Page 16

FIFTEEN

“That was fun,” Rose says with a smile.

“Yeah, if you like to feel your heart jam up your throat,” I respond, then I place my hands over my chest to feel the rapid beating of my heart. “They’re good,” I admit, talking about the actors. “This place isn’t some cheap haunted carnival.”

“It’s one of the best in the country, I think. They say it’s different every year. Different themes. Zombies. Slashers. Chainsaw-wielding masked men going after you.”

“Do you think it’s real?” I ask.

“What, the chainsaws?”

I nod.

“I don’t know. They sound and smell real,” she says, like she’s contemplating. “You could smell the gas, but I don’t think the chain is spinning.”

I smile. “What if they forget?”

“Oops,” she says playfully, and then laughs as a chill runs down my spine.

We make our way to the end of the queue for the next haunted house. This one is the furthest in the park. It’s right before the third circus tent with black-and-white stripes over the top.

The moon hangs low right behind the peak of the tent. The wisps of clouds skirting beneath. I glance at the sign on the house to decipher the house’s theme, but all it says is, Come in and die with me.

“What is this one about?” I ask, to see if she has a clue.

She cranes her neck to see if she could find something that would give it away.”I think it’s life and death. ‘ Come and die with me .’ We’re alive, and whatever is in there wants you to die with it.”

A shiver flashes down my spine in anticipation of what I might find. The last one was scary. In one room, a clown sat at a table, devouring the guts of a man. The next room, a clown wielded a real-looking machete like a scene from a horror flick.

The line to this house is shorter compared to the other six houses. Maybe because it’s at the end compared to the other rides, and it’s darker on this side of the park. The fog machines blow thick fog like heavy clouds hovering over the ground.

They exchanged confused glances before turning their attention to the attendant manning the entrance. He’s saying something, but we’re too far to hear.

“What’s going on?” I ask Rose, hoping she can hear what they’re saying.

We both watch the guy suddenly give the attendant an exasperated look and walk inside alone, without the girl.

“One at a time!” The attendant announces. “One at a time!” He repeats.

“That explains why the guy looked pissed,” Rose says as we both watch his girlfriend look around nervously like someone is going to save her from walking inside alone.

When she goes in, a loud scream pierces our ears.

“I’ll go first,” I tell her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s a haunted carnival, right? We’re supposed to get scared.” I look straight ahead. “It’s kind of the point,” I mutter before walking inside.

“Be careful,” she says behind me. “I’ll meet you on the other side.”

Once inside, the darkness cloaks me like a blanket. I can hardly see in front of me. As I turn a dark corner, the walls seem to pulse, or perhaps it’s the sound of my heart pounding. The house looks and feels real, like it’s abandoned and I’m trespassing.

When a door slams behind me, my heart pounds in my ears. The rooms are dimly lit, and the floors creak with each step I take. I know it’s fake, but once you’re inside and alone it all seems real. The walls, the sounds, and the flickering lit sconces casting shadows over the wallpaper on the makeshift walls.

I turn left and find a couch covered in cobwebs. The room’s wallpaper is peeling and drips with blood. There is green mold on the corners of the tables. On the other side of the room, there is an imprint on the couch, like someone just got up. Footsteps sound from behind me. A large shadow moves across the wood on the floor, causing the air to grow thick with dread as it presses against my stomach.

I try to shake the feeling that I’m not alone and can sense someone in the room. I can feel their eyes watching me but keep walking and turn right into a makeshift master bedroom. The sheets on the bed are splattered with dried blood under the dim light. There is an ax hanging off the headboard, as well as various types of torture devices. They all look real like items used in a massacre.I’m almost tempted to reach out and touch them but stop, my hand in midair.

The door shuts behind me, causing me to jolt. My vision blurs, transporting me back to that night.

There was so much blood on the bed. The walls. The floor. I blink away the memory and feel the air shift in the room.

Someone is standing behind me.