AllFreeNovel
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I give them a once-over, noticing the pristine shoes and tailored jeans. All brand new and expensive. It’s easy to profile them from their appearances alone. They carry themselves with an absurd confidence, and not the sexy kind. It’s in the annoying way that comes off as stubbornly cocky. Nothing more than a bunch of rich, privileged kids who haven’t known an ounce of responsibility in their lives. Spoiled rotten by equally privileged parents.
As much as I can smell their entitlement from a mile away, I can tell what their futures will be like. They’re the people who peak too early in life, after picking on the underdogs, and think they’ll rule the universe. The sad thing is that, in the world we live in, they’ll probably grow up to become some hotshot senator because their daddies helped them get there.
Still, I arch a brow like I am better, and straighten my spine to say, “No one asked for your help, high school has been. Go back to the stupid frat house you crawled out from.” Gently, I push Nancy to the front to install some distance between them and us. “Can’t wait to be separated from them,” I tell Jen.
“Agreed.”
More muffled screams break the tension gathering around us, and I turn my head toward the side exit of the house where the other bouncer stands. That’s where we’ll emerge from once we escape Slashed. Half a beat later, a dark-skinned guy struts out with a triumphant smile.
“I made it!” he shouts, fisting the air in elation.
Our line breaks out in loud cheers, applauding and hyping him up. A worker approaches him with a yellow folder and a plastic medal, and inevitably, the corners of my lips twist into a smirk. They move from the exit, allowing more people to come out, and that’s when I spot him. Not the now-titled final guy, but the man standing a few meters away from the spotlight.
From afar, I can’t tell how tall he is. But there’s something about the aura surrounding him that takes over the place, almost as if he were towering over the house’s structure. Plastic covers his features; the shapes of small horns protrude from the upper corners, and a devilish static grin stands out among the creases of the worn silver mask. White fabric stained with red splashes hug his torso under an open black button-down shirt, and I allow my gaze to travel along the length of his arms to the beginning of leather gloves.
Though I can’t see his eyes with the mask, I swear he stares right at me. His head tilts to the left, and without missing a beat, his hand makes its way behind him for a second. Slowly, as if he has all the time in the world, he pulls it back with his fingers wrapped around the thick hilt of a hunting knife. Holding it up in front of him, he sweeps a leather-clad finger over the edge of the blade, teasing.
He must be one of the scare actors from Slashed. I could give this place a five-star review based on his performance alone, simply because he hasn’t broken character outside of the house.
Even though I know this is an act, the inside of my mouth dries. A spark ignites in the pit of my stomach, almost turning into desire. It’s not logical. I can’t say I’ve ever had a kink for masked men or being subtly threatened with a knife, but watching him, I’m unable to stop the filthy thoughts from flooding my brain.
I’m still staring when one of the jocks slams against my back and I’m pushed forward. Jen and Nance come to my rescue before I eat the ground, holding me steady as I fight to keep my balance.
Cabrón.
A rush of heat settles above my cheekbones, and blood pumps in my ears. Anger fueling me.
“Sadie, don’t.” Jen’s bronze hand clasps around my shoulder, forcing me to face the house when all I want is to turn and give the bastard something to think about. “We’re almost inside. Come on, we didn’t wait this long to get kicked out before we get to go in.”
Her words keep me calm, but barely. I wish we’d had enough time and tickets to bring a group of friends. That way, we wouldn’t have to worry about these assholes. If it weren’t because we’ve been waiting here for an hour, I would walk straight up to the bouncer and ask to be paired with someone else. It’s too late to back out now.
Searching for a distraction, I direct my eyes to the masked man, who hasn’t stopped staring. The hand holding the knife no longer hangs in front of him. Instead, it’s lowered to the side of his thigh, point facing the gravel under his feet. I look down at the blade and notice the low shine reflecting on the metallic surface as he twirls the hilt, fidgeting impatiently.
His position remains the same; still as a statue. However, his demeanor has changed. The energy shifted in the air, erasing the thin line between the caress of a tease and the stab of a threat. A menacing aura sharpens the rough edges of him, making him appear frightening. And it’s when I finally notice that his stance is different. It has slightly turned to the left, away from me, and directed toward the group of jocks who haven’t stopped laughing about the way I almost fell.
About how they shoved me,I correct myself.
Bitterness pools in my mouth, leaving an acrid aftertaste coating my tongue. But it’s not enough to distract me from reacting to Silver Mark.
Chills spark along the skin of my torso, traveling up to my neck, where it descends my spine. Shuddering, I run my palms over the length of my arms, hoping to regain some sense of control. It doesn’t do much to appease the turmoil creating havoc in my core.
“Are you okay?” Nance asks in a sweet tone. Her voice brings me to reality, pulling my thoughts away from the man.
I dip my chin into a nod as I say, “Yeah. I’m excited to start this.” The lie slips from my lips as smoothly as the knife’s surface.
A knot forms in my throat as the memory of him caressing the blade sneaks into the forefront of my brain.
I need to get it together soon. Distractions aren’t something I can afford when I’m ready to kick these guys’ asses.
“Next group,” the bouncer calls, gesturing for us to come closer.
“Fucking finally,” Jen mumbles and pushes Nance forward.
My feet barely move, staying in a spot where Silver Mark is still in my vision.
The bouncer walks toward us, holding seven neon red wristbands with the wordSlashedplastered over them. A tiny flat box lies on top of it, resting on the skin of my wrist when he straps it as he goes through the directions one last time.
“Remember, Slashed works the same way a slasher film would. You may be stained with fake blood, and Slashed is not responsible for any damaged items or clothes. As you signed in the waiver, you consent to be chased and scared by our actors. They will use a variety of props that may look real but can’t do any physical harm and will only scan the wristband. If a scare actor does so, it means you’ve been killed in the simulation, and you will not get to complete the experience. If you haven’t been killed, the game will continue until you walk out of the exit. The one to make it out will receive the title ofFinal Girl, Boy,orPerson.”
