8. Daisy
Eight
Daisy
We stand at the front door, waiting for our turn.
Part of me hopes it never comes, because this has to be the worst idea that I’ve ever had.
The drugs warp the anticipation into something dizzying and nauseating.
I should have come up with a different plan to make Jason fall in love with me, one that didn’t leave me terrified.
I’ll definitely need therapy after tonight.
My fingers grip Jason’s leather jacket, a strange vibration creeping up my arm. I inhale slowly, and the world seems to breathe around me. If he wants me to let go, disgusted by my physical contact, he’ll have to pry each of my fingers off one by one.
Sweat beads on my forehead, my heart pounding in my stomach with sickening thuds, making my body tremble. Overwhelming heat wraps around me. I know I look pathetic in front of Jason.
“Alright, lovebirds, you’re up.” The ghost at the front door announces. Jason tenses underneath my hand, the leather of his jacket twitching like a sinewy muscle.
“We’re not—”
“Thank you,” I interrupt, flashing a smile at the ghost. I glance at my stepbrother and wink. “Come on, lover.” I force the brightness, pushing through the nerves and nausea, hoping Jason doesn’t see through it.
You already screamed. He knows you’re a loser, my cynical inner voice confirms. Before I can listen to the voice any longer, the door swings open, and the end of the world greets us. I squint, trying to peer through the inky void as my heart stutters.
Actually, I don’t want to go in there.
I go to turn around, to confess that I’m not brave enough. I’ll even say that Jason was right if it means not being swallowed whole by this grotesque lair.
The ghost clears their throat and impatiently waves their hand under the sheet, which becomes translucent before me. My eyes widen and I tilt my head, captivated by the strange sight.
“Come on, chicken shit. Let’s see how brave you really are.” Jason pulls me forward, hand clasped over mine so that I’m unable to escape being dragged into the waiting shadows.
“M-maybe I—” My protests die on my heavy tongue as the door slams shut, plunging us into darkness. I hear a rattling against metal followed by a loud click. My heart sinks. The only way out is forward.
I swallow hard, my fingers gripping Jason’s arm more tightly, the leather warm and alive like feverish flesh. My vision is blank—no sight of my hands, my body, or Jason—only the sensation of his arm keeping me grounded. Without it, the panic inside of me will climb fast.
Jason attempts to tug his arm away, and I stumble, trying to hold on.
“Jason,” I hiss.
“We can’t stand here all night. Move, or I’m running off without you.”
Goddamn it. I know Jason will abandon me in the dark, and I don’t want to be left alone. It’s a terrifying thought. I let out a shaky breath that sounds more like a broken harmonica and take a small step forward. I hear Jason sigh dramatically.
My hand squeezes Jason’s arm, using it as a stress ball, not giving him the chance to leave me behind. I just need time to get acclimated, and then I’ll be okay… maybe. God, how can I flirt with him in these conditions?
“For fuck’s sake, it’s just a dark hallway. You can do this, baby. What’s there to be scared of?” Jason’s voice crackles like he’s speaking to me through a radio. There’s a sharp pop, then a loud, static-filled hiss that cuts him off.
What’s there to be scared of? I want to throttle him for asking such a dumb question. Maybe it’s the unknown. What might be lurking in the shadows, biding its time for the perfect moment to jump out?
But somehow his asshole encouragement is enough to get me moving again.
My foot hits a floorboard that lets out a massive groan like someone is trapped and in pain below. I freeze instantly.
“What the hell,” I mutter. My imagination conjures up images of the house using people as planks, bound together in obscene ways. I lift my foot from the ground, my leg trembling. The things I’m picturing aren’t possible, but I’m terrified somehow they’re true.
With a quiet whimper, I take a step forward and almost sigh in relief when only an eerie wave of quiet drifts through the house.
I take a deep breath. The faint scent of mildew clings to the air, mixing with the earthy smell of old, rotting wood. A faint drip echoes somewhere ahead, and somehow, I can feel the texture of the worn, gritty floor under my boots rubbing against my skin.
I shiver and take another step.
The room is trying to wear me down. It wants to see me fail. To swallow me whole.
My teeth ache from how tightly I clench them, grit coating my tongue as I struggle to contain the fear rising inside me.
“Find the escape,” a raspy voice whispers in my ear, their hot breath tickling the side of my neck, and I scream. I recoil instantly and crash into Jason, a grunt leaving him on impact. My hands scrabble against him, needing the steadiness of his body beneath my palms.
“You’re pushing it,” Jason snaps, shoving me off.
Stumbling back, my arms flail as I try to find something to hold onto. “No no no no. Don’t, Jason. Don’t leave me.”
My hands fumble in the dark, grasping at nothing, fingers slipping through the air. I can’t feel him. I can’t find him.
“Jason?”
No answer.
My stomach drops into my ass.
“Jason?” I try again, desperation clinging to each syllable. Please answer me.
Aside from the sound of laborious breathing, there’s only silence.
A crawling sensation scurries along the side of my neck and down my spine, warning me that I’m not alone.
It could be Jason, but I don’t think it is.
My throat tightens. Hairs on my arms rise.
I think it’s someone else, someone worse.
Something worse. I move in slow, careful increments.
“It’s just a dark hallway. I’m a boss bitch.
I’m capable of anything,” I whisper. I force myself forward even though I want to throw up.
My legs tremble, but the idea of staying trapped in this room pushes me to move, my fear keeping me upright when I want to give in to the despair.
My instincts scream that if I collapse, the floor and walls will close in, smothering me while the house buries me alive.
I don’t want to die here and become part of the house. I won’t die here.
My hands reach forward for balance, and with each slow step, my boot taps in front of me to make sure I don’t walk into a wall…or a person. My heart pumps frantically, jumping up into my throat. I breathe out and the air slams back into my lungs as if it doesn’t want to be in this house either.
“Sunshine and rainbows. Puppies. Sexy men with abs,” I gasp, thinking of nice things to distract myself from the dread that saturates the hallway.
I take another step.
And another.
I sway like a newborn foal, unsteady on my limbs.
A gush of air ripples against my arm and I whimper, clapping my hands over my eyes. If I can’t see anything, I’ll be protected from what’s hiding in the shadows.
Barely holding back tears, I stumble forward, my foot striking something hard enough for the impact to jolt through me. With a gasp I allow my hands to drop beside me. I swing my leg back to double check that the house isn’t deceiving me.
Thud. My boot connects with what I hope is a wall. If there’s a wall, there might be a door nearby.
Hope sparks within me. Maybe I’m at the end of the hallway. But before I can celebrate, a horrible, grinding screech echoes through the space, almost as if someone is dragging metal against metal. My neck curls involuntarily at the noise and I shiver.
“Find the exit.” The voice booms around me. “Find the exit…find the exit.” My mouth emits blubbering sounds against my conscious will, madness taking over.
I fling my hands further out, groping frantically in the dark, and scream, touching something wet.
Something warm. And gooey. I try not to think about what I’m touching because none of the options are good.
Sourness rolls through my stomach. “Oh my God.” I keep moving, trying to find the escape.
“Come on, where’s the door?” The screeching reverberates around me, smothering every coherent thought.
As soon as my fingers wrap around a knob, I gasp and twist, relieved when light filters through.
I throw myself forward and out of that hellhole.
And inevitably into the next.