Chapter 2
LILA
They don’t move.
The three of them, black mask, white mask, burlap sack, they just stand there, spaced out around me like pieces on a game board. Silent. Still. Watching.
I take a slow step back, careful not to snap a twig or crunch gravel. The fog stirs around my ankles like it’s trying to follow. My eyes dart from mask to mask, waiting for one of them to lunge, to scream, to do something.
That would make this easier. Normal, even. Predictable.
But they don’t.
Ilook for an exit, but the maze doesn’t work that way. It winds, loops, and twists with no logic. The path behind me is swallowed by shadow. The lights above flicker low and uneven, like they’re dying one by one. The air’s colder now.
Too cold.
I turn left. Start walking. Slowly, trying to keep steady.
I don’t run… Not yet.
Corn rustles on either side of me. The walls are high, too high to see over, and tight enough that brushing against them makes my arms itch.
I hear a laugh somewhere behind me, sharp and sudden. A girl’s voice.
Then silence.
My breath is louder than it should be. I try to calm it, try to act unfazed, like I’m still just playing along.
But the air tastes wrong.
It’s damp. Metallic. Like rust and dirt.
Something brushes the back of my hair.
I spin around. Nothing.
No one.
I press a hand to my chest. My heart is a hammer now, fast and hard, but not from panic. From… something else. A kind of electric awareness, crawling down my spine.
They’re still back there. I know it without looking.
And sure enough, when I glance over my shoulder, I see the white mask, just barely visible through the gaps in the corn.
Farther back, the black mask, deeper in shadow.
The one with the burlap sack is gone.
My stomach tightens. He was the biggest. The quietest.
He could be anywhere.
Ipick up the pace.
Turn left, then right. The paths all look the same. Every corner feels like it’s been watching me. The lights grow dimmer the deeper I go, and the fog gets thicker. I brush past a scarecrow slumped against a post and nearly jump out of my skin. It’s fake. Straw for guts and one eye missing.
I laugh under my breath, but it’s short and shaky.
Another crunch behind me.
Closer.
I whirl.
Nothing again.
No. Not nothing. There, just at the edge of the fog, I catch movement. A figure moving quickly, ducking behind the corn.
They're toying with me.
They’re not chasing. Not attacking. Just staying close and slowly surrounding me.
Stalking.
I should be terrified. Every logical part of me is screaming to find the exit, to get out, but something darker winds up inside me like a clock being set.
Because it’s not just fear I feel.
It’s thrill.
I’ve never been hunted before.
Never had three strangers circle me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Like I’m prey… A prize.
I turn another corner, faster now. My foot catches on a root, and I stumble forward, hands catching hard gravel. I curse, hiss through my teeth, and push myself back up.
But when I do—He's there.
The one with the burlap sack. He’s standing at the end of the path. Closer than before.
He made no sound. Gave me no warning. He’s just there.
His head tilts again. Slow. Animal-like. Like he’s studying me to see how I bleed.
He takes one step forward. Just one.
I don’t move. My heart wants to run. My legs want to freeze. My mind wants to understand—what is this? A game? A trap?
A test?
The fog thickens between us, swallowing the path like a curtain being drawn.
And then he’s gone again. It was like he was never there at all.
I exhale, shaking, breath fogging in front of me.