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There are no more doors or windows in this room. Plain walls with a simple wallpaper. No furniture or decorations aside from a single painting of an entrance hanging on the background wall.
Frowning, I approach it. It’s odd and out of place. Too big for it to not mean something. It stands out. Besides, the design is straightforward, like it states an obvious message.
A clue.
I walk toward it, grab the edges of the frame, and yank it from its hook. Behind it, the small outline of a door appears hidden by the thin wallpaper, keeping it shut. There’s no knob or keyhole. So, I’m guessing the paper is the only thing holding it together.
The new way out.
“I need a key,” I ask, moving a hand around.
The guys pat their pockets and a few seconds later, I get a car key dropped on my palm. Quickly, I insert it in the outlines to cut it. My heart drums at the beat of the banging coming from outside. Shaking my head, I focus on the task to fling open the small wooden lid.
Dim purple lights construct the length of a tunnel out of the room. Wide enough to be a regular hall, but it doesn’t have any other way out, just this one and the exit. I peek inside to find out it’s filled with water. This is what they meant by damaged clothes.
“Let’s go,” I swing my head in its direction, and it’s when I realize that the banging has stopped.
Either he’s given up, or there’s another way for him to sneak up on us.
Maybe this is the end of his area.
This only brings disappointment because I’m nowhere near done. I might be sick for admitting this, but the idea of him chasing me through the house was oddly thrilling. There are so many things I fantasize about that would have my grandmother clutching the pearls of her rosary. I am too far gone to be saved by her prayers andAve Marías.
Burying the disappointment deep into my core, I duck to fit into the small entrance to the tunnel. Unfortunately, the entry isn’t too small for the jocks to fit through. It’d be easier to get rid of them if it were. My boots make a loud splash as I jump inside, and the rest of the group mimics the sound.
Jen mutters a string of curses. “This is perfect. You’re going to pay for these shoes.”
For the first time since we started the game, a chuckle climbs up my throat.
“You wish.”
“I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Steve interrupts, “but I swear to God something touched my foot.”
He’s not lying because a second later, I see a swish in the dark water. The unmistakable zigzag causes my larynx to clamp up. Another splash flashes around us, going through our legs.
Nausea rolls through my stomach.
There are snakes.
I don’t know if they’re fake or not, but the idea of having reptiles touching my body ignites a fresh need to flee. Losing control of my actions, I wrap a hand around the wristband, fingers almost grazing the sensor to call a staff member to take me out of here. It’s an immediate response that my brain doesn’t even register. Triggered by unknown fears I’d never faced before.
The only times I’ve seen snakes have been at the zoo when a glass separates us. I’m not a fan of them, though. Scales make the bad tingles roam my body. A shiver runs down my spine as the grotesque image of a serpent slithering over me pops into my brain. It doesn’t matter if they’re fake. They drag the same, and I can’t help but sprint to the end of the tunnel, consumed by a surge of terror.
For the first time tonight, I don’t worry about my friends. No one matters other than myself, even going as far as pushing them out of the way so I can run faster and get out of here.
I want to escape this fucking water.
I need to see what’s under my feet and make sure nothing else is touching me. I’ve never given thought about what dark waters disguise but now it’s embedded in my brain. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go for a night swim, even in pools. No one knows what can hide underneath, and I’m not willing to find out.
The mind is a powerful thing when it plays tricks on you, poking at your fears, and fooling you into thinking something’s real when it’s not. Because what if… What if this is an unethical place waiting to be shut down because they terrorize the attendees? One never knows when an establishment might take it too far.
I know I paid for this—to be frightened, to experience such a macabre scenario. However, it doesn’t mean I can’t get scared. I feel like I’m three seconds away from having a premature heart attack at twenty-two years old.
I’d rather be chased by a masked man a hundred times over.
Where’s Silver Mask when a girl needs him? He can swoop in with his prop knife and end this game already. I’m ready to drop everything.
Pins and needles prick along the length of my arms, sending shivers down my fingers. My pulse races in my ears and all I can hear is the swoosh of the blood rushing through me. The sense of panic is undeniable. It traps me in its web, minimizing the surrounding area. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the walls of the tunnel have shrunk.
