13. Aurora
13
Ihelp Charlotte into her apartment. As she settles onto the couch, I can see the disappointment etched on her face.
“I’m sorry, guys,” she says, her voice weak. “I know how much you were looking forward to tonight’s carnival, but I don’t think I’m up for it.”
Dan nods, his expression somber. “It’s okay, Charlotte. Your health is more important. Besides, I think it’s best to steer clear of the carnival until they move out of town.”
The carnival on Halloween night had been something I’d really been looking forward to, especially if the blue-eyed, masked man was the one who put the cameras in my apartment.
“You’re probably right,” I reply steadily. “Whoever hurt Charlotte and stalked me is probably with the carnival if he was wearing one of the masks. It’s not safe for any of us to go back there.”
Charlotte reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I know how much you were looking forward to it.”
I force a smile, trying to hide the turmoil raging inside me. “Our safety is more important than some silly carnival.”
But even as I say the words, the memory of the man from the haunted house still lingers in my mind, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s the one who hurt Charlotte. The one who put the camera in my home. The one who I gave a dirty show to last night.
Dan clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Why don’t I make us some tea? It might help us all relax a bit.”
I nod, grateful for the distraction. As Dan heads to the kitchen, I settle onto the couch beside Charlotte.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, glancing at my friend.
She sighs. “Fine, just really tired. The doctor said my fatigue might persist for a week or so.”
I nod in response as silence falls between us. My emotions are so screwed up right now. I feel so bad that I ever even told Charlotte about the feeling I was having. If I’d kept it to myself, this never would have happened.
Dan returns with the tea. The warmth of the mug seeps into my hands as I take it, providing a small measure of comfort. Dan and Charlotte chat about work, the weather, and the latest gossip, carefully avoiding any mention of the stalker or the attack.
“Did you hear about the new bakery on Main Street?” Charlotte asks.
Dan nods, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I heard their croissants are to die for. We should check it out sometime.”
I try to focus on their conversation, but my mind keeps drifting back to the carnival and the man who haunts my thoughts.
“Aurora? You okay?” Charlotte’s voice snaps me out of my reverie.
I force a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Tired, I guess.”
Dan gives me a sympathetic look. “It’s been a rough couple of days for all of us. Maybe we should plan a movie night or something when Charlotte is up to it, just to take our minds off things.”
Charlotte’s eyes light up at the idea. “Ooh, that sounds perfect! We can order pizza and binge-watch some cheesy rom-coms.”
I nod, grateful for the distraction. “Count me in. I could use a good laugh.”
As they discuss movie options, I’m hit by guilt. Here I am, fantasizing about a man who may have hurt my best friend while they’re trying to plan a normal movie night to cheer us all up.
I clear my throat, knowing I should be alone when I’m like this. “Thanks for the tea, you guys. I think I’m gonna head home and get some rest.”
Charlotte looks at me with concern. “Are you sure, Aurora? We can watch a movie here if you’d like.”
I shake my head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m really tired after everything that’s happened. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Dan looks at me sympathetically as I gather my bag. “Take care of yourself, okay? And let us know if you need anything.”
I nod, giving them each a quick hug before leaving.
The walk home is uneventful, but my mind is racing. I should heed Dan and Charlotte’s warnings, but a part of me can’t let it go. Once inside my apartment, I breathe deeply. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing out on something important.
Without overthinking it, I head to my bedroom and rummage through my closet. My hands move almost of their own accord, pulling out a skimpy Halloween costume I had purchased on a whim but never dared to wear.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I slip into the costume, admiring how the tight fabric hugs my curves. The low-cut top and short skirt leave little to the imagination.
I apply dark makeup, accentuating my eyes and giving me a sultry look. I can hardly recognize the woman staring back at me as I glimpse myself in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, I grab my keys and head out the door, my heart pounding. The streets are busy with trick-or-treaters and people heading toward the carnival, all in costumes.
As I approach the carnival grounds, laughter and music fill the air, beckoning me closer. Adrenaline courses through my veins, a heady mixture of fear and excitement.
Without hesitation, I slip through the gates, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the masked man haunting my thoughts.
I weave through the carnival crowds, my eyes darting from one shadowy corner to the next. The excitement and fear coursing through my veins are a heady mix. The idea of finding the man who has been haunting my thoughts is exhilarating.
Suddenly, a scream pierces the air, and I freeze. This isn’t the typical scream of someone startled by a carnival fright or scare actor. No, this scream is different—raw, primal, and filled with genuine terror.
I see a group of teenagers running away from a darkened area, their faces pale and their eyes wide with fear. Without hesitation, I move toward the source of the commotion.
As I round the corner, I see him. The man I’m here to find. He’s tall and imposing, with broad shoulders and a menacing aura that seems to radiate from him. In his arms, he holds a terrified brunette girl with a knife against her throat.
I freeze, my breath catching as I take in the scene before me. The man’s back is to me, but I can see the terror in her eyes.
The girl whimpers, her body trembling while she tries to break free from his grasp. But he holds her tighter, the knife pressing harder against her delicate skin.
He traces the edge of the knife along her cheek and then speaks, “Scream for me,” he growls. “Let me hear you beg for your life.”
I stand there, transfixed by the scene unfolding before me. The man’s low and menacing voice sends chills up and down my body. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak and his voice is so deep, and I’m shocked by a twinge of jealousy as he holds the girl close, his knife pressed against her throat.
“What the fuck?” The words escape my lips before I can stop them, and I see the man freeze, his body going rigid.
What the hell am I thinking?
I know how dangerous it is to reveal myself to this psycho. He’s clearly unhinged, and I clearly have a death wish.