures rising against the walls. They’re coming for me.

A creak echoes through the room, and I whip my head around. In the corner, a weathered rocking chair cradles a porcelain girl, her face fractured and features warped into a haunting expression. Unlike the other dolls, she seems older—more woman than girl, really, as though she’s a caregiver for the others. And a harbinger of evil.

I take a step back, my legs trembling.

I’m not sure if there are any blights in this room or they’ve run elsewhere, but these dolls might be the most terrifying thing I’ve ever encountered. Creepy little fuckers.

The chair creaks again, and both my heart and I jump.

“Fuck,” I gasp, clutching my chest. “I think fucking not.”

I stumble back, knees threatening to buckle and I whirl around, bolting from the room.

The door crashes shut behind me. Pressed against a mirror, I gulp for air, trying to steady myself.

I realize this is a life-or-death moment, but I can’t force myself to move. The thought of searching that room for a weapon makes my stomach turn. Those dolls are waiting for me, hungry and possessed by something ancient and evil.

Jason will have to forgive me.

A heavy silence presses in, and my heart plummets. It’s too quiet. I glance down the hallway, and the sight of its emptiness steals the breath from my lungs. My eyes search the mirrors hoping to find him trapped in a warped reality, but there’s nothing. He’s not here.

“Jason?” I shout, but there’s no response.

A heavy weight drops in my chest.

The awful visions the voice revealed earlier surge through my mind. Jason collapses, his body folding unnaturally, bones cracking. This is no game—lives are at stake. An entire town, oblivious as they are, counts on us. A tremor of nerves ripples through me while I stand at a crossroads. Should I go back to the eerie doll room, or risk everything on the next door in front of me?

“Shit,” I curse, wishing I had kept a knife from the kitchen, but it’s too late to go back.

Instead, I move forward.

When I push open the door, a flurry of colorful balloons floats my way while streamers twist overhead, weaving a tangled canopy that hides the rest of the room. The space is drenched in wild rainbow hues. At first, it seems almost fun. Then I spot the discarded clown masks. Suddenly, eerie music trickles in, winding through the air like a tune from a possessed music box. A shiver crawls up my spine when I realize that if blights hadn’t taken over, I would have had to face murderous looking clowns jumping out at me.

Next Halloween, I’m definitely not coming back. Maybe a ghost tour at the asylum would be better.

A balloon bounces towards me and I swat it aside, nerves prickling.

“It’s too quiet…and when it gets quiet, something bad is bound to happen,” I mutter under my breath.

Precious seconds slip by while I search for a weapon. Jason is out there somewhere, and worry gnaws at me. I look inward to the voice for guidance, silently begging for a sign that Jason is safe, but only silence answers. I exhale harshly and force myself to move faster.

The unsettling music swells, filling the air. Shadowy horses glide along the walls, rising and falling in time with the haunting melody before the entire room whirls in a twisted waltz.

My legs tremble as I stagger forward, the ground pitching beneath me. I need to stay focused. This room is trying to distract me.