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What the fuck?

I walk quicker, almost running.

He did the same.

I ran.

So did he.

His boots pound against he floor behind me as I flew around another corner, nearly running into my own face again.

“What the fuck!?”

I could hear him getting closer.

This wasn’t just a jump scare anymore.

This fucker was chasing me.

My long hair whips behind me as I round another corner, searching for the exit, when a hand suddenly catches the back of my dress.

A scream ripped out of me.

I jerk forward so hard, I almost fall.

Twisting around to stare at him, I scream.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

The guy immediately releases me.

But instead of apologizing, he just tilted his head.

Then he points to my hand.

Confused, I glance down to what he was looking at.

I raise my hand to look at the stamp on top of my hand.

“What?”

His bloody grin just widens.

I don’t move, trying not the breathe.

Then he lunged.

“Fuck!!”

I took off running.

His laughter follows me through the mirrors, the creepy smile only scaring me further.

What the fuck was in that waiver?

TWELVE

I race down another hallway, the mirrors reflecting on the horror that I knew was shining on my face.