Page 2 of Scaredy Cat
It’s a catchy title.
…But that would be cruel of me.
“Accidents happen,” I reply, getting to my feet with a wince. “And I made it through the whole thing except to the chainsaw guy out back, right?” I ask lightly, hoping I’m right. Mike nods, head still in his hands. “So really, I got to enjoy the whole haunt uninjured.” I try to keep a teasing tone in my voice, but judging by the way bloody flannel girl is frowning at me, she’s not fooled by my reassurances.
Maybe she’s not impressed by this place either.
Even with my best people skills and mollifying Mike as much as I can, it still takes another ten minutes before I’m back in the parking lot with my keys clutched in my hand and a square, neon bandaid slapped over my knee. The burn aches every time I bend my knee, and I can’t help my little wince as I get in the driver’s seat and bang it against the console.
“Great.Wonderfulstart to the season,” I grumble to myself. “Really, I can’t imagine anything better for the start of Halloween.” Even though it’s still September, I decided to start going to haunts a week early this year. Clearly, that was a mistake. I should’ve stuck to my schedule and startednextweekend, at one of my favorite haunts in the Chicago region.
Butno. I just had to take upScare Factoryon their offer, since it’s so close to my home in Town of Pines, Indiana. Surely, it wouldn’t be that much of a commitment.
Or so I thought.
Mediocre. This place is mediocre at best, dangerous at worst, and now I have to figure out how to say all that nicely in my writeup for theScaredy Catblog.
On the bright side, I never committed to actually talking about it during a video. Usually I save those for compilations or big haunts, and it’s a lot harder to hide my real feelings when people can see my face.
As I’m pulling out of the parking lot and mentally navigating to the closest coffee shop for my fix of late-night caffeine, the familiar tones ofHalloweenplay through my car, prompting me to pick up my phone, glance at the unknown number, and answer it anywhere. While it definitely could be spam at nine pm, I’m so bad at saving numbers that it could also be someone important.
“Hey, Persy?”The male voice on the other end sounds a little unsure.
“Hey, yeah. This is me.” There’s a confused note in my voice as I try to place the caller.
Before I can ask, the man goes on. “This is Trevor from Squad Ghouls.”Oh, right. The paranormal investigators. While I’m not a super fan like some people, I can’t deny that their web series has been picking up traction lately. “I was just making sure we’re still on for tomorrow? I know I’m not usually the one calling you, but Blake left his phone in his car.”
“Uh, yeah. Totally.” I pull into the parking lot of a small, lit-up coffee chain and put my phone on speaker so I can order through the app. “Six pm, right? At the gas station near Hangman’s Road?” I have my doubts about whether the old abandoned house they’ve apparently found thanks to theirfollowers istheHangman’s Road house…but who am I to judge? My stomach flutters a little, though. Other than when I stream a horror game I’m playing, I haven’t done enough livestreams to really get used to them.
But that’s different. That streaming is controlled, and just me. This will be out in the wild, with other people, and in a place I’ve never been.
I should’ve taken up Madison on her offer of scouting it out and mapping the place before tomorrow, but it hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal. Clearly, I was mistaken, given the anxiety starting to make me feel a little nauseous even though I’ve got almost twenty-four hours until the event.
“Anything you need me to bring?” I wait until the app dings with the green checkmark signaling my order is ready, then I pull out of the parking space and head for the drive-through.
“Just yourself,”Trevor assures me. “We’ll be hooking your stream up to ours so your viewers will automatically get in on our polls and everything. This will be so great for our brands, and we really appreciate you doing this with us, Persy.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile at the woman as she hands me my extra-large iced coffee and my bag of two apple cider donuts. “I’m excited. Truthfully, I haven’t done something that’s scared me in a really long time.” A really,reallylong time, honestly. “Maybe this’ll be the thing to change that.”
“Oh, I have no doubt Hangman’s Road will make a believer out of you,”Trever promises, eagerness obvious in his voice.“The stories I've heard are insane. You’ll definitely be scared and believe in ghosts after tomorrow. We’re good at provoking ghosts.”
I have my doubts about that, but I don’t say it. That would ruin the whole little thing he’s got going on and be rude of me. God forbid I’m rude, and they end up saying something mean about me on their blog.
Not that it would be the first time.
“For sure,” I agree automatically in my happy-content-creator voice. “I’m seriously looking forward to it. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Six pm sharp.”
2
Skimmingthe post about last night’s haunt on my blog, I still don’t know how I managed to get through my review without using the wordsmediocreorrug burn.I’d been pretty nice, all things considered, though I like to think I’m always pretty nice even when I hate somewhere I’ve been or a movie I’ve seen.
The rug burn on my knee aches, even a day later, as if to remind me just how mediocreScare Factorywas. When I absently reach down to rub it through the fabric of my leggings, I briefly wonder if I should’ve worn something a bit more comfortable than leggings, a skirt, combat boots, and a t-shirt with the public service announcement,All men are cremated equalwritten in big letters.
God, I hope this investigation into a house that’s probably short on electric and heavy on bugs and mold doesn’t take me all night. While I used to love going to ‘real’ haunted places, I’ve been let down too many times to be excited about this one. But according to both Brynn and Madison,Squad Ghoulshas gone too viral this year for me to have backed out of the invitation. Maybe they’re right. Maybe thiswillget me more viewers than my normal organic growth does.
Or maybe I’m here in the middle of nowhere-Indiana at a gas station without working bathrooms just to waste my night tripping around an unexceptional old house.
