Page 7 of Theirs to Chase

Eveline

Present day

“Fuck, that’s creepy ashell,” one of the influencers from the row before us exclaims, as his friends chuckle alongside him.

I feel like doing anything but laughing; that terrible horror of being watched has come over me once again, and I feel like I’m a lamb waiting for slaughter. Nadia touches my shoulder, making my soul fly out of my skin.

“Are you okay?” she asks, seeing as my face has probably drained of all color.

“Yeah, of course,” I smile at her.

The light suddenly returns, and the cart starts moving forward with a slowed speed, up for a roller coaster hill that will later drop us down. My stomach surges with nerves as we near the drop, before thundering down, the sound all too loud in my ears. Soon after, the cart weaves through the loop going upside down. I close my eyes shut, visions of the car tumbling over the bridge haunting my mind until it feels as if I will puke.

The ride is over within two minutes, but it felt like the longest minutes of my life.

Trembling, I get off the seat, focusing on steadying myself.

“Haunted house next?” I suggest, hoping to avoid another of the roller coasters.

“Yes!” Nadia shouts, excitedly skipping toward where the haunted house lies on the other side of the park.

It’s enormous, with decorations littered everywhere. My eyes catch on another skeleton with a pumpkin mask, sending atwitch of unease through me.

Outside the horror house, they’ve made a graveyard-like location, with old tombstones covered in cobwebs sticking out of the ground, and hands sticking up like zombies. We enter the lane to queue, although no one is before us since it’s a closed event. Surrounded by a gilded cage, old chairs and a table are set, with a hauntingly old tea setup. One of the chairs is overturned.

“Welcome!” A shrill voice startles me until I notice it’s an automatic voice coming from the bushes—I can see the speaker hiding amongst makeshift leaves and blood.

I trail after the others as they enter the haunted house, my heart thudding against my ribs like a caged animal. A chill creeps up my spine as my gut twists in a visceral warning echoing in the pit of my stomach, but I push the instinct aside.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Entering, the first thing we see is creepy dolls moving. Nadia shrieks as she clings to Max’s hand. My entire body is prepared for a jump scare to come any second. A loud bang has us all jolting as a robotic clown bangs on his cage, a sinister laugh following.

Nadia screams and runs ahead, pushing Max out of the way to scramble forward. He laughs at her, and jokingly chases her forward, which has her screaming even louder, the noise rattling my ears, until it’s only me and Elias left. He’s still holding on to the pen and paper, trying to write in the darkness.

“You know you don’t have to write everything down,” I offer him gently.

“It helps me relax—this place is too creepy.”

Yep, too freaking soft for me.

“Come on,” I tell him as we go through the haunted house, following Nadia’s screams and laughter.

A nervous breath escapes Elias as he turns around, eyes widewith terror. “Did you see that scare actor in the wardrobe? He was fucking terrifying.”

“What actor? There are only dolls there.”

He doesn’t say anything as I continue forward, expecting him to follow me.

Lights flicker on and off as I follow the path, venturing into a room where a butcher laughs maniacally, holding up a fake piece of flesh dripping with blood. I jump, adrenaline surging, as the scare registers. Despite the momentary fright, I keep moving, enjoying the exhilarating rush of the haunted house. This is much better than the roller coaster flipping me upside down.

As I follow the sound of laughter, I realize it’s not Nadia’s laughter anymore, but a speaker crackling with intensity. It feels as if a bucket of cold water washes over me when I realize I’m all alone. Suddenly, the thrill of being in here isn’t as exhilarating anymore, and my senses prickle with awareness.

A ghost of a touch slides over me, and I shriek, before I’m pushed up against the wall with a harsh thud, expecting it to be Elias.

But it’s not.

My eyes widen as I spot a white tailored shirt with a black tie. Needles jab at my skin from terror as I stare into the same pumpkin mask I saw last year at the cornfield. I shake my head, willing away the vision before me—this is a sick, twisted joke.

---