Chapter 10 #3
“This is new,” Berlyn says, squeezing in between Jude and West, a slight tremor in her tone already.
Summer rolls her eyes, obviously having expected this. “It’s new every year, B.” The doors close with her reminder and a gravelly voice comes over the speaker, but before the words even register my stomach sinks as the elevator begins to fall.
Berlyn and Summer let out similar sounding squeals while Jude curses and West grips me tighter, holding Berlyn with his free hand as if he’s worried she may fly away.
The drop was quick enough to scare the shit out of all of us, but not quite fast enough for any of us to be weightless. Not even the smaller women.
It’s over in seconds, having fallen several floors at least. My heart races and I laugh as the elevator stops. That’s one way to kick start an adrenaline rush, but not overly terrifying.
Then again, maybe I spoke too soon, cause as soon as the doors fly open, we’re greeted by screaming clowns. Blood drips from their mouths and down their necks as they bare sharpened teeth that look anything but human.
Vampire clowns should be ridiculous. But when they bear down on our elevator, brandishing knives in the tight space, while the copper tang in the air nearly suffocates me?
Yeah, my pulse is racing as we push each other forward trying to squeeze out of the elevator with our screams echoing back to us.
I really, really should have read the waiver a little more closely, because I swear this entire place is a liability waiting to happen.
In each room there’s some questionable danger that even when I logically know they won’t do anything to physically hurt us, I can’t help but wonder about the potential of accidents.
Each heart-pounding moment leads straight into a new one. Any peace is quickly robbed by someone jumping out at us, a weapon being pushed in our faces, or feeling as if the floor is about to fall out from under our feet.
We started in a loose formation but with each and every room we clear our huddle grows tighter.
Hands locked together, even Summer grips the bottom of my shirt and Berlyn’s free hand.
Every room comes with a new horrifying theme, new actors, and new obstacles to clear.
I’m starting to see why more than half of the people who do this, tap out.
I never expected to be sweating while we made it through.
As we make it to a new room, I question how large this place is. We’ve already made it through five or six rooms, not including the elevator and there doesn’t seem to be an exit in sight.
I do my best to catch my breath while I can, knowing another scare is likely to happen any moment now. This room almost seems normal at first.
Dark, too dark to see clearly, but nothing immediately pops out at us.
Some areas of the room look darker. I squint my eyes, attempting to see through the shadows to make out what they are, but it’s nearly impossible to make it out in the almost nonexistent light.
The darkest areas all look uniform, roughly the same size and shape and spaced evenly throughout the room.
There’s a slight movement to them and I realize whatever they are, they’re hanging from the ceiling.
“Go, go, go,” Summer starts muttering, pushing my back. A soft whooshing sound distracts me, but as I turn around to look at her I realize the wall from the other side of the hall we were standing in is now rushing towards us.
Jude grunts, stepping forward with Berlyn as the rest of us rush to follow. I bump into whatever is hanging and immediately recoil from the slippery yet firm texture of whatever it is. Berlyn screams at the same time as the same cloying copper scent registers.
Tightly wedged between the hallway that is no longer there, and whatever these massive hanging things are, I can barely make out the way Berlyn reaches her hand up to her face, wiping her cheek and attempting to examine what comes away on her fingers.
I run my hand over my shoulder that bumped into whatever was hanging and it comes away.
It has a thick, viscous quality that almost feels familiar.
Not quite like blood, but so similar it’s impressive. The scent is the worst part of it all.
“Oh, I’m going to be sick,” Berlyn mutters. She must have realized what’s dripping from the ceiling.
“Go, go, go,” Summer prompts, gagging as she bumps into the hanging objects. Jude and I jump into action, pulling West with us, we move in front of the girls. It’s while we push the heavy hanging objects to clear a path for them that I realize what they are.
Pigs.
Slaughtered pigs.
I nearly gag too.
The logical part of my brain is screaming at me that none of this is real, but fuck have they done a wonderful job of tricking the senses. I’m almost mad about it.
We reach the other side, covered in the sticky, awful smelling substance. The only light leading to a steep and narrow set of stairs and I breathe a sigh of relief. At least we’re heading back up. That has to mean we’re close to the exit.
The hope is quickly dimmed when the lights go out, leaving us in pitch black.
Our only choice is to move up the steep and rickety stairs and risk slipping as we’re covered in fake blood, or to go back into the room of pig horrors.
We could always cry mercy, but I don’t think any of us are willing to quit after making it through as much as we have.
Not even West.
The only sound is that of our uneven breathing and my own racing heart.
“Slow and steady,” I suggest. “Hold the wall and the person in front of you. One step at a time.”
Berlyn sniffles and I wish I could wrap her in my arms.
“Why do we do this to ourselves?” she cries and I can’t help but chuckle.
Summer scoffs, but her voice is shaky when she responds, “They weren’t kidding about it being bigger and more intense this year, were they?”
Berlyn’s cries become more obvious and West–at least I’m assuming it’s West–smacks me when I laugh again. I’d normally never find her crying funny, but she’s the whole reason all of us are here and even I’m about to shit my pants as I think about all of us tumbling down these fucking stairs.
“We’re all losing it,” Jude jokes and then curses.
My heart stops before I hear his sigh of relief.
“Made it to the top, guys.”
Oh thank fuck. We’re close. Almost done with this godforsaken maze.
Or not.
As soon as all of us reach the top of the stairs and start down the hallway, smoke bombs start going off at our feet, making us cough as we stumble into another set of rooms. Oh, fuck this.
I’ve lost all sense of time by the time we reach the actual exit and there were multiple times we all thought about quitting. If I had seen the shape people were in when they walked out of here, I don’t think I ever would have agreed to this.
We’ve had our senses overwhelmed with shit falling on us, gone from strobing lights to complete darkness, been separated, gotten stuck in a freezing room after having water dumped on us.
I’ve been shocked, nearly blown over by the wind they managed to manufacture in a long tunnel, and fell more than once when the floors moved unexpectedly.
Oh, and that’s not even mentioning the car that came barreling towards us only to stop mere inches from my face.
Berlyn screamed at that one, crying, “I had really hoped they’d get rid of that one.” It didn’t make me laugh at that point, because I was trying to calm my racing heart and make sure I didn’t piss myself. This was so much more than what we’d heard it was.
Did Summer say bigger and more intense?
I can’t imagine it being any bigger or more intense than that.
I guess the scare actors never did grab us, though they got into our faces, held weapons against us, and used their bodies as shields to separate our group more than once.
Berlyn’s eyes are wide and rimmed red as she takes in the disheveled state of our group. Tear tracks are carved into her black smoke stained cheeks. Her hair is in a tangled disarray and there’s fake blood matted into it. None of us fared any better.
The parking lights above us feel altogether too bright after the darkness of the haunted house. Especially while they illuminate just how terrible we all look.
Berlyn’s lower lip starts to tremble but just as I think she’s about to cry again, a giggle slips past her lips. She slaps her hand over her mouth, but it does little to contain the growing laughter spilling out of her.
It’s infectious with her near manic laughter and soon our whole group has lost all reason as we dissolve into laughter.
A worker appears from behind us, making us jump. He nods his apologies, but his smirk belies the gesture. “Congrats on making it through. Here are five ten percent off coupons to come back next year.”
We all trade looks as Summer holds the coupons and the guy walks away.
Berlyn wipes the tears from her eyes. “Same time next year, guys?” she teases and Weston’s hand flies to his chest in offense as he shakes his head vehemently.
I chuckle and have to agree this time around. “I don’t think a year will be long enough to forget that trauma enough to be convinced to do it again.”
“We’ll take you to a pumpkin patch or something instead,” Jude says, attempting to run his hand through his long waves, but stops when his fingers get stuck in the tangles. “Eurgh,” he groans, “I need a shower.” He looks around at our group which sets off another round of laughter.
“It was nowhere near this intense before,” Summer says with a shudder. “I think we’re done with this tradition, B.”
Please.
Berlyn shrugs. “I don’t know. It was kind of fun.”
She can’t be serious.
Jude gives her a deadpan look. “I thought I was going to die. You thought we were going to die. You literally jumped into my arms and buried your face in my neck when that sadistic butcher dropped from the second floor in front of us.” I smirk at the image.
That must have happened when we were split up but I can imagine it perfectly.
West damn near climbed into my arms at one point too. There are sure to be bruises covering my arm where he was holding onto me.
“While you were sobbing,” Summer reminds her.
West only shakes his head, refusing to comment. Not that he needs to when his thoughts are written plainly across his face. You couldn’t pay him to go back in there.
But Berlyn only continues to smile with no shame.
“And now, we’re all laughing. Seems worth it to me.
” There’s a hint of something in her smile as she glances at Jude.
Something warm and inviting but it’s gone too quick for me to name.
“Come on. It was kinda fun, no?” she continues to argue, looking at all our blank expressions.
She’s deranged.
Then again, isn’t that the whole point?