"I don't have to pay you back, right?" Alex asked, flipping the ticket around as if inspecting its authenticity.
"Uh, no. My treat."
Now moving as a unit, we handed in the tickets to a college-aged volunteer in a black and orange t-shirt and got in line. The sessions, as the staff referred to them, ran early in the evening, and we were there for the eight-thirty—the last. I had tried to time it so that after we went through the haunted house, people would leave and we'd have the property to ourselves.
A chill had arrived since the sun went down, making me glad I'd opted for a chunky sweater over my jeans and t-shirt. There were a few guys in costumes, one wearing a skull mask. His eyes were specks in the dark mask holes. The people in the line were talking loudly, mostly about school, but some of them shared the stories they'd heard about Hell's Orphanage.
I felt excited to see the haunted house itself, even though it merely presented a distraction. I shifted on my feet, growing more impatient every second. I'd lost sight of Ambrose, thankfully, but I kept catching a word or two in his voice carried on the wind.
I peered around the people in front of me. The line snaked to the entrance: double doors beneath the dilapidated staircase. A brief image of victims being fed to the orphanage flitted through my mind. I imagined teeth and a meat-red tongue lurking behind the steel doors. I brushed the elaborate picture away, pulling the neck of my sweater up.
"Are you cold?" Henry asked. Without giving me a chance to reply, he started rubbing my arms, his hands gently moving up and down against the sleeves of my sweater.
"Yeah," I muttered as an afterthought, relishing the feel of his hands through the material. I shut my eyes, my nerves vibrating with his touch.
A couple of girls in front of us, dressed in short skirts despite the frigid weather, were talking about how scared they were. Their boyfriends started comforting them with quiet words. Henry stopped rubbing my arms and went back to his place beside Alex, and I had to stop myself from asking him to continue.
"You females can cling to me if it gets scary," Alex said. I figured he might start beating on his chest like a gorilla any minute.
"Stuff it, bro," Theo retorted. "We can take care of ourselves." Her words came out accentuated by little puffs of vapor.
My phone beeped and I pulled it out of my pocket. Henry's name was on the screen. Sorry, he has a car, read the text. I giggled.
Finally, the doors flew open with an explosion of thick, artificial fog. I couldn't help but be reminded of my dream again. I shut my eyes, willing away any errant visions.
The line moved forward quickly as the crowd shuffled inside, just as impatient as I had been. Soon we stood before the entrance. I took a deep breath, and Theo and I walked into the grim opening. The metal doors slammed shut behind Alex and Henry, rendering the space in complete blackness.
CHAPTER 13
NONE OF US could see a thing.
"Whoa, what the—" Alex sputtered.
The dark inside the orphanage was impenetrable, and I couldn't even make out my own hands as I waved them in front of my face. My heart skipped a beat as I thought back to the night in my room when I'd felt watched. The light sucked out of the bulb.
I'd always prided myself on being brave when it came to monsters and scary stories. But now, thanks to circumstances beyond my control, I was losing my edge.
Blacklights along the upper walls flickered on with a hiss, making Theo's hair glow hot pink.
"That's better," Theo said in a hushed voice.
We were in a run-down, tight room, devoid of furniture. Theo looked around and jumped as she noticed photo collages of severed body parts on the wall, fake blood smeared across them.
"Nice," Henry said, smirking. "A real artistic touch."
Cavernous darkness stretched out before us beyond the reach of the blacklights. The people in front of us had already run past, shadow swallowing any trace of them left behind. The faint strains of an out-of-tune piano drifted from somewhere farther on. I squinted into the dark, but still couldn't make out any concrete shapes.
"Let's go," I whispered, looking at Theo. "This should be exciting."
A tight smile crossed her lips, as though her stomach was upset.
"Are you okay?" I asked her.
"I'm fine," she said in a chipper tone, bobbing her head a little too enthusiastically. "Let's march."
Our group stuck together as we shambled down the hall. I could hear the boys talking quietly amongst themselves behind us, about some military video game.
The first room bore the first scare. Theo wandered into the center, where a trap door sprang open above her, deploying a rubber corpse in a cheap suit. Theo screamed and doubled backwards, crashing into me. She righted herself, but her face remained frightened, her eyes as big as soup bowls, tiny hands clasped beneath her chin.
"Still doing okay?" I asked, concerned. There was no color in her face.
"Just a little scared, that's all," she admitted, smiling with self-deprecation. "I'm a wuss when it comes to this stuff."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. She had seemed as keyed up as me to visit Hell's Orphanage. The boys had stopped talking and were listening to our conversation.
"I didn't want you to think less of me," Theo admitted, looking down at the filthy floor in embarrassment with flushed cheeks. "It's only in situations like this, when there are jumpy scares. The anticipation makes me wig out."
"But you said you liked watching horror movies with me."
"That's different. I know I'm safe sitting on your couch and snacking," she explained.
Instantly, I felt very selfish. I grasped her hand, trying to reassure her. "If we stick together, we'll get through it fast. And I'll never take you to another haunted house again." She nodded, gathering her resolve.
"Will you buy me a shirt?" she asked wryly. "I've always wanted a I survived something and all I got was this crappy shirt shirt."
"I don't think they have shirts," Henry said.
"I'll make you a shirt," I said, grimacing at Henry.
Theo took a deep breath, and we proceeded farther on into the building. Haunted houses were old hat for me, but I quickly became disoriented. Not good, since I was trying to comfort Theo.
Except for the occasional blacklight or colored bulb, abundant shadows made it difficult to see. We made our way through the rooms, swimming through murky space. The shapes around us could have been nothing or anything.
Sounds of other people shrieking farther inside made Theo tense up. We didn't meet up with many of our fellow visitors, as they'd all gotten quite the head start. Every time we heard another shout, Theo would squeeze my hand.
A green monster with bloody fangs jumped out at Theo. She screamed, dropped my hand, and cowered. Rattling loudly, the mechanism the rubber monster was attached to retreated back into its hiding place in the wall.
"See, it's just a stupid old contraption," Henry reassured her, patting her shoulder gently. It still looked like Theo was trembling. Henry and I exchanged a glance; even he looked worried, and he barely knew her. Alex was engrossed in a game on his phone, which was emitting an endless string of beeps and dings.
Again, I felt like a jerk for bringing her there, all for my own selfish reasons. Especially when the odds were that the orphanage would keep all of its secrets to itself and not share any with me.
We arrived at the mouth of a pencil-thin hallway. It was only wide enough for one person to pass at a time, so I led our group, edging forward. Theo followed behind me, taking hold of my hand again.
I had never suffered claustrophobia, but the battered walls suffocated me. Although I'd been looking forward to the cheap thrills, I didn't like being inside Dexter. Not only because of Theo's fear, but also due to a bad feeling that I couldn't quite name.
For one, I kept detecting an odd sensation beneath my feet. A vibration, not a sound; a pulsing beat in the floor, as steady as a heartbeat. A
nd I couldn't tell whether anyone else picked up on it.
There was also the feeling that we were being turned around. The crazy, paranoid notion struck me that the rooms were shifting, that the things we saw kept reappearing and shifting places.
In the next room, a boy our age was rocking back and forth in a creaky chair. His legs were pulled up, knees cradling his pointy chin. He wore torn, filthy flannel pajamas, splotches of pale skin exposed like stains. His tortured eyes were rooted to a spot on the wooden floor.
"He locked us in the closet," the boy gibbered, rocking again, the chair squeaking in time with his movements. "He locked us inside and we couldn't get out."
Next to him was the closet door of which he spoke, I assumed. For a second, I thought I saw liquid pooling beneath it, but when I blinked, I realized it was just another shadow.
The closet door swung open, revealing a row of plastic skeletons that began to shake and shudder. Henry laughed heartily behind me, completely spoiling whatever terror the skeletons were there to inflict. The boy in the rocking chair stopped moving for a second and glared at Henry's disrespect.
Henry quieted down, looking down at his shoes, and the boy went right back into his act. Seeing that made my anxiety abate a bit. I heard Theo chuckle next to me. Discovering the real people behind an illusion always made it easier to overcome.
Henry looked up through his hair and into my eyes, and we exchanged a smile. I felt his hand briefly reach out and squeeze mine, and I dipped my head as heat flushed my cheeks. I'd been too occupied with Theo and the creepiness of Dexter to ruminate on how much I liked him, but the feeling was instantly back, stronger than ever.
A red light cast a bloody glow over the following room. Dizziness swept over me, accompanied by a metallic taste on my tongue that seemed both familiar and wrong, like I'd bitten down on the inside of my cheek. I put my hand up to my mouth, but under the lights I couldn't tell if there was blood or not.
Children's voices filled my ears, high and whining like sirens. I cringed, looking around for the source. I covered my ears with my hands, but it didn't block out the voices. They were talking all at once, and I couldn't distinguish their words. Pushing in, trying to tell me, trying to—
"What's wrong?" Theo whispered. She and the boys had moved on ahead, and now they had all stopped to stare back at me. I opened my mouth to speak and the voices stopped. The metal taste was gone, too, leaving my mouth suddenly parched. I cleared my throat and coughed.
"Nothing," I whispered back, not wanting them to see me afraid, especially Henry. I fished a water bottle from my purse and took a healthy swig, swallowing hard. "I think all the fake fog is making me nauseated, that's all."
"Well, it's a good thing you brought a convenience store in your bag," Henry said wryly, grinning at me. But in his eyes, I could see that he didn't buy my cover-up.
I stuck my sandpaper tongue out at him, and we continued on. It seemed like we'd been there for hours, but according to my phone, it hadn't even been twenty minutes. I just wanted to reach the finish line. We still had a long night ahead of us, if everything went according to plan.
In the next room, broken furniture was piled in the far corner. A discarded playpen sat in the center, and I ran my hand along the splintered wooden rail, tiny spikes needling the pads of my fingers.
"Not exactly child-proofed," Theo noted, peering into the sad, filthy remains of the playpen. A china baby doll with its face smashed, lay beneath a moth-eaten blanket.
A wall of animal cages lined one side up to the ceiling, the kind that pet shops used to house birds and rabbits. Yet the haphazard tower was much creepier, like an abandoned prison, desolate and threatening. As we passed, a disembodied voice suddenly spoke out.
"When the orphans became too difficult to manage, they were kept in cages," the gravelly, genderless voice warbled, distorted. "And when there were too many in the cages, the Master cut down their numbers."
"Where's that voice coming from?" Alex asked, his voice shaking. I had the suspicion he was as scared as Theo. His phone had disappeared, and he was rocking back and forth on his heels as if ready to dash away.
"It's not the dark ages, Alex," I said. "There are such things as speakers." I realized that's where the children's voices must have come from, too. But I kept that to myself, just in case.
"Why, if it isn't the fantastic four?" came a voice ahead of us, definitely not from a speaker. Ambrose Slaughter stood alone, blocking our way. The reek of beer surrounded him like a cloud, and he glared at us with bloodshot blue eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Henry asked in annoyance.
"Having a good time," Ambrose said, shrugging. But I could sense his temper simmering. "I came here to have a good scare, too, but I think this place is a little too dead."
Suddenly, before I could react, he crossed the distance between us and wrapped his hands around my upper arms. I could almost taste his alcohol-scented breath, warm on my lips.
"How about we liven the party up a bit?" he asked me.
My heart hurt from pounding too hard. The others had gone silent behind me. Was Ambrose going to hurt me? Of course he was; this was payback for messing up his plans.
"Hands off," Henry said, as I simultaneously pushed my hands against the rock wall of Ambrose's chest. I would never be able to move him.
His hands tightened around my arms, sending shooting pains through my muscles. "Do you know how much you smell like her?" he whispered, so close that for one feverish, crazy second I thought he might kiss me.
His eyes were that of a corpse. He's dead on the inside.
Then suddenly he was sprawled on the floor three feet away. Henry stood with the fist he'd used to punch Ambrose still up in the air, as though prepared for a fist bump. Ambrose was rubbing the dark red spot on his cheek.
"Nice shot, dude," Alex said. Theo whistled, impressed.
"Leave," Henry growled, standing in front of me protectively. He pointed towards the open door.
"This isn't over," I heard Ambrose mutter as he got to his feet and scuttled off into the dark.
Henry turned to me, and his hands found my arms again, gently rubbing the sore spots where Ambrose had grabbed me. I was too stunned by what had happened and the speed of it all to speak.
"Are you okay?" he asked solemnly, catching my eye.
"Fine. I'm f-fine," I said, choking on my own voice.
A scuffling noise started up behind us, only a rustle at first, then growing louder.
"Oh boy," Henry exhaled and we all turned around to see what he was referring to. Two guys draped in sheets were running full speed at us, their arms outstretched. Theatrical growls emitted from their throats.
"We should book it," Alex suggested.
The four of us took off running as the sheets chased us. A red exit sign appeared on the wall ahead. I propelled myself forward as fast as I could go. I knew logically the boys wouldn't hurt us, but my adrenaline still screamed in response to the atmosphere and Ambrose's unwanted appearance.
As we reached the exit, our pursuers veered off to the left and disappeared, leaving us alone. I heard them laughing as they went. Cool air filtered through the door and I could hear people talking outside.
"Thank god," Theo moaned, stumbling out into the night. "I need a Valium."
I wondered if she was going to throw up. The boys trudged out behind her.
"Always taking care of the women," Alex joked to Henry, who rolled his eyes as Alex elbowed him in the chest. I was about to follow Henry out, when I heard a lone voice.
"Ariel..."
Confused, I turned to my right. I had definitely heard my name.
"Ariel..."
My heart thumped so hard that I worried I'd have to grab it with both hands and push it back into my chest. Whatever was haunting me had followed me there, just like Warwick had suggested.
That had been the plan, of course, but now I didn't know how to respond. A silent pa
rt of me had been skeptical, not thinking it would work. I could still feel the pulse beneath my feet, stronger and more rhythmic than ever. Dexter's heart.
I started to creep down the hall. It was barren, except for a stack of dilapidated milk crates at the end. My vision began to get fuzzy. Blood rushed into my temples.
I'm going to pass out was my last coherent thought as black pinpricks filled my eyes like wasps.
A child is standing in front of me, back against the wall. Hair chopped around the ears, face dirty with grime. I can't tell if it's a boy or a girl; they are at that young age where unless they're wearing pink or blue, it's hard to tell.
I walk slowly towards the child, compelled. Nerves jump and twitch beneath my skin, warning me of a danger I ignore. My blood is filled with ice.
Is it another trick, another costume? No. This is definitely a child. But not like any child I've ever seen.
And then it runs to me. Grabs my arms. Its touch burns into my skin. It shrieks up close and rancid breath stings my eyes.
Where there once was a face, there is now a screaming hole.
CHAPTER 14
I STAGGERED OUT of the exit, disoriented. Something had just happened, something I should remember. But my thoughts were on lock down. For a moment, I couldn't even remember where I was, or how long the span of time had been that I'd suddenly lost.
"Thanks for joining us," Alex said smugly, stubbing out his cigarette on the stone wall.
"Fire hazard," Theo muttered, rolling her eyes. She was busy fixing her bun, bobby pins in her teeth.
"Are you okay?' Henry asked, touching my arm. He pulled his fingers away and rubbed them together. He showed them to me; the pads were covered with soot. Oval-shaped ash marks stood out on the pale skin of my forearms. I rubbed them away—old houses could be so dusty.
"Any sign of Ambrose?" I asked groggily. All four of them shook their heads in unison. I turned to Theo. "Do you want to go home?"
"No!" she declared, shaking her head fervently. "I'm all right now. I just don't like it when things jump out at me. But I'll be fine for going back inside by ourselves. Unless Alex jumps at me."
"You wish," Alex said.
The way Theo clutched her bag like a stuffed animal to her chest didn't convince me. But she looked better, the color having had returned to her face. I didn't feel as amped up as I had earlier, which I knew had something to do with whatever I had forgotten.