Page 50 of Ghosts of Halloween

A thought strikes me, and I can’t bear it. A hysterical laugh bubbles in my chest, and next thing I know, I cackle while Caden watches me warily, his hands loose at his sides. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, and I’m grateful, because I can’t even articulate the thought. It’s ridiculous and ungrateful considering how much they suffered because of a stupid promise… Because of me.

And yet, I laugh and laugh, because it’s just too funny.

Because apparently, they died too late. Too late to protect me.

By the time they woke up as spirits, I was already broken, and all that’s left to protect is a ghost, too. I’m alive, I breathe. I can walk out of here, but I’m a ghost. Just like them.

When my hysterical, sobbing laughter finally stops, Caden sighs and comes closer. He puts his rough, strong hands on my shoulders and peers into my face, head lowered to match my height. “It’s a lot to take in, I bet. Do you have questions? Would you like me to hold you?”

I shake my head to both, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with him. He just gave me so much pleasure, made me feel so utterly beautiful and wanted, and what did I do? I trapped him here. He can’t pass on because of me.

I feel ashamed and so small, I want to shrink away and never see him again. Never see any of them. Even though logically, I know it’s not my fault. I wasn’t the one who asked for that promise. Noah was.

But then, so what? Am I truly not to blame? I always relied on him. Sure, I tried to become independent. I tried to take care of myself, had a job, did what I could to get a good boyfriend so Noah wouldn’t worry… But in all that, he was my rock. The one person I could always trust.

I relied on him so much, he couldn’t even die in peace. His last thought was about me, and his last deed was to trap his friends while trying to protect me. Itismy fault. I should have been less of a burden.

“Thank you,” I tell Caden, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll, um… The bathroom. I’ll go wash up.”

“Before you go,” he starts.

I look up, waiting for him to finish, but instead of saying more, Caden folds me into a hug. His strong, warm arms wrap around my shivering torso, and he presses me close until my face is buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in the clean scent of him. I shiver harder, wanting to fall apartso fucking much, but I force deep breaths down my throat, gritting my teeth until my jaw hurts.

I want to melt into Caden and let him take care of me, but I won’t do it. I can’t. I’ve already caused enough damage.

“Thanks.” I pat him on the back awkwardly and pull away, avoiding his eyes. When I turn, Caden doesn’t stop me again, and I pick up my dress and a candle on my way out.

I find the bathroom quickly. The toilet’s filthy, but the shower looks clean enough, so I take off my prosthetic, lay it on a chair, and step under the weak spray of cold water. In the glow of my candle, I can just see a bar of soap, stillwet and a bit sudsy, and I pick it up with a strange mixture of sheepishness and pleasure at the thought Caden just used it.

But those feelings threaten the fragile equilibrium inside me. I’m numb, doing my best to wall off everything but the most immediate thoughts—like navigating to the bathroom, showering, looking for a towel. So I bite the inside of my cheek hard, swallowing the tears until I am calm again.

I wash with Caden’s soap, refusing to dwell on it any more than necessary. I haven’t found a towel, so I just shake the water off as best as I can, dry my stump with my dress, and put the prosthetic back on, cursing when my shaky hand can’t get the job done fast enough.

I was cold before. Now, after the chilly shower, I’m freezing. My teeth chatter, my body rigid with the loss of heat. But I don’t even think about getting warm. This biting cold grounds me, just like pain does.

All I want is to get dressed. I keep worrying one of them will come in or fall through the ceiling, and they’ll see me completely naked, without the arm. I can’t risk it now. Before, I might have let Jack touch my stump, but now…

I shake my head, barring those thoughts from my mind, and put the dress on my damp, shaking body. It does little to help me get warm.

Since I didn’t bring my shoes, I walk out on damp feet, cringing when dust clings to my soles. In the hallway, I stop, gripping my candle and doing my best not to freak out. But truth is… I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to just run. Hide under my blanket on Janet’s couch and lick my wounds alone.

But I can’t. I owe these men, and I can’t just leave.

Or maybe I can’t leave, period. After all, they locked all the doors. They are keeping me trapped here, right along with them. And for what? Just to fuck?

I lean against the wall, my shaky exhale making the candle’s flame dance, distorting the shadows.What do they want from me?I ask myself thisquestion properly for the first time since I arrived. First, I was scared shitless. Then, horny and overwhelmed. And scared again. And… yes, horny again.

I’d facepalm myself if I had the energy, but it is what it is. I am a slut, after all. At least I finally got to enjoy myself.

But even though I want them and love the things they did to me, I can’t help but think I’m not here just to get them off. I frown, thinking, until my eyes grow wide with realization, my heart beating faster when I finally guess what it is they must want from me.

I keep them here. So maybe, I’m also the one who can set them free.

Following the faint murmur of voices, I go up the stairs, bare feet silent on the steps. Candlelight flickers under the door to the room where they first tied me up. It’s closed, and I approach it, hands shaking with trepidation.

I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I can’t help myself.

“…when she asked about Noah, I thought… with us… it’s the only other way.” Jack’s voice sounds urgent but low, only bits and pieces reaching my ears. Silas replies, so quietly, I can’t make out his words, and steps thud on the floor.

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