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Danika shakes her head and covers her face with her hands. “I hate scary movies. They give me nightmares and I’m about to walk into one.”
“Actually you're about to walk into, like, six,” Sarah declares beside us. I shoot her a shut-the-fuck-up glare but she’s too stoned to comprehend.
“Baby,” I pull Danika’s shaking hands off her face and stare down into her eyes. “We don’t have to do this. We can do a movie or mini golf or pretty much anything besides the haunted house.”
“No. I want to.” She insists. “It’s for a good cause.”
I pay our entry fee and wait for our guide to start the tour. I recognize the chick,
dressed as not a vampire but it’s victim. Tricia is her name, and she was one of the few girls I hooked up with more than once last year. Four times, actually. Luckily, Danika’s buried her face in my shirt and doesn’t see Tricia wink at me.
Sarah catches it. Points at Tricia. Then pretends to slit her throat with her finger.
Bitch is crazy.
“Welcome. Welcome, everyone,” Tricia says, her voice dripping with faux-British aristocracy. She grins and circles the group. Touches a shoulder here. Twirls a lock of hair there. “Master will be pleased with tonight’s offering.”
“I thought it was zombie and horror movie themed.” Sarah crosses her arms over her chest. “You look like you’ve been mauled by The Ripper from The Vampire Diaries.”
Tricia smirks and dramatically steps towards Sarah. “And your name is what, little one?”
Sarah rolls her hooded eyes, unimpressed. They were both on the cheerleading squad freshman year. She knows her name. “Miss. Mary-Mack.”
Tricia takes Sarah’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. Everyone’s watching, probably wondering if this is ad-libbed or a part of the show. Even Danika’s peeking through her fingers. Tricia sticks out her tongue and licks the side of Sarah’s face. “You’d taste better if you were dressed in black.”
Tricia pushes Sarah’s chin away and struts back to the front of the group. “Master won’t be pleased if we’re late.”
Sarah wipes her cheek with her palm, her expression stoic, then rubs the saliva on her jeans. “That bitch is gross.”
Jake chuckles and snakes his arm around Sarah’s waist. I don’t know when they became an item, but I’m not about to intervene. Jake may be the closest thing I’ve got to a guy friend but he’s a dog. My reputation may be bad, but I look like a saint compared to him.
“Rules,” Tricia exclaims, stopping at the threshold of the second floor. Her fake accent is gone and there’s a seriousness to her voice. “Nothing in there can physically harm you. The knives are fake, the chainsaws chainless, but I warn you. Don’t touch anyone. The moment you do all bets are off. I cannot save you.” Her gaze bounces from each person in line then stops on Danika. “Will not save you.”
Danika squeezes my waist, wrinkling my shirt. I kiss the side of her head and whisper, “Relax, baby. No one’s going to get you. I’m right here.”
Tricia opens the door and lets the group in. Danika and I hang towards the back of the crowd, letting everyone else go first. I figure we can watch where the scarers are and avoid as much of the jumping, creepiness as possible.
“Logan,” Tricia says, grabbing my arm. Danika shifts under me, adjusting to hear better. “Don’t go upstairs. The stairwell at the end of the hallway isn’t locked at the bottom.” And then she leaves. Doubles back the way she came and disappears into the darkness. That’s different from last year.
Danika peeks up at me, “That was weird.”
I hold her closer and run my hand up and down her arm. “Nah, it’s just Halloween fun. Come on.”
Danika squeaks and buries her face back into my chest. I kiss her forehead and proceed to the first haunted classroom. The hallway itself has been decorated to look like an abandoned town. Drop cloths with painted storefronts and tumbleweeds add to the effect. The best part about the hallway, there’s no zombies. It’s a scare-free-zone to give everyone a mini break.
We walk into the first haunted room, a torture chamber of sorts. Zombies try to attack us from every angle but they’re chained to the wall and miss us by inches. As a whole, I think it’s kind of stupid. The corn syrup blood is too light and whoever was in charge of makeup and costumes this year went the Party City route. With the budget we have every year, this could have been more realistic.
“Lift your foot.” I tap Danika’s leg with my hand. She peeks down at the ground, probably to see why, then buries her face in my chest again. “We’ve got to step over a body.”
Danika blindly agrees. The dead body near the end of the haunted room comes to life and grabs Danika’s ankle. Not a big deal, until he yanks, trying to pull her onto the ground. Danika lets out a blood curdling scream and grips my waist tighter.
I can’t recognize the kid, he’s got too much cheap stage makeup on, but he’s determined to bring Danika to the ground. Fucker is starting to piss me off. “Dude! What the fuck? Let go.”
Zombie man hisses and begins to climb his way up Danika’s leg. She’s absolutely hysterical, clinging onto me for dear life. This isn’t supposed to happen. I’ve worked in haunted halls the past three years. There are strict rules. Even if someone touches you, you don’t touch them. Ever.
Something’s not right.
I raise my foot and kick the zombie-kid in the side until he falls off of Danika. She’s shaking, crying, but no longer screaming. I slip my arm under her legs and carry her out of that classroom then kick the door shut behind me. Fuck it if it’s supposed to stay open.
