Page 9 of Haunt

“Arewe? Are yousurethat’s where you are?” He drags me closer, forcing me to stumble over my own feet until my body is only inches from his. “Or did you maybe end up somewhere you shouldn’t, in a game you weren’t invited to?”

“But…”

“Maybe it wasn’t your friends who were in the wrong place, Noa.” I can hear the excitement in his voice, along with something darker that fills me with dread.

“Maybe you wandered somewhere that you shouldn’t have, and now you don’t get to wander back out.”

5

The few secondsof his fingers flexing around my throat while Dalton screams drag out for an eternity. It’s so hard to pull in a breath, even though he’s not really putting pressure on my neck, and I shudder when I hear the sound of the chainsaw cutting through flesh once again.

“You should look,” Ravage murmurs, leaning in close. “It’s so much better if you look.” Without giving me a choice, he crowds closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to force me to turn around.

Dalton is no longer screaming. Part of me hopes he’s not awake, only slumped in the chair as he is with his severed arms dripping blood to pool on the floor below. I bite my lip hard; the pain is stinging and sharp, and a low sound escapes my lips at the sight.

“He had it coming,” Ravage croons, pressing his mask to my face. “Don’t feel bad for him when he absolutely…” he keeps talking, telling me all about the things that should’ve happened, that will happen to Dalton before he’s really dead, but I’m not paying attention.

Ican’tpay attention.

Doll Mask holds my gaze, seemingly unnoticed by the two other masked men in the room. As I watch, she tilts her head to one side, turning to look at something close to me. So I look too, finding a small table full of bloody tools and pieces of…something I don’t want to identify.

And close to my fingers is a knife. A small switchblade that’s still open, mostly clean and just sitting there invitingly. I’mso closeto it, I really could just reach out and…

When I look back at Doll Mask, she nods her head at me subtly, barely noticeable at all while the man with the chainsaw says something to Ravage.

But I’m terrified. Fuckingterrifiedthat if I fuck this up, that switchblade will go straight in my chest and I’ll be the one in the chair about to get her arms sawed off. On the other hand…

My eyes drift back to Dalton, whose eyes are open now and staring dully in my direction. That’s what makes up my mind. I cannot, Iwill notlet that be me. Not while I can still do something about it, anyway. Before I can stop myself, I grab the switchblade and whirl into Ravage’s hold, lifting it to plunge down into his chest.

He’s faster than I expect and he manages to shove away my hand. The shift is just enough that instead of stabbing him, the blade cuts into his arm, deep enough to make him spit a curse but probably not doing any real damage.

At least I keep the knife as he stumbles back. “Youbitch,” he sneers, a laugh in his words as he grips his bleeding upper arm. “Oh, princess…” His words end in a low, threatening growl and he lunges for me, giving me a small opening to lurch past him into the hallway.

Turning, I grab the door, catching sight of Doll Mask from the corner of my eye as she gently holds onto Scarecrow’s wrist. Neither of them is trying to come after me, and a flicker of relief travels through my chest.

When Ravage moves to follow me, I slam the door shut, he collides with the heavy wood before I manage to close it all the way. I hear his snarl of outrage, and a clatter that I hope means he stabbed himself on every sharp implement sitting on the table. Then I turn and flee down the hallway, hoping I’m heading for the right end of it that’ll take me back to the lobby and ultimately the parking lot.

God, I wish I had my phone.

I barge through the door at the end of the hall, grateful that I made the right decision and ended up back in the empty hallway. Without hesitating, I run to the far door, my blood-covered hands slipping around the handle.

This isn’t fake.

I try to turn it, to unlock it, but I realize quickly I’m locked in. Hell, I don’t even know where to begin to look for the keys to this place, and when I hear a yell from the hallway behind me, I decide I can’t stand here and try to wish the door open anymore.

“Fuck,” I hiss, heading to the other door in the lobby. It’s on a different wall than the hallway door, and thankfully, it’s unlocked.

But even as I sprint through the dark room on the other side of it, I still can’t get the thought out of my head that thisisn’t fake.

The eye was real.

The bracelet of gore was real.

The chainsaw cutting through Dalton’s arms was fucking real.

My breathing comes in sharp, uneven pants as I stumble through the poorly lit warehouse, trying not to trip over the construction equipment and furniture that litter the space. A few times I fail, stumbling over pieces of something or scattered lumber with soft curses.

When the door to the lobby slams back against the wall on its hinges, light pours into the warehouse behind me. I turn, seeing Ravage stalk inside before he closes the door, plunging us into darkness again.

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