Page 10 of Ghosts of Halloween

I look around again and listen, but the house is eerily silent. That silence seems heavy, though. Ripe with anticipation, and it makes butterflies rise in my stomach.

As quietly as I can, I move toward the back door and try the handle. It won’t even budge, no matter how hard I try to turn it. The door is locked.

I take in a quiet breath, release it, and finally remember my bag.

It’s still on me. And maybe there aren’t any weapons inside, but all my essentials are. I look around, but if they watch me, I can’t see them. It seems like I’m completely alone.

Maybe they had their fun and left?

I came here for a reason, I remind myself as I push my hand in the bag, gripping the bottle of Oxy.

Whoever it is, I won’t let them stop me. All they do is help me strengthen my resolve, too. I’m ready.

And I won’t wait for them to come back for round two. My hands steady, I take out the bottle and tip it into my mouth. I put it on the counter, fish out the thermos, and wash the pills down with tequila. Then I swallow more. And more.

When the bottle is empty, I throw it in the sink and take out the other one. I don’t do half-measures. If I want to OD, I will go big or not at all. I swallow the pills and drink. My stomach rebels, nausea twisting my insides, and I cough, leaning against the sink and gripping the edge. I breathe through my nose, determined to keep it all down, and slowly, my stomach settles.

I straighten and bring the bottle of pills up to my mouth, when suddenly, something slaps it out of my hand.

The pills rattle, scattering all over the floor, and I whip around, trying to find whoever did this. But I’m alone. There is nobody here… Until I hear a voice right behind me.

“Not so fast, princess.”

Something hits my head until my teeth rattle, and I fall. Maybe it’s because of the hit. Or maybe the pills are starting to work.

The world goes dark, and I’m glad.

5

Harlow

I wake up sweaty, groggy, and hurting all over. At first, I can’t even open my eyes. Just taking stock of my body and the strange position I’m in takes effort.

My throat burns, and there is an acidic taste in my mouth. I swallow time and again, trying to figure out why it feels this way. And then I know. I must have puked.

All my carefully saved-up pills, gone.

Whoever scared me before… They stopped me. I should have known. Should have checked if they were really gone. But maybe Ihopedsomeone would stop me. Maybe I was a coward, even in this.

Always so afraid.

Feeling bitter and disappointed in myself, I map out the placement of my limbs, reality crashing in through my daze. I snap my eyes open, terror roiling in my gut.

I am upright, but not really standing. More like hanging. My arms are behind my back, tied together, and there is a sort of harness on my upper body, ropes digging into me above and below my breasts. I hang in this harness, suspended, my feet touching the floor. It’s uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt. Feels sturdy, too. The ropes hold me up without a problem.

Fuck.

Still dazed, but much more awake, I get my feet under me and stand, my legs shaking. I open my eyes.

I’m in a candlelit room I don’t recognize from my previous stay here. It’s big and empty, no furniture here at all. No trash on the floor, either. It looks clean but neglected like the rest of the house, the dirty wallpaper peeling off in places.

The candles are clustered in groups, five or more in each corner of the room, giving it a dreamy, unreal feel. Flames dance, wax drips down the sides and onto the wood floor, and occasionally, there’s a soft sizzle.

I can’t see anyone. Thank God, I’m alone.

My breathing is frantic and goes faster by the second as I look up, trying to figure out how I’m tied up. There are two hooks in the ceiling above me, both supporting taut lines of rope. I try to move to the side, and my legs can go a bit, but my torso stays where it is. The rope has no slack at all.

Dammit.

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