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Leaning forward to literally laugh in my face, black slime stretched between the clown’s rotten teeth. He still had the bloody mallet with him, the heavy end resting on the ground at his feet. Someone must have added a fresh layer of gore to the flat side; dark blood pooled around the tip of one obnoxiously long shoe. Thankfully his shrill laughter was short-lived, but he leered at me just as he had before, creeping closer and closer. Too close.
Somewhere inside of me, a little voice whispered,Run.
Half-listening to it, I shied away from the clown. I didn’t run, but I shouldered my way through the crowd as quickly as I could, not even daring to look behind me. It wasn’t until I’d left thering of lights cast by the food court that I realized I was more or less alone, in a dark space between the dining area and the attractions that lay up ahead.
An overwhelming dread clawed at my throat, strangling me from the inside out. Turning quickly, I spied Malcolm and Taylor jogging to catch up. I didn’t know why I thought I would be safe in the dark. Then again, I hadn’t been thinking much at all. Not consciously, anyway. All I wanted to do was get away from that festering clown as fast as possible.
“You ok?” Malcolm asked as I tugged the collar of my t-shirt and fanned it a little, hoping to unstick the damp cotton from my skin.
“You’re like a fucking magnet for the weirdos today,” Taylor added, punching me in the shoulder lightly.
“Speak of the devil.” Malcolm nodded pointedly, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.
The dread returned with a vengeance as I followed his line of sight. Thankfully, it disappeared just as quickly, and I exhaled slowly.
In a patch of light up ahead stood the masked man again, one hand holding the machete and the other clenched into a fist at his side so hard the veins in his non-tattooed forearm were visible. Facing our direction, he ignored his chance to scare the other people walking by, his dark gaze unwavering. If I was a betting man, I’d bet it was zeroed in on me.
I shook my head and purposely went the other way. Taylor was right. For whatever reason, Iwasa magnet—and I was over it, too. It might have been flattering at first, but the more attention I got, the more I questioned why. Was there something about me that screamed, “I’m pathetic! Pick on me?” Of the three of us, I wasn’t the smallest. And I didn’tthinkI looked like easy prey. I was just… normal. Unremarkable in every way.
Before I got too far away, Bane appeared directly in front of me, blocking my path. My head whipped to the rear. The spot where he’d been standing a moment ago was empty.It must’ve been another actor,I thought. There must have been multiple guys in the same costume. Or lack of costume I should say, with the same intricate Celtic tattoo. Like everything here, it probably wasn’t even real, just one of those stick-ons. It was all an illusion, designed to thrill and horrify at the same time. That would explain why I kept seeing him everywhere. Although, it was pretty impressive to find so many guys with the same muscular frame and perfectly imperfect tousled hair. And his eyes. That fucking smolder. Maybe they were twins. Or triplets?
My face flushed when I realized I’d been staring at his abs for way too long, temporarily mesmerized by the way they flexed, the way the specks of blood glistened with each breath. I was in decent shape thanks to the job, butgoddamn.I would have been all too happy to help scrub the blood off of him.
Clearing my throat, I wove around the guy and shoved one hand in my pocket, trying to subtly adjust my growing hard-on. I spied my salvation up ahead—a haunted house.
“Do you want to go in one of these?” I asked my friends over my shoulder. I couldn’t help but glance around for any sign of the guy in the black mask. He’d vanished again. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
Taylor gave an enthusiastic, “Yes,” while Malcolm merely grimaced, trudging after him.
Tucking the stuffed rabbit under my arm, I led the way into the haunted house, regretting my choice the second I was inside. It looked like it was going to be fucking clown-themed. Not that I had a particular fear of clowns like some people, but they werenotmy favorite spin on Halloween or horror. The creepy one that had been following me hadn’t won me over, either.
The interior of the first room was painted with neon colors, glowing harshly under black lights. It was garish, to say the least. My eyes spasmed painfully within two seconds of stepping inside.
Malcolm clung to the back of my jacket and nearly dragged me to the ground when a hidden panel slammed downward with a thunderousbang!Behind us, Taylor laughed.
“This is so sick!”
The next room was painted from floor to ceiling in black and white stripes. I had enough experience with haunted houses to know we weren’t alone. My gaze darted to each of the corners, hoping to see movement, so I would know where the actor was. Malcolm had gone from holding on to my jacket to gripping the bicep that had the bunny trapped beneath it.
I’d just passed through the door at the far end when a man wearing a striped costume jumped off of the wall and shrieked in Malcolm’s face. Malcolm screamed so loud my left eardrum rang. I pulled him through the door the rest of the way, into a pitch-black room.
“I don’t like this,” Malcolm said, hanging on for dear life.
“Keep your eyes down. I’ll guide you through.” Despite that reassurance, his grip tightened to the point of bruising.
As soon as the shadows in front of us shifted, I angled myself toward whatever was coming, putting Malcolm behind me and squaring my shoulders. An all-black creature lunged from the darkness with a snarl, its teeth gleaming as they snapped toward my face. I froze mid-step, my nose a hair away from its jaws. Its foul breath washed over me like a gust of hot air, as wretched as the clown’s had been.
The creature receded into the blackness with a disappointed hiss.
I reached behind me and grabbed a handful of Malcolm’s shirt, shoving him through the nearest door.
“Oh fuck!”
“What’s wrong?”
I had my answer the second I stepped through the doorway.
The room was full of mannequins. Not just run-of-the-mill, department-store mannequins, which were creepy enough. These were decaying, zombie-like mannequins, all dressed up in various versions of the demented clown that had been bugging me. And I knew at leastoneof those bastards was going to move. The question was, which one?
