25. Sequin-Covered Freddy Krueger, Stage Ravens, and Blind Knots #2
"Feel around on the floor, get down, shut the hell up, and use your fucking hands!" she shrieks at him, furious.
"You forced me to play the cowboy!" he snaps, tripping loudly over something metallic. "I don't even know how the hell to tie a lasso!"
"Stop, we're here. It's down here."
Selene's voice silences the rest of the world around me.
Selene slips around in front of me. Her hands land on my chest and slide down to my stomach, guiding me downward.
I crouch obediently. Her fingers tangle with mine, guiding them into the prickly straw.
We dig together, and the touch of her skin against mine distracts me for a split second, until I feel the familiar, rough hemp of a rope.
"Got it," I grunt.
"Now the hay bale," she pants, pulling me up. She steps in front of me. I feel her hands flat on my pecs, pushing me backward until my heels bump into a heavy block. "Tie the knot, Ron. Hurry up, we're in the middle of the pack."
I start tying the rope around the hay bale blind. It's pure muscle memory. My hands move on their own, pulling, looping the rope, and cinching the knot with a sharp, precise yank.
Just as I grab the end of the rope, ready to throw my weight forward to drag it, a sharp, desperate, and entirely unscripted scream cuts through the air in the barn.
I freeze, my muscles locking up.
"AHHH! Fuck, no!"
"LIZZIE!" Josh's voice booms, heavy with terror. "Stop! Fuck! She hurt her ankle!"
I hear the sound of bodies colliding, the noise of wooden crates being shoved violently out of the way, and Josh cursing in the distance.
However, no production whistle blows to suspend the race. The game is still on.
"Pull, Ron, pull!" Selene urges me, shaking my arm, adrenaline making her voice tremble.
I grip the rope and throw myself forward, digging my boots into the dirt and dragging the heavy hay bale with every ounce of strength I have in my body.
Selene runs by my side, clinging to my bicep to guide me straight toward the exit, her hip bumping against mine with every step in a blind, symbiotic sprint.
"We're here, the exit, straight ahead!"
We burst through the barn doors. The cold, clean morning air hits my sweat-drenched face. I cross the finish line drawn in the dirt.
"AND STOP!" Aunt Tina yells through the megaphone, hitting a high note.
I rip the blindfold off with a sharp yank, blinking against the milky light of the overcast sky.
I take a deep breath, dropping the rope to the dirt, and immediately turn to Selene.
Her raven hair is a mess, her chest is rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks flushed.
She looks at me with a dark intensity that sets my blood on fire, her hand still clawed around my bicep.
Then, I turn my head to check the results.
To our right, the race for first place has ended in a spectacular tie. Carolina and Indya, and Cade and Cole, crossed the line in the exact same fraction of a second.
Cole is bent double, panting, leaning against his hay bale, but he has a brazen grin plastered on his face as he stares at Carolina.
The ex-princess also has her hands on her knees, exhausted, her brown hair plastered to her forehead, but she fires back a look of pure, devouring lust.
Cade is standing right behind her, breathing heavily, watching her eyes dart back and forth between his brother and him.
Indya, standing beside them, just laughs and claps Carolina affectionately on the shoulder.
We finished third, safe. Closely followed by Levi—who is pulling off his blindfold and giving a reassuring smile to Emma, who is hugging him out of pure joy—and Katherine and Sam.
Then, from the darkness of the barn, Emerson and Susan struggle out. They barely managed to drag the bale across, and the tension between them is thick. Emerson rips his blindfold off and throws it to the dirt in frustration.
"If you had played the cowgirl in this trial, as logic dictated since you are visually more suited for it, we wouldn't have risked elimination!" he growls at her, furious and smeared with fake blood.
Susan looks him up and down, crossing her arms, her eyes as cold as ice, locked in a disdainful silence that betrays massive nerves. They survived by a miracle.
Because finally, the massive double doors of the barn swing open one last time.
Josh slowly emerges from the shadows. He isn't dragging a hay bale.
He is carrying Lizzie in his arms, holding her tight to his chest. He pulled her right boot off, and she is clinging to his neck, her face twisted in a grimace of pain as she clutches her ankle, which is already starting to visibly swell.
A broken murmur ripples through the crew and the contestants.
They are in last place.
And the moment Josh meets my gaze from across the clearing, the reality behind the show hits us all square in the face. I know perfectly well what failing to complete the trial means.
Josh and Lizzie are out. Disqualified.
SPECIAL EPISODE – Behind the Cameras: Popcorn of Salvation, Farewells, and Love Triangles
[The flashing Haunted Spurs logo appears on screen. The static sound of a rewinding tape accompanies the fade-in.]
[REC – HANDHELD CAMERA 02: BEHIND THE SCENES]
The atmosphere behind the spotlights is a frantic tangle of black cables, boom operators sprinting past, and PAs handing out water bottles.
Aunt Tina is at the center of the set, her Freddy Krueger makeup now melting with sweat, as she motions for two camera operators to push in. "I want close-ups on their sweaty faces! Zoom in on the tension! The audience wants to see fear and relief!" she barks.
Next to her, Mayor Nino adjusts his tie, nodding solemnly at Francis, who is scribbling furiously in his notepad at warp speed.
[Slate claps.]
[REC – MAIN CONTROL ROOM: THE SALVATION CEREMONY]
Cold lighting illuminates the main foyer of the haunted house. The remaining pairs are lined up, still covered in mud, hay, and fake blood, their chests heaving with residual adrenaline.
In the center sits an old, 1950s-style movie theater popcorn cart.
Aunt Tina steps in front of them with a solemn, almost theatrical smile. No red roses here. On this reality show, survival tastes a little different.
"You entered this house as eight couples," she announces, her voice vibrating with drama. "You faced the dark, deceit, and fear. But horror waits for no one."
She holds up a classic red-and-white striped paper bag, overflowing with popcorn.
"To those who make it through the night... goes the viewers' reward."
Tina calls the couples, one by one. Levi and Emma. Indya and Carolina. Cole and Cade. Emerson and Susan. Sam and Katherine. Ron and Selene.
Each couple steps forward to claim their retro movie theater popcorn bag. It's the official symbol of surviving the cut.
Silence falls as the camera lingers on the empty spot at the end of the line. Josh and Lizzie aren't there.
[CUT]
[CONFESSIONAL: JOSH AND LIZZIE]
The shot is tight and intimate. Lizzie is sitting on the confessional couch, her right foot bandaged and propped up on a pillow, with an ice pack pressed against her swollen ankle. Her makeup is smudged and her hair is a mess, but her smile is serene.
Beside her, Josh is a mountain of tension.
His jaw is clenched tight, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.
He stares at her foot, his fists clenched, visibly devastated and consumed by guilt for not protecting her from the fall.
Lizzie sighs. She reaches out and gently strokes his tense shoulder.
"Come on..." she murmurs, catching his eye. "I'm so sorry we're out, because the show is really fun but... you don't need to worry like this. It's just a stupid sprain."
Josh shakes his head, looking guiltily up at the lens. "I should have guided you better..."