Chapter 33
LYRA
The fall festival was one of the town’s oldest traditions, and my favorite time of the year. The leaves, bonfires, and crisp autumn nights woke something in my soul.
The smell of cinnamon filled the car. Pies slid around in my trunk as I carefully turned down Main Street.
Two pies sat in my passenger seat because Grey told me, in very colorful language, that he wouldn’t be attending the festival.
I didn’t blame him, but it was important that I kept up appearances and acted as if nothing was wrong.
Which meant baking the pies and showing up.
By the time I got to the festival, the parking lot was already full.
I circled the lot slowly, hoping a spot would open up.
For once, luck was on my side. An old Honda Civic backed out of a spot.
It was smaller than I originally thought.
Parking my giant SUV in these tiny spots was never easy.
It took me three tries to get between the white lines, and I barely avoided contact with the car to my right, but I did it.
The boxes had shifted during the drive, but none of the pies appeared ruined besides a few crumbled crusts.
“Lyra, you can place them right here.” My entire body tensed as Mr. Whitethorn’s voice drifted from somewhere behind me. I turned slowly, a small, tight-lipped smile on my lips, trying and failing to keep my hands from shaking.
“Alrighty.” My voice shook. Sweat coated my palms as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. I tried to keep my features neutral, pushing down the paralyzing fear. His eyes narrowed like he could read my thoughts. No, I was just being paranoid.
“So, have you given any thought to where you’re going to put the torch when you win?” I asked, trying to make small talk.
Twisted Spires was a town full of old traditions. When a new mayor is elected, they pass a torch to the winner, symbolic of leading the way for the townspeople.
“If I win the election.” Mr. Whitethorn corrected. “I had made a spot for it in my study, but I guess I’ll have to find a new place to put it. You wouldn’t know who started the fire, would you?” he said with a slight edge to his voice.
Every muscle tensed, and my eyes widened at the question. Was this his way of accusing me? “I thought it was an accident. Faulty wiring or something.”
He grabbed the last few pies from my hands, grazing my fingers with his own. Goose bumps spread up my arms, and by some miracle I kept from recoiling at his touch.
“The fire chief had some interesting notes in his report.”
“Oh…” was all I was able to get out.
“And one of the servers mentioned a girl and a guy coming out of the study right before the fire broke out.” His smile turned feral.
“I wish I could help, but I was so enthralled in your speech I didn’t notice anything.
I can’t wait to hear your speech tonight and the plans you have for the town.
” I rambled on, slowly backing away. “Well, I promised Kenna and Emory I’d find them when I got here.
” I turned without saying goodbye and fled, putting as much distance between us as possible.
I ducked behind one of the many amusement park rides and bent over, placing my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath. I inhaled deeply, trying to fill my screaming lungs with air when I felt someone’s hand on my back.
I jumped at the sudden contact. Clutching my chest, trying to keep my heart from beating right out of it.
“Are you okay?” Kenna asked.
“Yeah,” I choked out between deep breaths when I realized who it was.
“We got flower crowns!” Kenna shook one in front of my face.
A sweet floral scent filled the air as I placed the vibrant crown, bursting with wildflowers on top of my head.
“Sorry we didn’t wait for you. We didn’t want all the good ones to be gone.
” Kenna continued, moving a rogue daisy from her face.
Each one was different, but beautiful. Kenna’s was full of daisies, Emory’s carnations, and mine, wildflowers.
“Thanks. But I’m still pissed at you both for ditching me. I had to bake two dozen pies all by myself.” I huffed, readjusting the crown so it didn’t fall off.
“Well, I’m still pissed at you too. But in the spirit of the fall festival, I say we call a truce for tonight.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
Emory clapped as a giant clown head came into view. My gut twisted. “Oh my god, we need to go into the funhouse!” she laughed.
“No,” I shook my head. I hated that place. When I was nine, a worker hid inside and followed me through the entire place, scaring me shitless. I couldn’t sleep for months after the incident, and every year since, I dreaded going inside.
Some of my most traumatic childhood memories centered around that awful place.
Cal laughing while the employee had to take me out the side exit, or Eli leading me through the entire thing while I kept my eyes shut.
How they had the audacity to call it a funhouse was beyond me.
It was fake advertisement, and someone should sue them.
“That place is my own personal hell, and you know that,” I hissed at Emory and Kenna as they sprinted for the entrance, but I reluctantly followed. I didn’t want to be caught alone with Mr. Whitethorn again.
They had already gone inside when I got there. I entered the first room, and it was empty. Neither Kenna nor Emory waited for me.
“Guys, this isn’t funny.” I walked through the open mouth of a clown because nothing screamed fun like being swallowed whole. The floor beneath my feet began to shift, making it almost impossible to step forward. I took a deep breath. Get your shit together, Lyra.
I staggered, fighting to stay steady until, finally, the floor stopped moving. But just as I thought I had control, the ground began to tilt, leading to a hallway of different sized doors.
I turned left and opened the door to a room full of mirrors.
“Kenna. Emory,” I whisper-shouted, but no one replied.
I should have waited for them outside. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” I repeated the word over and over with every step I took deeper into the abyss, or as others referred to it—the room of mirrors.
Around the first corner, I found the first dead end.
And why did it always reek of urine? Did people get stuck in here long enough that they had to pee?
I turned again to find my reflection staring back, and I almost dropped to the floor.
I slowly lifted my eyes back to the mirror, and something caught my attention.
My eyes shot to the mirror to the left, but I saw nothing.
“Emory, if that’s you, I’m going to murder you, and no one will ever find your body in this stupid house of horrors.”
Something brushed against my arm as I felt a hand reach around, grabbing my neck from behind. “For someone who can see the dead, you seem quite scared of your own reflection.”
A hand covered my mouth to muffle the scream that drained the breath from my lungs. I focused on the mirror, and amber eyes stared back.
Somehow, I’d gone from terrified to turned on in a matter of seconds.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, hoping we were alone.
“Watching you, little witch. But that wasn’t enough. I needed to feel you. Touch you. Taste you.” His good hand slipped between my thighs, shoving aside my thong, rubbing small circles on the sensitive spot.
I couldn’t help but grind against his hardening erection.
“Watch how your body reacts to mine.”
I reached back, stroking him over his jeans just as he slipped his fingers inside me.
“Look at how beautiful you are. When you stumbled into that basement, I knew you were going to be my salvation, but did you realize I would be your damnation? That I would drag you to the depths of hell to keep you with me forever.”
Grey thought he was dragging me to hell, but in reality, I would follow him anywhere. I would willingly give him anything he asked for.
“You’re too pure and too good, little witch,” he said, sinking his teeth into my shoulder.
“Lyra,” Emory’s voice echoed through the room.
Before I knew what was happening; the warmth at my back and between my thighs disappeared, and then I was alone.
I was wound so tight from being brought so close to the edge and denied release.
A frustrated growl escaped my lips. Grey owed me an orgasm.
“Ye-yeah,” I stuttered, trying to get ahold of myself.
“Is Kenna with you?”
“No, I’m by myself.” Shit, that was a weird thing to say, but my brain wasn’t fully functioning at the moment.
“Ummm, okay,” she said, her reflection bouncing off the mirrors around me. I turned in circles, trying to locate the direction she was actually coming from.
“I really fucking hate this place,” I muttered under my breath, clenching my thighs tightly together in frustration. Grey was nowhere to be found, and if it wasn’t for the wetness between my thighs, I would’ve thought I imagined the entire thing.
We continued, conquering rope bridges, strobe lights, dark corridors, slides, and so many other stupid obstacles. After what felt like an eternity, we exited the stupid place.
“Do you see her?” I asked, scanning the area. “Let me try to call her,” I reached for my purse only to find it missing. I must have left it in the car in my haste to get away from Mr. Whitethorn. “I don’t have my phone. You’ll have to call her.”
I continued looking. All the faces blurred together but no sign of Kenna. Or Grey.
“It went straight to voicemail,” Emory said, trying to call her again.
“Have you seen the blonde girl we went in with?” I asked the ride attendant. The young teenager with a face full of acne shook his head, not even bothering to look up as he took the tickets from an eager young couple.
“I can’t believe you guys left me in there all alone.” Kenna’s voice spilled from the exit.
“We looked all over for you and couldn’t find you,” Emory said, ending the call.
“Stupid ball pit. I dropped my phone and had to dig it out.”