Page 20

Chapter

Twenty

I feel Hayes’s eyes on me, searching, trying to make sense of what’s happening. Mirrors surround us on all sides, cracked and distorted, warping reality into something twisted and wrong. I stand in the center, and I can see her—Liliana—overlapping my reflection, a ghostly figure superimposed over mine. Her eyes are cold, furious, filled with endless rage. I take a step back, and so does the reflection of Liliana—but that’s not all I see, no—there are more people. A much larger number of people than what’s really in the room. Three women, five men—faces I don’t recognize, crowding the glass. Then I see familiar ones: Griffin, Tessa, Marissa, Jonathan—their images hazy, translucent, as if they’re trapped between worlds.

“Hayes? What…what’s happening?” I rasp, my voice barely holding together, my chest tightening with dread.

Hayes shakes his head, his face pale and tight with fear. “I don’t fucking know.” He grabs my hand, squeezing it tight. “But we should get the hell out of here.”

I don’t move. I can’t. My eyes stay locked on the mirror in front of me, trying to make sense of the twisted images staring back. This can’t be real. “Where are the others?” I whisper, my voice thin and fragile. My mind feels like it’s swimming through molasses, trapped in a fog. Maybe this is all just a nightmare—maybe it’s a bad reaction to Tessa’s gummies. I blink hard, trying to clear my vision, but all I see are flashes of horror—blood, torn skin, and the reflection of Liliana standing where mine should be. “Tessa, Griffin, Marissa, Jonathan… what happened to them?”

“They’re all dead, and you—” Lyle begins, stepping closer, his voice low, insistent.

“Don’t say it,” I cut him off, harshly. “They’re alive. They have to be.” But even as I say the words, doubt twists in my gut. The images in my head—the screams, the blood—they’re too vivid, too real. Their shadowy figures glare back at me from the mirrors, eyes hollow, accusing.

Hayes’s eyes flick to mine, his jaw clenched.

“I didn’t—I wouldn’t—” But even as I say it, I can feel her—the cold, dark presence of Liliana, creeping into my thoughts, my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push her out, but she’s already there, her voice a cold whisper in my ear, mocking me, laughing. They needed to die. They hurt you, Tori. I helped you. I can help you again.

“It’s what happens here. She takes over, gets her revenge through the living,” Lyle says, his voice steady, unnervingly calm, like he’s explained this before. “I warned you this place was haunted. Told you, you might not get out alive.”

“No, no, no. This isn’t real,” I whisper. I want to believe my own words, to believe this is just some horrible dream. But Liliana’s laugh fills my mind, and her grip tightens around my thoughts, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s true! Listen to me!” Lyle shouts, his face flushed, spittle flying. “She looks for the weakest—someone with no?—”

“Shut the hell up!” Hayes shouts back, his voice filled with rage, cutting Lyle off.

The room grows colder, the temperature dropping rapidly with every breath. I shiver, my teeth chattering as I tug my sweat-soaked shirt away from my slick skin, trying to shake off the chill. The mirrors begin to crack, lines spreading out like spiderwebs, crawling across the glass and walls like veins, splitting and splintering.

Liliana’s voice whispers in my ear, a dark seduction. You know the truth, Tori. They deserved it. They all did. And now it’s your turn to finish what I started. The room shudders with her presence, the walls creaking, groaning.

I try to push her out, to reclaim my mind, my body, but the doubt is too strong, her grip too tight. I can still feel the blood on my hands, the terror in their eyes. Did I… did I really kill them? Was it me all along? I don’t want to believe it. I can’t believe it. But Liliana’s laughter drowns out all reason. I cover my head with my arms and begin to scream, the sound tearing from my throat.

I plead with Hayes, “Get her out of my head!”

“I need to get you out of here,” Hayes says sharply, pulling me toward the door. “We’re leaving. Now. Lyle, tell us how to get out of here.”

But then I see it—Liliana’s image behind Hayes, her pale hands reaching, wrapping around his throat. Panic surges through me. “Run!” I shout, pushing him toward the door.

A table slides violently across the room, slamming into the doorway and blocking our path. Hayes curses, a string of panicked expletives. Lyle just laughs, a low, bitter sound. “There’s no way out,” Lyle says, his eyes wild. “Not until she’s done with you.”

“Show us the way out, Lyle,” Hayes demands, his voice rough, deep, commanding.

“I can’t,” Lyle says, his eyes wide and frantic. “She needs her revenge.”

“You’re crazy!” Hayes shouts, his frustration boiling over. “We need to get out of here, now!”

Before I can react, the room explodes into chaos. The wall behind us begins to crumble, pieces of plaster and stone raining down. From the room next door, tables and chairs lift into the air, propelled by an unseen force, slamming into the mirrored walls with violent force. The sound of shattering glass fills my ears, shards flying everywhere.

A chair rockets across the room, smashing into the door and splintering on impact, blocking our escape. I grab Hayes’s arm, yanking him toward the only path that’s still clear, the panic rising in my throat. “This way!” I shout, my voice nearly drowned out by the noise.

But before we can move, a heavy bookcase teeters dangerously, tilting forward. Books start to fly off the shelves, hurtling through the air like missiles. I duck, feeling a rush of air as one narrowly misses my head.

“Hayes, watch out!” I scream, but it’s too late. A thick, leather-bound book slams into the side of his head with a sickening thud. His eyes go wide for a moment, then roll back, and he collapses, hitting the ground hard.

“No, no, no!” I cry out, panic clawing at my throat. I drop to my knees beside him, grabbing his shoulders. “Hayes, wake up! Please!”

The room shudders again, and more objects lift from the ground—a lamp, a broken table leg, shards of mirrored glass—all hurtling toward us. I wrap my arms around Hayes, trying to shield him, but I know I can’t stay here. I grip him under his arms, straining with all my strength, and start dragging him across the floor, every muscle screaming in protest.

“Come on, Hayes,” I whisper, my breath ragged. “I need you… I need you to wake up.” I tap Hayes’s cheek, my fingers trembling. “Hayes, come on, wake up,” I plead, my voice barely holding steady. The chaos around us is ruthless—furniture still flies across the room, crashing into walls, glass shattering everywhere. I look up, searching for Lyle, but he’s gone.

“Please, Hayes,” I whisper, tapping harder.

His eyes flutter open, confusion clouding his face as he blinks at me. “What…what happened?” he mumbles, trying to push himself up.

“You got knocked out,” I say quickly, glancing around at the room tearing itself apart. “We have to move. Now.”

He looks around, his eyes widening as he takes in the destruction. He struggles to his feet, wincing as he touches the spot where the book hit him. “Okay,” he says, voice tight with pain. “Okay, let’s go.”

A loud crack sounds above us, and I look up just in time to see a massive mirror begin to fall. “Watch out!” I scream. Hayes grabs me, pulling me under him as the mirror shatters on the ground around us, sending fragments flying.

“We have to find a way out!” I shout over the noise.

Hayes nods, spotting a hole in one of the mirrored walls—an escape. “There,” he says, urgency in his voice. He grabs my hand, pulling me up. We run, dodging the debris still flying through the air. A chair narrowly misses us, slamming into the wall just behind.

When we reach the hole, it’s jagged and sharp. “You first,” Hayes insists, helping me climb through, guiding me to avoid the worst of the broken glass. As I scramble out to the other side, he squeezes through after me, wincing as the glass rips through his shirt and into the skin of his broad shoulders.

We stumble out into a dark hallway, the chaos from the room still raging behind us. I can feel his breath on my neck, both of us gasping for air. “We have to keep moving,” he says, grabbing my hand again. I nod, squeezing back, and we run.

We race down the dark, narrow hallway. The walls are crumbling, plaster and wooden beams breaking away as the funhouse collapses around us. I can feel something following us—its presence is close, a heavy, dark energy that presses in from all sides. I don’t dare look back. I can’t afford to slow down, not even for a second. Hayes grips my hand tightly, pulling me forward, his pace tenacious.

A sharp turn takes us into another twisted corridor, lined with warped mirrors and flickering lights. I glance to my side, seeing my distorted reflection stretch and bend. But then, just behind me, I see something else. A shadow, long and thin, a blur of blonde hair, moving with an unnatural speed. Panic grips my chest. "Hayes, it's right behind us!" I shout, urging him to move faster.

The hallway seems endless, every turn leading to another, the funhouse playing tricks on us. The ground shakes beneath our feet, and I stumble, my shoulder slamming against a wall. Pain shoots down my arm, but I force myself to keep going. We have to keep moving. We have to get out.

“Tor—” Hayes’s voice is strained, desperate. “If we don’t get out of this?—”

My chest tightens, tears blurring my vision.If we don’t make it out? “Hayes, don’t… don’t say that…” My voice breaks, coming out in choked sobs.

“I fucking love you!” he shouts, his voice raw, filled with a fear that mirrors my own.

“I—" My words are cut off as something sharp slices across my arm, ripping through fabric and flesh in an instant. A scream tears from my throat as I clutch my arm, feeling the hot rush of blood pouring down. The pain is immediate, blinding—a searing agony that shoots up my arm and into my shoulder. My skin feels like it’s been peeled back, the rawness exposed to the cool air. Every nerve is on fire, and I nearly collapse from the shock of it.

Hayes’s hands are on my arm in an instant, his eyes wide with alarm. "Tori!" he shouts, catching me before I fall. He sees the blood, his face going pale. "We have to keep moving. I know it hurts, but we can't stop here!"

I nod, gritting my teeth against the pain. My vision spots, but I force myself to focus. I push through the burning in my arm, the slick warmth of my own blood dripping down to my fingertips. I bite back another scream and keep running, leaning on Hayes for support. The walls are shaking harder now, pieces of the ceiling falling around us.

“There!” Hayes points ahead, where a small, broken window offers a way out. It’s high up, but it’s our only chance. “We have to climb.”

He boosts me up first, his hands steady despite the chaos. I grit my teeth against the pain in my arm as I pull myself up, the jagged edges of the broken glass cutting into my palms. I scramble through, my legs kicking against the wall, and drop down onto the other side. Hayes follows quickly, pulling himself through just as a massive beam crashes down where we stood a moment before.

We tumble out into the night, falling to our knees in the cold dirt outside. Moonlight washes over us, cool and pale, and for a moment, I just breathe, my body shivering, my arm screaming in pain. I can feel my blood soaking into my shirt, the wound throbbing with every beat of my heart.

Behind us, the funhouse groans like a wounded beast. Carnival music plays, distorted and eerie, mingling with the sounds of laughter that shouldn’t be there. It’s wrong, all wrong, and I know we can’t stay here resting for too long. I know we need to keep running.

“We should burn it,” Hayes says, his voice rough with exhaustion. “Burn it to the ground.”

I nod, clutching my arm, trying to stop the bleeding. “How?” I ask, my voice hoarse and raspy. “We don’t have anything… no matches, nothing to…”

Hayes glances around, desperation in his eyes. “We’ll find a way. We have to.” But there’s nothing here but grass and dirt, and the funhouse is built of wood soaked with years of damp and rot.

The ground beneath us trembles again, and we know we can’t waste any more time. Hayes pulls me to my feet, and we bolt. We sprint through the dark forest, branches scratching at our skin, roots threatening to trip us. My arm burns with every step, the pain radiating through my body, but I force myself to keep going.

Gravel kicks up under my feet as we hit the parking lot. I stumble and fall, scraping my palms over the tiny sharp rocks like a cheese grater.

“It’s okay,” Hayes says, his arms around me, lifting me up. “I’ve got you.” He gets me to my feet and tucks me solid against his chest, then drags me along until my legs start working again.

We burst through the front doors of the mansion, the weight of the old wood slamming against the walls, echoing like a gunshot. The air inside smells like flowers on the verge of death. “Hayes, where are we going?” I pant, struggling to keep up as he pulls me through the dark hallway.

“The kitchen!” he pants, his voice firm, his steps sure. He doesn’t look back, just keeps running.

“What? Why?” I cry, panic tightening my chest. “Hayes, please, let’s just get in the car and leave! We need to get off this property!”

“No, Tori,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s the only way to end this. We need to make sure she can’t follow us.”

I still feel Liliana’s cold, dead grip around my chest, squeezing tighter, making it hard to breathe. “But if we get far enough away, maybe… maybe she’ll lose her hold…” I’m gasping, tears streaming down my face. “Please, Hayes, please!” I need to get out, now. “Please!”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps running. We burst into the kitchen, and Agatha is there, her face pale and frantic. “What are you doing?” she screams, her eyes wide with terror. “Go back! She’ll kill us all if you don’t!”

Hayes doesn’t stop. He heads straight for the industrial-sized stovetop, turning all the gas knobs to the maximum. I can hear the hiss of the gas escaping, the sharp, acrid scent filling the air. “Hayes, what are you doing?” I shout, fear clawing at my insides.

“We’re going to blow this place to hell,” he replies, his voice cold, determined. “Agatha, you’ve got two minutes to get out of here before it goes up in flames.”

Agatha’s eyes go wide, her face twisting in horror. She drops the knife she was holding, the blade clattering to the floor. Without another word, she turns and runs out of the kitchen, her footsteps pounding down the hallway.

The smell of gas intensifies, filling every corner of the room, making it hard to breathe. I can feel it creeping into my lungs, heavy and toxic. Hayes grabs an aluminum tray—the one Agatha used to make cinnamon buns earlier—and shoves it into the microwave. He slams the door shut and turns it on, setting the timer for ten minutes.

“Hayes, I think that only works in movies…”

Immediately, the microwave starts to spark and pop, bright flashes of light inside, tiny explosions of metal. “Go, Tori!” Hayes yells, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door. “Run! Now!”

My body screams at me. My arm, my legs, everything hurts. I sob as we run, and Hayes grips my hand tighter.

We burst through the front doors, the night air hitting us like a cold wave. We keep running, my legs burning, my lungs aching, and just as we reach the end of the gravel drive, a deafening explosion erupts behind us. The force of it knocks us to the ground, and I can feel the heat searing my back, the rush of hot air burning my skin.

We hit the ground hard, rolling across the dirt, and I scramble up, turning to see the mansion engulfed in flames, fire roaring up into the sky. The windows shatter outward, glass flying like deadly shrapnel. The roof collapses in a thunderous crash, sending up a plume of smoke and embers.

Hayes crawls over to me, pulling me close, shielding me with his body as debris rains down around us. The heat is intense, blistering, the flames reaching higher, consuming everything in their path. The sound is deafening, a roar of destruction that drowns out everything else.

For a moment, we just lie there, holding onto each other, breathing hard, watching the mansion burn. The old walls crack and splinter, beams falling like matchsticks, the entire structure collapsing in on itself.