9. Daisy
Nine
Daisy
“Finally. I thought you had died.” Jason sneers. Relief hits me so hard my knees nearly give out, my shaking body pressed against the door. I’m alive. I’m okay. “You’re pathetic,” Jason mutters.
“Give me a second.” I breathe deeply, my heart sounding like thundering hooves in my chest. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” I only need a moment before I spring up and plaster on a fake, practiced smile. I need to get back to my original plan—make Jason fall in love with me. “Wow, that was so much fun.”
Jason snorts, clearly amused. “That’s almost as funny as Debbie saying she loves Jerry.”
I scowl and glance over at my stepbrother, who looks unfazed, as though the hallway was just a walk in the park.
We face off in a silent confrontation, and I come to the realization that Jason waited for me.
He could have left as soon as he escaped, but he didn’t.
I quickly duck my head to hide my grin while I consider what this means. He likes me.
When I’ve collected myself, I let my gaze sweep over Jason.
Tattoos peek out from his jacket. A skull and thorns, bold against his skin.
They’re hypnotic, gently moving in swirling patterns as if projected.
Just looking at him, grounding myself in something beautiful, lets my frantic heart ease from frenzy to something sweeter, slower.
Fuck. He’s so hot.
My eyes trail down, taking him in. I wish I had found a way to take Jason to a nudist beach instead of a silly haunted house. I could be basking in the sun and admiring the newest landmark—his cock. That would have been so much nicer.
“Are you done looking at me like I’m meat?” Jason drawls, and I smile brightly in response. Our conversation is already perking me up.
“Yes, in fact—”
A high-pitched scream erupts from somewhere behind us, and my eyes widen. A girl rushes into the room, bright neon light trailing after her.
“I’m just trying to find the exit,” she cries.
Her voice is tangible, each word heavy with despair that clings to me like a coat.
I stare at her face, the saltiness of her tears lingering on my tongue, a taste that feels real in my altered state.
I can’t help wanting more of it, as if the flavor itself is part of the labyrinthine illusions that surround us.
“I hate this damn house,” she continues. The words swirl around in my mind, adding to the surreal vortex of my senses.
I pull my gaze from her and take in the room.
It’s a seemingly normal bedroom with a double bed and end tables.
Even with knowing something is hiding, that this could be the biggest trap in the haunted house, the familiarity relaxes me.
Soft waves of air nudge my body, and I sway as if being rocked by gentle tides.
The sensation is trippy, and my skin buzzes. Reality is slipping sideways.
My eyes fixate on the patterns slowly expanding across the walls.
The shapes morph into a mandala, its lines shifting and growing with impossible fluidity.
The room is breathing. I’m distantly aware of a loud bang and the girl’s shout of relief, but the vivid patterns command my attention, making it hard to pull away.
“You gonna look at that wall all day?”
“But it’s so pretty,” I say, particularly drawn to a section of radiant yellow. I can somehow taste it. It’s mango—sweet, citrusy, unreal in my mouth. My fingers reach for the glowing color, drool sliding down my chin in a daze.
Jason grasps my hand and pulls me back from the wall. His steady presence brings me back for a moment, and I meet his eyes, anchored by his gaze even as it sweeps me into another world.
“That’s the acid talking, idiot.”
Somehow, I forgot that I took drugs. I burst into giggles, unable to stop until my stomach hurts. “Acid can’t talk, stupid.” I wipe my tears away while watching a scowl contort his face.
The rustling of leaves in the wind snatches my attention.
I watch the lamps sitting on the bedside tables ripple and stretch before my eyes, transforming into tall trees with glossy, hyperreal foliage.
I inhale deeply. The air is filled with the scent of grassy pine, and imagined sunlight warms my skin.
The sensation echoes memories of the place I lived before Grimwood.
The mandala shifts before my eyes, morphing once more, this time into my childhood home.
Waves crash against the rocks, white sand brushes against my skin, and the most gorgeous trees stand tall, waiting for us to lie under them after a swim.
Something grabs my ankle, interrupting my daydream. I squeal, breathless, looking down to see a skeletal hand clutching my leg. My eyebrows crease as I try to make sense of the sight and I laugh, watching it scurry back under the bed like a little monster.
The room begins to fill as more people enter, and any lingering fear fades.
Bodies move through the space around us, faces lost to me, but their energy presses against me to skim over my skin.
My shoulders loosen, the tension draining away, and I tip my head back, the air biting against my neck like a kiss that almost hurts.
“You’re losing your mind,” Jason grumbles.
“My mind is open. I can feel something else in here with me.”
“Yeah, there’re people in this room, idiot.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “No. There’s someone else in my mind.”
Jason rolls his eyes and steers me toward a walk-in wardrobe. Frustration flickers on his face, and my steps slow. A toxic green light bleeds into my vision, spider webs glimmering along every inch of the ceiling and walls, weaving an intricate, shifting tunnel that pulses with movement.
“Woah.”
My head pivots rapidly, eager to take it all in.
The lights around me are alive, their colors swirling and twirling through the air in hypnotic, dancing patterns that pull at my awareness, making it hard to distinguish what’s real from what’s not.
If it wasn’t for Jason pushing me forward, I would have sat on the floor all night, immersed in this rhythmic psychedelia.
The wardrobe opens into something unthinkable. Red is splattered across the tiles, the shower curtain painted in dark splashes. I freeze. The bathtub is full of blood, and something shifts beneath the surface.
I try to turn around, but my body moves wrong—too heavy, too slow—as if something invisible keeps reeling me back.
Get Out Now is painted against the cracked mirror, drawing to mind my favorite cheesy horror film. Jason stands behind me, and I stare at our fractured images. My face doesn’t look like mine. It’s as if somebody else is wearing my flesh. I tilt my head, and my reflection contorts the other way.
Jason smiles, though it bends unnaturally high, and as he opens his mouth wider and wider, I notice his teeth have become pointed. It’s a grin that’s all wrong, but I love it. I’m drawn to everything twisted and horrible because it reflects what I am on the inside.
I’ve always felt out of place in the world, but this chaos is comforting. There’s a rebellion in craving what others fear, a thrill in knowing that something so wrong can feel so overwhelmingly right. That’s why I’m drawn to Jason. He understands me, even when I don’t always know myself.
A gasp tumbles out of my lips as mirror Jason grips my hips, fingers digging into them hard enough to bruise. Something about the pain, the roughness of it, makes everything in me awaken. Give me more.
I wonder if begging or promising him something would get Jason to fuck me against the sink. I clutch the ceramic basin, watching his reflection lick my neck, his split tongue dragging twin lines of saliva. Even knowing it’s just the acid making me see my desires come to life, I wish it were real.
My obsession with Jason began the first time he fixed those intense eyes on me the day Mom and I moved in.
It was like seeing color for the first time in a gray world.
From that moment, no one else could compare.
And no one else could have him. Even as he glared at us over the balustrade, repulsed by our presence, I knew that I wanted to make him mine.
I lean back, imagining his hard length pressing against my puckered hole while his hand snakes around my neck, choking me hard enough to see stars sparkling in the darkness. Even if I passed out, I’d want him to keep going. Warmth ignites once more between my thighs.
“You good, Daisy?” Jason asks, snapping me out of my fantasy.
His voice brushes over me like a touch, nearly pulling a moan from my throat. My eyes flutter shut and I lean over the sink, breathing deeply.
“Great…just great.” I reluctantly open my eyes and turn around.
Jason looks at me curiously. I wish I could read his mind, unwrap his layers. I know we’d be good together if he let me in. Soon, a voice tells me.
“Alright. Hurry up, or we’ll be here all night.” I watch him walk away, each step leaving a glowing footprint. I sigh and follow Jason’s phosphorescing trail, wondering how to make us happen.