Page 3 of Haunt

He’s so close I can hear his breathing under the mask.

He’s so fucking close that my foot brushes his boot. Without a word he turns, stalking back to his side of the room like a pissed off cat and leaning on the wall next to Animal Skull.

As if that’s what they were waiting for, a man in a distorted white mask picks up a remote from a small stool, hitting a button that makes the large tv hanging on one wall turn on. There’s a chair on the screen, and the room looks pretty similar to this one, if not the exact same one. Within a few seconds, someone goes to sit in the chair, leaning forward and tapping their heels on the floor impatiently.

Their mask is featureless. Cloth and thick, it and the rest of their black clothing obscures their features entirely.

“Welcome, visitors.” The voice is clearly filtered to be unrecognizable, and it doesn’t even seem like the masked man is the one doing the talking. He’s too busy looking impatient. “Before we begin, we’ll be passing out the waiver for you to sign. Hopefully you’ve read it over by now and you know what you’ve signed up for.”The man in the chair leans back until he’s looking up at the ceiling, arms resting on the chair limply.

“We will be inviting you back in groups of four maximum. Going in alone is…ill-advised. Your fate may be more bearable if you have someone screaming next to you.”

Yeah, my friends really need to show the hell up. I shoot off another text, sitting back in my chair and crossing one leg over the other. My foot bobs nervously in the air, drawing attention to my obvious discomfort as the video goes on.

“After the waivers are looked over and signed, we will begin. If you decide you’d rather leave than finish your experience, all you have to say to our team are the following words…”The man shifts on the chair, the screen going staticky for a few seconds just as distorted words appear on the screen.

FAIR’S FAIR.

A chair creaks and I glance sideways at one of the girls who’s looking at the screen like she’s seen something that makes her uncomfortable. She glances at her friend, who isn’t looking at her, before settling back in her chair nervously.

Curious, I look toward the actors. Most of them are watching the television, except for one girl in a lacy, torn black dress to go with her cracked, porcelain doll mask. Unlike her coworkers, Doll Mask is staring at the group of visitors and tapping her fingers nervously against her thigh. When she notices, the girl beside her in a clown mask taps her hand, watching her until Doll Mask settles back against the wall.

Weird.

But it also probably has nothing to do with me. My attention trails over the other actors, studying their masks and all black outfits. One of the men has on a mask that reminds me of a Roman Emperor, weirdly enough, is dressed in an all black suit, while another is in a black vest and jeans, his arms bare. Skeleton Mask and Animal Skull are both dressed similarly, in outfits that remind me of something tactical or post-apocalyptic scavenger-chic.

Skeleton Mask’s outfit has more silver rings on it. His black pants fit a little looser, but they’re still tucked into black boots with heavy, thick soles. His tight shirt is pushed up to his elbows, and when he shifts, a line of skin peeks out over his black and silver belt. His hands are covered in gloves as well, with white designs printed over the backs to look like skeletal hands.

As the video goes on to discuss risks, I switch my gaze to Animal Skull, surveying his more subtle outfit. His pants fit a little more snugly, and his shirt is a plain, solid black. His sleeves go all the way to his wrists, where his gloves start. All of it is black and without any accessories.

Except his boots. Sleek black leather climbs his calves, stopping midway toward his knees. The rings where his shoelaces loop through glow gleam bright silver, as does a plate over the heel of the boot and the two buckles interspersed up his leg. I’m pretty sure he must have polished them. None of my boots have ever come out of the box looking anywhere near that good. I also have to assume this is the first time he’s worn them, given the shiny perfection of the leather.

Mine are scuffed the moment I lay eyes on them.

Shifting in my chair, I let my gaze travel up his body, intending on studying the details of his mask before I go back to paying attention to the video.

But my plan falls apart when my gaze finds his, and with a jolt, I realize he’s looking at me. Worse still,he knows I’ve been staring at him.

I blink once, feeling heat rise to my face before looking away from him to study the wall. Anything is better than him, and the wall is the easiest thing to stare at.

Though, maybe it wasn’t the most subtle move to look away from him like I’m ashamed he caught me. I’m probably going to regret it during the haunt, though I’m not sure exactly how he can use my staring at his boots against me.

Great.This just keeps getting better and better.

The movie’s wrapping up, I think, and I look down at my phone that’s been silent for the last few minutes. Turning on the screen again, I navigate to our group chat and scroll through the last few messages before sending a quick one of my own.

Where the fuck are you guys? There’s no way they’re going to make it in time if they don’t get here in the next few minutes. And well, maybe not then either.

A touch to my hair has me jumping out of my chair just as Roman Emperor starts handing out waivers on clipboards with pens. I glance up, eyes wide, to find Doll Mask stroking my hair almost affectionately.

“Pretty,” she breathes softly, too quietly for anyone else to hear, as she drags her fingers down the black and orange strands. “Just so…pretty.”

“Let’s, uh, not oversell.” I chuckle softly, nervous as hell. “No offense to myself, but I know there are way prettier girls in this room. Probably you, too.” Not that I know, but her whole outfit really exudes a gothic kind of beauty.

Her fingers pause in my hair and she steps closer, almost seeming unsure. She glances up, just as Roman Emperor stops in front of me with nothing in his hands. “We seem to have runout of waivers. Someone brought an extra guest,” he tells me in a flat voice.

Doll Mask starts stroking my hair again, and I try not to duck away or do anything she might find hurtful.

Though I’m not sure why the hell I care about someone else’sfeelingsin an extreme haunt meant to break me. My feelings are probably much more at risk than hers tonight. But she just continues to pet me like a dog or a nervous child.

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