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Chapter Seven
Kayla
My invitation came via text this morning—only a day after my tour—with a link to a form asking general things that I suppose cover the owner’s ass should something happen. I filled in all my kinks, though there were some listed that were way out of my comfort zone—like shrimping is a huge no, and I do not advise you to google it. While I was researching, a blog post for a book called Dirty Daddy by Samantha Barrett popped up. I don’t know if it’s something I want to read, but curiosity got the better of me, and I ordered a copy on the author’s website all the way from Australia. If I am going down the rabbit hole, I may as well own a signed copy.
After I completed my form, I received another message that explained a car would pick me up at eight to take me to the island. After that, I spent the rest of the day a jittery mess, much to my annoyance, since usually not much fazed me.
The driver is prompt, pulling up to the curb as the clock reaches the hour. I jump up and down inside, excitement and nerves swirling in my gut, making me want to puke. Excitement, because being chased sounds thrilling, but my nerves overwhelm me as I question whether I am really a girl who lets strangers chase her then do god knows what. Has my life become so sad that hair pulling and light choking do nothing for me anymore?
The car crosses the bridge and stops just before the gates, the same as last night. I jump out and thank the driver, but he doesn’t acknowledge me and drives away. The gates are open and I walk through, remembering the glowing path. This time when I reach the alley, there are people dressed in costume directing me where to go, and I am led into the open space Vero told me is for stunt shows by a man in a mask. It looks like half his face has melted off, and he doesn’t talk, simply leads the way.
Once we arrive, I find that a handful of people are already waiting. The melted-face man hands me a wristband. It lights up and flashes blue, then black, then yellow. I look at the other people waiting, and theirs are also flashing, but not with as many colors as mine.
All the actors are standing around us, and I try to find Vero among them. I can’t see him and figure he will find me. My gaze moves across the rest of them, and I find I can read most of them—their energy gives them away.
Clay is standing slightly apart from the others, stiff in his security vest, bandanna pulled over the lower half of his face. His dark eyes don’t move from me the second I lock onto them. He is watching me, and something about it makes the back of my neck prickle. I hold his stare for a second longer, then look away first, which I’m not happy about.
A lady standing on the stage clears her throat, and we all glance her way. “Welcome, you exquisite misfits and delightful miscreants, to Fear Island. I’m Nixie. Behind those masks are men who live for your screams. The contracts you signed will keep you safe. The wristbands are trackers, in case you get lost, and the colors tell these beautiful monsters exactly who you belong to tonight. Trust me, they take their possessions very seriously, so don’t lose yours. If it comes off, you leave the island. The only warning—stay out of the cornfield. If you enter, I cannot guarantee your safety. Any questions? No? Good, good—because I’m not answering them. Try not to embarrass yourselves out there, and I suggest you all start running.”
“Scream My Name” by Thomas LaRosa blasts through the speakers at an almost deafening level, and everyone scatters.
I know exactly where Vero will be, so I head toward the asylum. He wants me here, and I plan to let him find me. The asylum doors are already open when I get there, so I stroll inside. It’s dark, and my heartbeat picks up a little; the instinctive fear of what is going to jump out at me kicks in, even though logically I know no one will hurt me. I stop for a moment and let my eyes adjust, now seeing the narrow hallway in front of me. If I hold both my arms out wide, I could probably touch either side. Wallpaper is peeling off the walls, and there is a weird smell lingering in the air.
As I slowly make my way to the other end, an actor launches out of a door to my left, causing me to jump a mile high into the air. He silently disappears back into the room he stepped out of as I keep walking, waiting for the next one. Manic laughter rings out around me, and while not much in this world actually scares me, this is freaky as fuck. It’s like watching a thriller—you know there are going to be jump scares, and yet you still get a rush of adrenaline when someone does something you knew was coming.
A woman with black hair and pale skin drops from the ceiling, so suddenly I almost bite my fucking tongue off in fright. Yet when she doesn’t move again, I go to sneak past her, but as I do, she shifts a little closer so our bodies touch.
“I can hear your bones moving,” she whispers, and it sends a shiver down my spine. What a weird-ass thing to say.
“If you walk any slower, you won’t find me.”
I turn toward the sound and peer through an open doorway. The room is empty except for a single bulb hanging from a chain.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Everywhere. You didn’t think I would make it that easy, did you?”
I scan the room but can’t see a speaker in there.
“What are you scared of, my paper-cut princess?”
I chuckle at the nickname. I can’t say I hate it. Call me babe, on the other hand, and I might punch you in your face.
“Nothing,” I say as I search further.
When I turn a corner, the next room I have to pass has a large observation window, and inside an actor turns to face me. He is wearing a white lab coat and is covered in blood, while someone lies on a metal table behind him.
“Everyone fears something. Wanna know a secret? I’m scared of the silence in my head.”
“Bears,” I tell him, leaving out the embarrassing part of the story. I close my eyes for a second as a shiver rolls down my body.
“It’s not just bears, though, is it?” His voice moves again. Now it sounds like it is coming from up a set of stairs. “There’s a song, and something about it gets right under your skin, doesn’t it? Even now, just thinking about it.”
“Vero.” My tone is filled with caution.
“Do you want to go on a bear hunt?” His voice is low, taunting now. The change tells me he wants inside my head, and he is using this to do it. Yet I haven’t felt this excited in a long time.
“I will find you, and then I will end you,” I threaten.
