Later. Later he will fuck me.
With one last kiss and a warning glance to stay calm, he walks away. Leaving me alone and breathless, but considerably calmer than before.
I smile, my heart filling with love and gratitude for my men. They know me better than I know myself most days.
I hear the front door open. My eyes focus and my spine snaps straight. Immediately, I make my way over to the peephole, pressing the entirety of my body against the wall.
A group of ten people stumble in, quickly pushing and shoving as they run to get away from the monsters. I breathe in deep but am disappointed when I don’t detect any rot among the group of friends.
I slump, pressing my forehead against the wooden wall, ignoring flakes of sharp wood pricking against my skin. But I listen to Mortis, and stay calm.
Only a minute goes by when I hear the door open again. I lift my head slowly, confused by why another group would be entering the house.
We’re at max capacity. The group hasn’t even made it halfway yet. No one should be coming into this house yet.
As soon as the breeze wafts in from the open door, I get a whiff of something dreadful. Narrowing my eyes, I inhale deeply. Rot filters through my senses. A slow smile begins to form on my face and I feel any lingering frustration bleed out of me, replaced by excitement.
Walking into the house is a single guy, his head swiveling left and right as if he’s searching for something. Or someone.
This naughty boy isn’t supposed to be in this house. Excitement drums in my pulse.
Could it be Gary? It has to be. Why else would some guy sneak into a haunted house if he didn’t have motive?
I cringe when I get a good look at the guy. God, he’s really ugly—inside and out. A mop of greasy brown hair that’s overgrown and curling past his bushy brows and ears. A dirty, threadbare hoodie hangs from his lanky body. I bet if I were to peek beneath the sleeves covering his arms, I’d find track marks and picked over scabs.
He’s high. His pupils are dilated and shifty. Not from fear, but from whatever drug is coursing through his bloodstream. His cheeks have been hollowed out from the foreign substances eating away at this body from the inside out.
I’ve no idea what the hell Jennifer sees in this guy. He’s so gross. And Jennifer is beautiful. With pretty, pin straight blonde hair, sky blue eyes and a radiating smile. How did someone like her end up with someone like him?
She must be fooled by the bad boy persona. Maybe she has a sad homelife, restricted from doing things that make her happy, so she’s trying to find life and a thrill in someone dangerous. If only it means she feels a little less dead inside.
My flower is beginning to wilt, and just like Mommy, she will be tainted with tar if she stays with her vile boyfriend.
Gary’s image flickers. I’m no longer staring at a greasy lowlife, but Daddy. Standing before me, looking straight into my eyes as if he can see me through the wall. A sinister smile growing on his portly face until all I can see, feel and hear is evil.
I gasp, jerking away as familiar terror claws through my bones. Every time Daddy walked into the same room as me, the oxygen was sucked out and replaced with fear. I was the only one that ever stood up to Daddy, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared of him. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t fear for my life on a constant basis.
The image flickers, and Gary is before me again.
I let loose a harsh breath, shaking my hands out to calm the sharp nerves spearing through my body. I breathe in deeply, in through my nose and out through my mouth to calm the anxiety.
Breathe, Sibby. Daddy is dead. He’s not here anymore.
This is why I’m here. This is my purpose. To protect my garden of flowers from wilting because of people like Gary and Daddy.
Gary pulls a gray beanie out of his hoodie pocket and pulls it over his head down low until his hair curls around the edges. His eyes travel across the foye
r, noting the battery-operated woman giving birth to a demon on the couch—fake blood spurting from her orifices.
When he starts walking through the living room, the doll with the kitchen knife pops out from around the corner, cocking her head at Gary eerily and walking towards him.
“Stay the fuck back, you creepy bitch,” Gary spits, venom in his voice. The girl stills, and for just a second, she breaks character as shock and fury flash across her eyes.
It’s not very often we get aggressive guests. Afterall, the whole point of them being here is for them to chase after you and scare you.
The doll recovers quickly, a sinister smile building on her face as she continues her perusal. She has a job to do, and she’s going to fucking do it. Don’t enter the den of wolves and ask not to be bitten.
Gary scoffs. “Tell me which room Jennifer is in,” he demands sharply. The doll ignores him, distracting him while another monster creeps up from behind him. A large man, nearly almost as big as Cronus, stands behind Gary.