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A noise similar to heavy furniture being moved around sounds from above.
“Not the attic,” I moan to myself.
My neck tingles, and a sensation of being watched makes the hairs on my arms rise.
I don’t turn around despite wanting to check if someone or something is behind me. “Hey, Gerald. We come in peace. Please don’t kill me or my naïve friend who doubted your existence. I swear he didn’t mean it when he said ghosts aren’t real.”
The feeling of being observed never goes away as I walk toward the stairs leading up to the attic.
I pause at the bottom step. “Julian? Are you up there?”
The door to the attic is shut, and a soft light that matches Julian’s flashlight pours through the bottom crack.
I press a hand against my chest, right over my racing heart.
You’re Dahlia Muñoz. You’re not afraid of anything.
Says the woman diagnosed with anxiety when she was a teen.
Despite my stomach churning, I climb the stairs beforestopping in front of the attic door. After a second of hesitation, I roll my shoulders back and turn the knob.
The door opens with a creak, and I take a cautious step inside. Another blast of cold air hits me from behind, and the door slams shut, causing me to jump in place.
“Hello?” I’m afraid I might burst into tears if anything else happens.
Soft scampering has me turning my flashlight in the direction of the noise.
“Oh, fuck!” My phone drops as I let out a bloodcurdling scream.
A massive, fuzzy spider with beaming red eyes, incisors the size of my fist, and legs the width of my thighs stares back at me.
It moves, and I lose my shit.
“Julian!” I scream.
Light floods the attic, and it takes me a few seconds to process the laughs of the two walking dead men hiding behind the support beams.
“I’m going to kill you!”
Their laughs cut out as they show themselves. I completely ignore Rafa as I launch myself at Julian. He catches me, locking my arms behind my back before I have a chance to wrap them around his throat.
“Gotcha.”
“I hate you!” I lift my foot, only to smash it against the wood floor as Julian avoids my stomp.
He tugs me closer to his chest. “That’s not nice.”
“Neither was setting me up to believe you died!”
Rafa chuckles at his phone screen before the sound of me crying out Julian’s name fills the room.
“I can’t believe you helped him with this.” I jab a finger at him.
Rafa shrugs. “Julian was right. Thiswasfun.”
“Fun? I’mtraumatized, you jerk.”
The sound of my screams echoes off the walls as Rafa replays my video again while he walks toward the stairs. “Can’t wait to send this to the family group chat.”
