Looking down, Brent couldn’t quite wrap his head around what he was looking at. His brain bounced quickly through a series of questions - why had he suddenly slammed into the wall? Why was a wooden handle protruding from his chest? What was the red beginning to well up around it? Who was standing so close to him? Where had they come from?
And why did everything hurt?
As his vision began to blur, Brent’s knees buckled and he slid down the rough wooden wall against his back. The last thing he saw was a masked figure standing above him, holding up their index finger to their frozen, fake smile in the universal gesture for silence before they turned and stalked away, their black garments sailing noiselessly down the cobweb lined corridor…
–—
A scream rang out, adding another layer of chill to the frosty evening. The gusty wind created visible eddies across the unkempt field, causing yellow and orange leaves to dance around and crunched loudly underfoot. Playing hide-and-seek with the clouds, the moon cast an eerie glow on the buildings and pathways in the meadow.
“This was a bad idea,” Nicole whispered as she moved closer to Beth.
“It’s fine. We’re fine. It’s fine,” Beth responded as she linked arms with Nicole.
Suddenly a chainsaw revved in the distance.
Nicole jumped and turned toward the sound, swinging Beth around with her.
“Oh my gosh, what the hell was that?”
Walt smiled as he shook his head. “Would you two settle down? You know none of this is real, right? We aren’t actually in a haunted forest? Pretty sure they’d charge more than $20 if it was.”
“Hey, we’re only here because you weirdos wanted to visit a haunted house. This isn’t our thing, so cut us some slack,” Nicole replied, mildly annoyed. “People actually getting murdered at these things doesn’t really help the creepy factor.”
“Oooor does it?” Walt said, smiling maniacally. “Sounds extra creepy to me! Besides, that happened last year and three states away. You think a serial killer is going to show up in nowhere Nebraska to kill little ol’ you?”
“It was two states away and who expects a serial killer to get them? I’m just as random as the next guy, thank you very much.”
Walt rolled his eyes.
“Well, that’s what Phil and I are here for, to be your brawny protection,” he said as he grabbed Nicole around the waist, spinning her until she was screaming with laughter.
“Put me down, you imbecile. What will everyone think?”
Everyone else constituted a line of 20 people, most of whom were rolling their eyes at their antics. Waiting to enter the haunted house was almost as annoying as what they were anticipating inside, though a different kind of gross and irritating.
Beth wrapped her cloak more tightly around her as the wind kicked up again. Whoever thought it would be fun to come in costume should be stabbed, she thought. The red cape that accompanied her Red Riding Hood outfit was woefully insufficient for how cold it was. While dreading the jump scares and dimly lit interior of the haunted house, she wished the line would move more quickly so she could be indoors.
“The stupid things we do for our boyfriends,” she thought as she threw an annoyed glance at Phil, who was wearing a much warmer wolf suit. He laughed as he caught the look and, bounding over, wrapped her in his fur-clad arms.
“At least you’re warmer than Nicole,” he whispered, leaning his head close to hers. “Who the fuck thought Tinker Bell and Captain Hook was a good idea?”
“Your idiot friend, that’s who,” Beth replied, leaning into the warmth of the wolf blanket holding her from behind. “Pretty sure he was drawn to that stupid hat and then weedled Nicole into wearing the most scantily clad outfit to go with it.”
“Well, walking around with Wendy in a long nightgown just doesn’t have the same appeal,” Walt chuckled, as he landed beside them, Tinkerbell caught up in his arms.
“Well, next year we’re going as something warmer. Maybe a king and queen in long, fur-lined robes,” said Nicole, shivering. “Or as Mama and Papa Bear in full bear suits. I can steal my folk’s Labrador to play Goldie Locks.”
They continued to discuss what costumes would provide better insulation as the line slowly crept forward. Finally they reached the gate leading to the “Forest of Terror,” a trail through rolling hills and a corn maze which led to the main attraction - the massive, two story haunted house. The abandoned farmhouse and surrounding property had been turned into a Halloween destination a few years back, each room decked out in a different theme - from a gory kitchen to the mad scientist’s laboratory, with dilapidated hallways filled with fake (and some real) cobwebs and random flotsam strewn along the way.
“Before entering the Field of Terror,” droned the unenthusiastic keeper of the gate for the 40th time that night, “be sure to secure all belongings. Due to the darkness along the path, it is unlikely that we will be able to find lost items like wallets or keys. Do not touch the actors. They will not touch you. The trail is uneven, so watch your step and good luck,” he finished as he swung the creaky gate closed behind them.
The girls sandwiched themself between the boys, with Walt in the lead. Well placed speakers with motion detectors blared spooky music or loud pops and crackling as they wound their way toward the corn maze. A couple grisly teenagers lept from behind hay bales or around trees, making all four of them jump and then scurry off amid nervous laughter.
As they approached the corn maze, two figures lay on their backs on the trodden grass near the entrance. Convinced they were going to pop up at the last second, the girls squealed and fled into the maze, the boys trailing behind them.
“I’ll admit, I’m a little disappointed,” Walt grumbled. “I would have bet money they were all set to throw themselves at us as we walked up.”
“Yeah, that was weird,” said Phil, looking over his shoulder as the entrance disappeared as they rounded the first corner. They quickened their pace when they heard the girls cry out, nearly running into a figure shrouded in black and wearing a Ghostface mask. The boys moved around it, advancing to join Beth and Nicole, guffawing and poking at the girls playfully as they reached them.
“Sorry, it surprised us,” Beth tittered, taking another step down the path. “It came out of nowhere.”
The mask tipped slowly, appearing to inspect the boys.
“Never fear, the men are now here!” said Phil heartily, once again wrapping Beth in his wolf arms.
“Bravo, sir. You’re the first officially scary thing we’ve come across,” Walt directed at Ghostface, tripping his plumed hat.
The four turned and continued down the path. When Beth cast a quick glance back, the figure was nowhere to be seen.
Around the halfway mark they ran across a small cart, set up to look like a gypsy caravan. Nothing of import happened, other than Walt stepping on a discarded tambourine in the middle of the path. The loud rattling metallic sound made them all jump about three feet in the air, though it was a bit anticlimactic when nothing else happened.
The rest of the maze was similarly uneventful, just twisting a path between tall corn stalks. The lack of frights and jump scares allowed the girls to carry on a normal conversation, their evening turning into more of a hike than an adventure. The boys grouched about the lack of action and how it wasn’t worth the money…until they broke the cover of the corn stalks and were suddenly in the shadow of the haunted house. The clouds parted as if on cue, revealing the most foreboding building they’d ever seen.
The house towered above them, leering over the field they’d just exited. The windows on the second floor were unusually tall, giving the appearance that the house was peering down at them. Where there was siding, it looked like it should have been painted or replaced about 40 years ago. The wide front porch cast a shadow over the front door, where a brightly colored Harlequin stood out in the gloom, bobbing about in anticipation of their approach.
“Welcome, welcome, children,” she crowed as they walked up the steps. “Welcome to the home of Doctor Phineas Hickenbottom, the world renowned scientist and necromancer. If he couldn’t find a cure for his terminal patients, he would call them back from the dead! You will likely encounter several of them as you travel through his home, as their spirits were bound to the house once he called them back. It’s said that all who die in this cursed place are forever compelled to remain within its walls, so enter at your own peril!” She ended her speech with a proper cackle as she pushed open the front door. “Your peeeeeril,” she whispered overdramatically as they filed passed, letting the door slam with a crash behind them.
“Now this is more like it,” Phil said, appreciating the Harlequin's performance and the decrepit room they’d just entered. It looked like a Victoria era sitting room, if it had been hit by the Depression and a tornado. A young woman dressed in a billowy white nightgown and nightcap sat in the corner, pretending to play with a baby doll. She looked up, smiled too widely and shuffled toward them like an awkward a toddler.
“Fwends! I so want fwends! I’m Penny and this is my Papa’s house. His work keeps him sooo busy and all his fwends are end up flying around the the room and crying so loudly at night. They make me sad, flying around up to the attic. You won’t make me sad, will you? Come play! Come play!” she finished in a shout as she scampered around the room. “You can stay and play with me or keep going to meet Papa and his fwends,” she said, pointing toward a half open door.
“Guess we’ve gotta go meet Papa,” said Walt, gently herding the other three toward the door.
Penny huffed loudly and tottered back to her doll in the corner. “Watch out for Papa’s fwends. You won’t see them coming. By the time you do, it’ll already be too late. You’ll wish you’d stayed with Penny. You’ll be sorry. Sooo sorry…”
Her singsong “sooo sorry” followed them into the hallway, cut off once the door closed. Broken windows lined one side, while several doors stood ajar along the other. Phil pushed tentatively against the first, trying to enter the room, but it seemed to be secured from the other side. As they moved on toward the second door, Beth peered through the first doorway, trying to see inside. As she looked down, what appeared to be a hand could be seen on the ground, just inside the door.
“Psst, guys!” she whispered loudly. “I think there’s something in here after all.” As they turned back toward her, she pushed a little harder on the door, getting it to scuff back a couple inches. As it widened, a thick dark stain became noticeable on the unfinished wood of the threshold. Beth took a half step into the room and then hopped back, covering her nose.
“Oh, that’s awful. I know they pride themselves with being authentically creepy, but it legit smells like death in there,” she said, heaving slightling.
Nicole gingerly touched the dark goo in the doorway with her green boot, a thin trail of syrupy liquid dripping from it as she pulled the boot away. “And unnecessarily gross,” she said, shuttering as she wiped it off on the threadbare carpet that ran along the hallway.
“Did you see this, Walt? Walt?” she called down the hallway, when he didn’t respond. “Where are you?”
“Must have moved on without us,” Phil said, poking his head into the room after the girls vacated the doorway. “Ooof, that’s rank. ‘Bout time things got ghoulish. It’s been a little underwhelming up till now.”
The next room was decked out as a windowless library and thankfully didn’t smell rancid. The trio wandered about, inspecting what the space had to offer. While devoid of humans, it was filled with creepy items like open books with bloody hand prints, barely legible notes scribbled in outlines of ghosts on pieces of paper strewn about the room, jars with small animals suspended in a glowing liquid interspersed throughout the bookcases and what appeared to be a spell in Latin on a pedestal set up before an unlit fireplace.
“Oh heck no,” said Beth, as she ran across the spell. “If I learned anything from horror movies, you should never read anything written in Latin.”
Phil laughed, picked up the spell and squinted, trying to read the words in the dim light.
Beth snatched it away from him. “No you don’t,” she said seriously. “I know this is all fake scary, but I draw a line at Latin.”
“Yes, dear,” Phil aquiested, squeezing her shoulder as he headed for the next room.
Next they found a dining room, with a large table in the middle of the room. Where there should be windows, heavy velvet, moth eaten drapes hung from the ceiling and bunched up on the floor. There were ten chairs around the table, each with a multi-plate setting on a shabby place mat. In the dim moonlight filtering through the doorway and twinking from the flameless tea candles strewn along the table, they could see three of the seats on the far side of the room were occupied, the head of the table and the two on either side.
“Creeeeepy,” breathed Beth, staying near the doorway.
“Are you Papa?” asked Phil, moving into the room. He picked up one of the little candles and walked up to the first occupied chair. The person seated there was wearing a Victorian gentleman’s costume, complete with top hat and waistcoat. His hands hung loosely in his lap, his eyes were closed and his chin rested on his chest. As Phil leaned closer, he illuminated a dark red stain cascading down the waistcoat. He poked the man’s shoulder, causing him to move slightly, but not generating a response.
Moving on to the seat at the head of the table, Phil shook that occupant’s shoulder with a little more gusto, causing them to slip off the chair and slump onto the ground, face to the floor.
“Sorry, man,” Phil said, leaning down and grasping the man’s shoulder as he turned him over. “I know they said we’re not supposed to touch the actors but…” He leaned forward, bringing the candle closer to the body on the ground. He gasped sharply as he realized it was Walt, his eye rolled back in his head with an oozing red line across his throat, blood seeping from where it had recently been cut.
Phil jumped back, knocking over the chair. The girls rushed over, asking what was wrong. Phil stood frozen, looking down at the body. Natalie took the candle from his hand and, bending down, screamed as she saw Walt’s face in the light. She knelt down beside him, crying for him to get up. Beth grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.
“We’ve got to get help. We’ve gotta get out of here,” she said, pulling them both toward the door.
“We can’t just leave him here,” Natalie sobbed.
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do for him,” Beth said, as they moved quickly into the hallway. She hurried back the way they came in and finding there was no doorknob on this side, started banging on the door.
“Penny?! Girl playing Penny!! Help! Open the door! Someone’s been hurt! Please open the door! Open the door!” she cried, banging harder and harder with each word.
The door flew open and the figure in the Ghostface mask stood alarmingly close, a large knife dripping with fresh blood in their hand. Beth got a brief glimpse of the other room and saw a red stained pile of white muslin piled in the corner. Before she could react, the figure plunged the knife into her chest and rushed forward, knocking her into the other two who were close behind. Natalie and Phil tripped over each other and fell, pinned to the ground by both Beth and the masked figure.
Beth violently coughed up blood as the figure scrambled to their feet. They tossed her casually to the side, paying her no further mind as they sunk the knife into Phil, piercing his wolf costume with multiple stab wounds.
Natalie managed to pull herself out from under Phil even as the blows kept falling, crawling away from the terrifying and gruesome scene as quickly as she could. She cried out as she felt a hand roughly grab the fairy wings attached to her costume. She turned over, flinging her hands up to protect her head and face. The blood drenched horror above simply stepped over her and began dragging her by the wings down the hall as she fought to escape. As they reached the dining room, they flung her across the threshold and followed menacingly into the room, closing the door silently behind them…
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