“Fuck off,” she squeals through laughter, her eyes still wide with fright as she continues to fall up the stairs to get away from the monster.
We finally make it to the top, nearly sprawling on the floor as we’re overcome with a mixture of laughter and terror.
The monster leaves us be as we right ourselves and make our way down the hallway, the flickering strobe lights creating a trippy effect. The smoke is heavier up here, making it harder to see.
At the very end of the hallway is a massive mannequin, its skin burnt so severely that it’s bubbled up in boils. An unnaturally wide bloody mouth, and big yellow eyes top off his grotesque features. We veer into the closest room, avoiding that monstrosity.
We enter into what looks like a doll’s bedroom. More pink and white décor, a twin bed filled with deformed, creepy dolls, and a mirror in the corner of the room that I’m almost sure is going to show something standing behind me.
It looks innocent in here, but the strobe lights flash ominously, while the blue, purple, and pink smoke swirls around us like wicked fingers, and the music in the backdrop creates a dangerous vibe.
And then, out crawls a demented looking doll from under the bed, her body twisted oddly as she comes skittering towards us.
Daya’s and my screams pierce the air as we trip over each other to get out of her way. We run towards the other exit door and are led out into another room.
It takes all around ten minutes to get through the rest of the house. My adrenaline sinks lower and lower, leaking down in between my legs as monsters chase after me.
It’s my favorite aphrodisiac, and something I can never assuage until I’m home alone afterwards.
On the way down the stairs leading towards the exit, I hear a faint screech. It sounds like someone yelled out the name “Jackal” but it’s too loud in here to tell.
When we’re out of the house, we breathe in deep, fresh air. The chill of the air is a soothing balm to our lungs. The only downside is it does get incredibly stuffy in the houses.
The next several hours are spent running around to all the rides in between haunted houses. It breaks up the constant adrenaline rush with a different kind of thrill.
I’ll never get tired of the feeling of flying through the air at a breakneck speed. It’s one of the few times where I feel like nothing can get me. Nothing can touch or hurt me.
Nothing can catch me.
It’s one of the cheapest thrills I can get nowadays that doesn’t cost me my morals and sanity.
Chapter 28
The Shadow
F ucking imbeciles, man.
It blows my mind how sick in the head these men are. I arrived here just in time to see Mark eyeing up a doll eating a sandwich while his wife, Claire, sits right next to him and watches him eye-fuck a young girl.
She doesn’t look the least bit jealous but incredibly concerned for the girl dressed up as a broken doll.
It takes all my strength not to charge up to him and smash his head into that wooden bench until nothing remains but brain matter and bone.
But I stay in the shadows, keeping one eye on Mark, and the other on the crowd, looking for my little mouse.
She’s going to be a distraction tonight, and that could cost me. I roll my neck and blow out a breath. Addie running into Mark is a slim possibility but not impossible. If she stays far away from them, then she should be safe to have a fun time.
Mark and his partners came here with the intention of stealing a child or two. Though they’d never do the dirty work themselves. They’re public figures and would never risk being caught.
Notably, none of the men have their kids, which proves they came here with a plan and didn’t want the hindrance. They’ll be here under the guise of spending time with their wives and nothing more.
But I’ll bet my left nut he takes pictures, and sics a lackey on whoever he deems… appetizing.
My goal tonight is to prevent any kidnapping attempts from being successful. I have several men on standby stationed all throughout the fair, keeping an eye on each of Mark's business partners, whoever they target, and any other suspicious activity.
And it looks like Mark may have found his first target.
The broken doll is in a staring contest with Mark, exchanging smiles like an addict and their dealer. She’s not a child by any means, but she’s still young enough to sell into the skin trade.