Greg nudges me towardthe theme park gate four weeks later, Trish trailing behind. I can’t believe I let my two best friends convince me to join them for this stupid Halloween carnival. I don’t even like Halloween.
Yet here I am, decked out in a pro-level cosplay of my favorite book character and about to head to the stupid haunted house that’s most definitely not giving me the creeps. My friends have opted for a dragon-shifter duo, and unlike me, they look positively excited.
“Babe, stop overthinking it,” Trish scolds me, rubbing the space between my furrowed brows with her blue finger. Her face is painted blue too as part of her getup, contrasting her deep red curls. “His dumb post got taken down. It will be fine.”
“Will it though?” I grumble, scanning my ticket at the barcode machine. It beeps and the gate opens, letting me in. “I can’t fucking believe he posted that stupid picture! And he’s the one that made me wear that crap in the first place.”
“I know it’s no consolation, but the cowgirl stuff looked cute on you. Objectively,” her husband pitches in, earning himselfa death glare from me. “But yeah, he had no right to post something so personal. I hope his dick withers.”
I’m sure I could probably buy something to make it happen. I have a voodoo enthusiast buddy who’s got connections on the Dark Web.
Trish throws an arm around my neck, smooching my cheek. “I know this look. You are concocting some evil plan in your smart head. Don’t. It’s not worth it.”
I know she is right, but I’m still fuming. I can’t comprehend why that ass Andy would post such personal pictures just for petty revenge! Ugh.
“Deep breaths, Charlie. And no frowning. You are scaring all the potential stallions that want to get in your pants tonight,” Trish points out, steering me toward the haunted house attraction. “Just focus on having fun. The post is down, and the damage was minimal. I doubt anyone cares that you showed up on the internet in a slightly kinky outfit. That shit happens all the time.”
Still, it wasn’t by my own choice. My controversial photo was posted by Andy without any input from me. If that isn’t the most assholest thing to have ever assholed, I don’t know what is. But, well, Trish is not wrong. The best way to get over it and the stress it caused me is to have some fun and maybe even get laid. It’s been a while and I’m feeling withdrawal symptoms.
We reach the haunted house. It’s a two-story Victorian building with stained glass and ornamented gables. An intentionally messy garden sits at the front, the weeds and overgrown bushes cresting the wrought-iron fence completing the creepy look.
“I hear they have a 99% scare rate,” Trish informs me, dragging me up the creaky stairs.
I wrinkle my nose as the gruff scream of an adult male sounds from somewhere inside. I don’t like this. “With kids, maybe.”
“Oh, yeah? You sure about that, buddy? You look a little pale.” Greg snorts, wiggling his thick dirty blond eyebrows at me.
I aim my best scowl his way. He grins at me in response and pulls the strap-thingy attached to his wings, making them flutter up and down while a dinosaur screech plays from the small speaker attached to their base.
A giggle pours out of me. Even though he’s wearing a dragon costume, he still retains that supermodel look he has going about him. It’s no surprise, really—he represents a bunch of brands, so I suspect it’s something that he can’t really escape because it comes to him naturally. I don’t think I’m bad-looking per se—I’ve got a nice face with high cheekbones and soft features—but he’s what you’d call conventionally attractive.
The staff person posted in front of the house halts us, instructing us to wait until the light above the door goes green. A few more shrieks split the air as glass shatters inside the building. My hackles rise and shivers race down my spine.
I have hated haunted houses ever since my brother took me to my first one as a kid. I must’ve been no older than five, but that stuff traumatized me for life. Trish and Greg don’t officially know about it as I haven’t told anyone, but I highly suspect that they might’ve figured it out because they’ve made it their life’s mission to take me to a haunted house attraction every Halloween.
I study my best friends as they fuss about with each other’s costumes. I’m sure that if I explained they’d understand, though knowing them, they’ll drag me to even more scary places for ‘therapy’ reasons. So, I guess it’s best to keep quiet about my borderline phobia.
When ten more minutes pass and the door sign still shines in red, I hook a finger over my shoulder. “This is taking ages. I’m bored. Wanna check out the shooting range? Or we could do the rollercoaster first?”
Trish snaps her blue gaze to me, planting her hands on her hips. “Are you chickening out, Charlie?”
I arch my eyebrows high. “Who, me? No way! I just thought we came here to have fun.” I give the still red light above the door a pointed look. “This is not particularly fun.”
A noise between a click and a ding sounds then, and the light changes to green. My stomach sinks, cold sweat peppering the back of my neck.
“Wow. Perfect timing, let’s go!” Greg claps his hands, ushering us inside.
God help me.
Taking a deep breath, I plaster on a smile and follow my friends.
Inside, it’s dark inside and smells like firewood. A single chandelier with real candles hangs in the middle of the entry hall, throwing a dim light that barely illuminates the surroundings.
“The front door is now locked. The only way out of this house is via the back entrance. But beware: the kitchen is currently inaccessible, so you must find an alternative way to get to the conservatory,” Trish reads aloud from the framed instructions that are left on the end table near the shoe rack.
“Oh shit, this sounds fun! It’s like an escape room and haunted house in one!” Greg cheers, grabbing the single flashlight that’s hanging off the empty coat hanger.
I suppress a shudder. Amazing. So not only do I have to deal with potential jump scares, but I also have to use my brain. I should’ve stayed home and played games. Obviously, it’s too late now, so there is no point regretting my decision to give intomy friends’ excitement for this stupid holiday. I’m already here, so the best course of action would be to get out of here as soon as possible so I can go straight home and sulk in peace while stuffing my face with pizza.
