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That was why I didn’t take off my heels. Presentation was important, and if I was going to roleplay my old bitchy self, then I had to look the part.
Opening the fridge, I pulled out a pitcher of lemonade and poured a glass. Cherry entered the kitchen, announcing herself with a friendlymreow!as she rubbed around my legs. Our tiny kitten had grown up into a beautiful orange cat, with pale green eyes. She was friendly and cuddly with all of us, but she preferred Lucas’s company.
Cherry probably didn’t remember the trash pile we’d rescued her from. Julia still fed the colony of strays, having taken over for Lucas when we moved away. She sent us pictures every few days; she had tried giving all the cats names, but there were too many and she kept mixing them up. But Lucas enjoyed getting the pictures. He’d felt guilty leaving his old friends behind.
I finished my drink and put the glass in the sink before I turned. It was lucky I did, because my hands flew up to cover my mouth in surprise when I found Lucas standing silently in the doorway.
“Shit, Lucas!” I gasped. “You scared me!”
The boys had all chosen similar costumes this year, and I thought they looked delightfully creepy. Jason came up with the idea after watchingHellraiser; they all resembled the Cenobites from the film. Lucas wore a latex suit that zipped up, the collar high enough to come all the way up to his jaw. The suit was made to look as if it was stapled together, accented with lines of metal stitching. His eyes were smudged with black makeup, making them appear sunken and hollow.
He didn’t move, and he didn’t say a word. He just gave me a very small smile —
Then the lights cut out.
The pale glow of moonlight through the kitchen window was my only illumination. The doorway was plunged entirely into darkness, and I heard footsteps — then silence.
“Lucas?” I shuffled forward, my hands out so I wouldn’t bump into the table. But he was gone.
The entire house was dark. They must have turned off the power. With a dramatic sigh, I kept shuffling forward out of the kitchen. “Okay, okay, breakers are in the basement...of course...the fucking basement...”
The door to the basement was in the hallway, under the stairs. The door was cracked open slightly, and there was flickering light within. Before opening the door, I took a moment to hype myself up. I knew it was only a game; the boys wanted to scare me. But I was filled with that giddy sort of fear, the kind where I wasn’t certain if I wanted to laugh or scream.
Finally, I cleared my throat and opened the door, marching down the stairs before fear could overtake me again. My heels clicked on every step, the stairs creaking with my weight. The faint light was coming from the back corner of the basement, near the breaker box.
“Hello?” My voice sounded far too loud as I neared the bottom of the stairs. There were so many shadows, it was impossible to see anything more than vague silhouettes. I should have grabbed my phone before I came down here, or a flashlight...
But where was the fun in that?
I could feel someone watching me as I made my way to the breaker box. A single lit candle sat beside it, which basicallyscreamedthat this was a trap. I would bet anything that the candle was Vincent’s idea. He loved setting a dramatic scene.
But I enjoyed playing the role of the hapless victim. I opened the box, narrowing my eyes as I tried to figure out what the hell I needed to do.
Someone blew the damn candle out. I heard their breath as they did it, and briefly — so briefly I almost thought I’d imagined it — I caught a glimpse of their shadowy face as they leaned forward.
Manson. Holy shit. He’d been standing so close to me and I’d had no idea he was even there.
But now, of course, plunged into complete darkness, I couldn’t even find my way back to the stairs.
“Shit...” I backed up slowly, carefully, my arms outstretched. Having my eyes wide open but seeing only darkness was extremely disconcerting. I couldn’t discern a single shape, but I could hear movement: footsteps all around me.
I raised my voice and said, “This isn’t funny, assholes! Whoever is doing this...” As if I didn’t know. “...you’d better stop it. When my mom finds out you’re fucking with me, she’ll go straight to the principal. You’ll all be expelled.”
It was the kind of threat I would have gone for in my younger years. There was a soft sound, a laugh. But it was shockingly close beside me, and I leapt away in alarm — only to slam into a hard body blocking my way.
Struggling away from the hands that tried to grab me, I scrambled toward the stairs. I could only guess where they were as I flailed in the dark. My foot hit the bottom step and I fell, but I quickly crawled up the stairs, kicking off my heels as I did.
I reached the hallway, got to my feet and sprinted for the living room.
The fire had burned low in the hearth, and the flames cast dancing shadows on the walls. Pale light streamed in through the open window, but it didn’t reach the shadowy darkness of the doorway to the hall, or the doorway that led into the kitchen.
They came at me from both sides.
Lucas and Jason stepped out of the shadows first. Their footsteps were heavy as they strode out of the hallway side by side. Instead of wearing a full latex suit like Lucas, Jason was shirtless, showing off his chest covered in colorful tattoos. His face was painted with skeletal makeup, his eyes darkened, his cheeks hollowed. His trousers were tight leather, covered with straps and buckles. Every time he took a step, the chains dangling from his pants clinked against his other hardware, giving an ominous sound to his movement.
Then, from out of the kitchen doorway, Manson appeared. He was the only one who’d opted out of donning latex. He was still dressed head to toe in black; even his suspenders. As he walked in, he was rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.
As if whatever he was about to do was going to get messy.
