You guys, this is not scary okay. It's just a story I wrote to entertain at my friend's Halloween party and I never intended to put it up here, but lots of people persisted and now it's up. Also, I feel like I should be contributing to the Halloween spirit. I can't write scary fiction whatsoever.
Allow me to clarify again; this is not scary. I did not put a lot of effort into it and I'm probably going to forget about it by next week, so don't take it too seriously! It's just a bit of fun. Happy Halloween, friends!
"I am not going in there." Jess asserts, folding her arms as the two stand outside of the Victorian-style mansion in front of them.
"What do you mean? You've worked in one of these before, what's the big deal?"
She purses her lips, tilting her head slightly. "That was different, Nick. In that one I knew what was going on. I knew what would be jumping out of where and making which noises at which times. And I knew at least four of the other zombies. I don't know any of the zombies in there."
"There might not even be any zombies." He persuades. "And if anything jumps out at us you can rely on me to sock it to 'em hard."
"Please don't remind me. I still have to put extra concealer on the area you decided to use as a punching bag."
He shrugs. "I did it out of love."
"Yeah, well love isn't exactly deemed as currency in Sephora."
"Come on Jess. Last year you were practically forcing me to go to haunted houses." He persists, his voice whiny.
She rolls her eyes at glances up at the tall, gothic structure, taking note of the eroded stone walls and the chipped paint on the window frames, considering the situation.
This is how her night's about to end. With about ten minutes filled with generous amounts of unnecessary scares in the form of bad clown masks and blood-stained school uniforms and possibly running chainsaws that she's almost certain the people operating them have no experience with. It had all been going fine up until now. Nick had decided to seize the opportunity to venture off into the colossal word of the annual Los Angeles Halloween Fair, conveniently located in what has been deemed the one area in L.A renowned for paranormal activity. Or so that late night documentary on Dateline had reported.
It hadn't taken more than two seconds for Jess to eagerly accept his invitation to join him in the festivities. She'd even suggested that they go in costumes to up the atmosphere, to which he'd 'reluctantly' declined.
They'd left at six, just as it began to get dark out, and spent most of the time trying to ditch Winston and Schmidt, not willing to put up with the two's bickering all evening. They didn't have any obligation to be around them anyway, the two had pretty much invited themselves and tagged along without notice. It was only a matter of time before they ended up leaving them there to make their own way home.
Hey, they know how to call for cabs.
The rest of the night consisted of playing rigged carnival games resulting in the crushing devastation of missing out on a miniature crank-powered TV, or oversized stuffed toy every time. And after those times, Jess had had to calm Nick down somewhat over his defeat to a magnetic duck and fishing rod.
"Nick, it's fine, I don't need any more giant teddy bears. I'm one off from being regarded as a clinical toy-hoarder."
"This isn't about getting a teddy bear, Jess." He'd responded through gritted teeth. "This is about honour."
"It's just a game, you don't need to-."
"Honour!"
And then, once the initial rage had worn off, they'd gone to seek out candy apples from one of the less sketchy looking kiosks.
And those kiosks just so happened to be beside a haunted house. The haunted house.
Sure, from a distance it looks pretty appealing. Everyone who's anyone finds some sort of solace in old, abandoned buildings with pointy roofs and fancy-looking bay windows. Until the floorboards creak or something and then they don't want to even speak of the place ever again. They're supposed to be admired from afar, not feared from the inside. Jesus, people, logic!
Jess groans and slumps, looking Nick straight in the eyes and puckering out her lower lip in retaliation.
"But it looks so eerie, Nick. I'm gonna have night terrors for weeks."
"And I'll be there to bring you tea and calm you down." He says comfortingly with a soft smile. He isn't going to let up on this.
"What if there are clowns." She suggests.
"Then we sprint it outta there and hide under the covers when we sleep tonight so the clowns don't find us."
"There's no arguing with you, is there?" She sighs, defeated.
"Nope."
He stretches out his arm, gesturing for her to take his hand. Her arguments hindered, she reluctantly obliges and he gently pulls her in beside him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and planting a soft kiss on her temple.
"It'll be fine. If you get scared you have permission to break my fingers. So long as you're willing to pay my medical bills."
She coughs out a nervous laugh, resting her head on his shoulder. It can only get worse from here.
They join the queue of other seemingly relaxed 'victims', as Jess refers to them as. There's a mixture of tired adults with young children pulling at their arms and whinging to be picked up, teenagers taking selfies with absurd facial expressions, giggling about how fun this is all going to be, and other couples, blissfully unaware of the terrors about to be unleashed unto them as they get lost in each other's embraces.
Jess on the other hand is acting like what only can be described as a frightened kitten. She can handle the physical aspects of the whole experience. All of that typical banging and screaming sound effects is something she's become accustomed to thanks to working in a classroom most of the time. The blood stains on the walls are so habitual among anyone in the modern world that she probably won't even notice them. All of that is fine. It's just those damn pop-ups.
If there's one thing she's great at doing, it is scaring people by jumping out from behind doors and then laughing in their faces. It's a great adrenaline rush for both her and her victim. And anyway, she can always win back their trust with the sentiment of raspberry and white chocolate muffins.
However, when she's put in the place of the victim, it ain't gonna go down so well for anyone. Time and again she's almost passed out with the sharp breath she's prone to taking rather than screaming or any of the conventional stuff one typically reacts with when frightened. So if this just so happens to be the night that those lungs of steel give way on her, Nick's gonna have to seriously improvise with his skills from those two day first aid classes he took last year.
"I'm gonna kill you for this." She mutters, huddling closer to him. "I am seriously gonna take one of the steak knives from the kitchen drawers and I am gonna drive it through your liver so you'll never be able to drink again."
He frowns. "Have you been looking through my stories again Jess?"
She smiles up at him and pats his nose with the tip of her finger. "You need to concentrate on details, Miller."
He chuckles and bats her hand away. "What-ever. You'll forget all about those details once we get in."
"I'm gonna kill you."
"Did you really need to reiterate that?"
"I'm gonna kill you."
With only a mere four minutes to contemplate whether spontaneously taking off and running for the hills is a good idea, they're up to the front of the line. They'd begun to move a few moments back, but thankfully for Jess, only eight groups are permitted in at one time. That sense of relief doesn't last long when that gosh darned red rope is unhooked and the bouncer-type dude dressed in a black duffel coat and bad face paint, assumed to be Nosferatu, ushers her, Nick and the six others behind them into the dimly lit entrance. It's an extravagant setting, with masonic tiled floors and one wide, wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. From there, only one door is visible at the top. The rest seems to be curtained off. It's all very much staged, but damn does it look and feel like a genuine mansion.
It is, however, missing one key element. The feel of paranormal presence.
Once inside, Nick can already feel Jess' grip tighten on his hand and she shuffles slightly closer to him.
They're immediately faced with those god forsaken shrieks taken from thirties horror films and torn wallpaper.
"This is familiar." Nick mumbles, looking around as they proceed through the doorway. "Ah yes, law school."
"What?" Jess asks, her voice quavering slightly.
"The shrieks, the terrible maintenance. It reminds me of law school."
She rolls her eyes. His futile attempts at getting her to find humour in the situation are mediocre at best. Her eyes dart around the room in anticipation of some guy in a Silence of the Lambs type mask coming out at her face-first with a weapon capable of dismembering her lifeless body in seconds by the time she gets out of there.
So far, no clowns or zombies have presented themselves. Granted, they are only about thirty seconds into the place. There's still time.
Maybe Nick will get some story ideas from this place. You know, one's that aren't set in abandoned cemeteries as he's been inclined to write recently. Aka. The most obvious place for zombies to dwell in.
The first room they enter into is pretty compact, and is decorated with red wallpaper, a high ceiling with a myriad of cracks and exposed copper pipes and a chandelier with only one light flickering away in the centre. The end of the room is taken up by a large mantelpiece, littered with black and white photographs of the faded portraits of large families with mundane facial expressions. In the corner of the room, there's a baby grand piano missing three keys, and a candelabra atop the base. All of the curtains are drawn, shutting out any natural light source. It pretty much fills in all the stereotypes of a generic haunted house. Nonetheless, Jess is expecting a hell of a lot more to come of the place rather than faint thunderous noises and a soundtrack of cackling on repeat in the background.
"This is impressive." Nick starts, studying the setting. "How is this place a haunted house? It looks like a great place to live. Plenty of space, sturdy infrastructure…" He trails off.
Jess looks at him sideways, making a face at his suggestion. "Are you gonna take out a lease on it afterwards or something?"
"I gotta be honest, I'm thinking about it." He continues. "How are you holding up?"
She shrugs. "It's not that bad. That doesn't mean I'm ready for any kind of psychopaths jumping out at me though."
"You live with Winston, do you not?"
"Yeah, but he's a bearable psychopath. The ones in straightjackets are the ones I'm talking about. Like with the crazy long nails and stuff."
As they move through the room, there's a sudden flash, drawing a yelp from Jess as she latches to Nick's arm at lightning speed.
"Holy crap." She breathes, looking up towards the ceiling. "That was uncalled for."
Though startled himself, Nick can only smile at her vulnerability and claps her on the shoulder.
They eventually begin to approach the next door, guided by arrows shaped out by crime scene tape across the floor, the piano begins to play mysteriously without the use of a pianist, god forbid.
"That piano needs tuning." Jess states matter-of-factly, still overcoming her initial shock. "That's probably been the most terrifying thing so far."
"You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." Nick teases.
She's somewhat embarrassed. The only other people who'd screamed back there had been a very young child, who then found himself laughing it off seconds after. Jess, however, had taken that same time trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.
They shuffle into the next room: a dining hall. It's much bigger and much more furnished.
All the more things for terrifying paraphernalia to jump out from behind.
The centrepiece is a long, stretch dining table, carved from worn mahogany. It is spread with a red tablecloth, yet another candelabra in the middle and chipped china plates lining the length of it. There's a suspicious looking wardrobe near the entrance to the next room.
"Why is there a wardrobe in a dining room?" Jess asks as though it's the most absurd thing in the world.
Nick shakes his head. "Maybe it was a place to store the victims who asked where the meat came from."
"If you have to ask where your meat came from then it's not worth even bringing up." She responds, deadpan. Nothing very exciting about it, besides those irking creaking noises supposedly coming from the floorboards above them.
The group begins to move out, and Jess keeps a watchful eye on the wardrobe, keeping her cheek resting against Nick's shoulder as she does so in order to bury the rest of her face in the safety of his shirt when something does jump out at her.
They pass by it with no surprises, much to Jess' relief. That is, until, the next room they find themselves in is completely baron. The walls have the coat of only half a paint job, and not a very good one to say the least. The floor is bare stone, and at the far end there is a row of shackles, each unlocked, leaving the group to wonder where the hell the people once locked into them are now.
The silence in the room becomes apparent to her shortly after when for once, she can hear herself think without the added sound effects to disrupt her.
Let the over the top, childish thoughts begin, Jessica.
"Something's gonna happen. I can sense it." Nick nods, pretty sure of himself.
"Last I remember, you were creeping around these things with your hands over your head and punching innocent role-players."
"I've grown up since then." He declares proudly. "Can't say the same for yo-AH!"
He's interrupted by Jess' worst nightmare: a dude with a white mask and, to everyone's sheer terror, a fully powered, turbo-speed chainsaw to replace the lack of sound in the room. It's an inarguably believable costume. The red cuff marks from the shackles, damn good special effects makeup displayed on the guy's neck. Whoever's in charge of makeup should probably be working in Hollywood.
That's the last thing on anyone's mind at the moment, though.
It's so sudden that Jess' high pitched shriek goes completely over his head. He immediately pulls her closer to him and grabs a hold of her forearm. They run frantically through the door to the next room, both laughing and trembling at the same time.
"I'm gonna kill you!" She shouts for about the tenth time. "I'm gonna kill you so much!"
"Oh come on, that was pretty funny."
"I'm going. To. Kill. You."
The rest of the adventure within the haunted walls of the house is pretty stereotypical, but nonetheless, manages to get a good few frights out of Jess. All of which Nick finds hilarious.
In one of the rooms, some kind of demon type thing slowly stalks after Jess, drawing a shriek from her when it taps her shoulder and darts out from in front of her and back into the darkness.
That's the thing with all of these rooms. They're lit in such a way that it just looks like one giant hallway with some furniture and poorly maintained décor.
Schmidt's nightmare.
The novelty of it eventually wears off.
They go through room after room, each with very similar scares that Jess is slowly adapting to and becoming less paranoid about. They even hang back a bit to let the other people continue along so they can giggle about it together.
"That's it?" Jess shakes her head as the exit sign comes into view. "That was disappointing."
"I don't know, the first part was pretty entertaining. Though I have heard you scream a lot louder."
She scrunches up her face. "What are you implying?"
Nick smiles to himself and places his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out ahead of him.
"It might not have been scary for long but it was really pretty once you got to look around and not worry about, you know, having your head sawn It might not have been scary for long but it was really pretty once you got to look around and not worry about, you know, having your head sawn off."
Nick nods. "Are you considering taking out a lease on it?"
"Hell no." Jess scoffs. "You'd never get the fake blood off the walls. It'd just take from the whole atmosphere."
Coming out of the house, they are hit by a waft of cold October air, bitterly cold and signalling the impending fall of Winter. Jess buttons up the top button on her navy pea-coat and huddles close to Nick with the hopes of sharing some of his body heat.
They walk back down the pathway from the house, Nick interlacing his fingers with hers and rocking their hands gently back and forth.
"Next year." She starts, clicking her tongue. "You're taking me to a real haunted house. Not one of those budget ones." She states, pointing back in the direction of the house. "I honestly expected to be shuddering and wanting to bathe in holy water afterwards."
"And you're upset that you don't?" He asks, grinning down at her.
"I don't know. I feel like I wasted a ton of energy being so frightened of it before and I really hate wasting my feelings."
Nick shakes his head. "I don't understand you sometimes. I guess we better find the guys before they go sending out a search party looking for us."
"I wonder if it's illegal to threaten your roommates with a chainsaw. It would be a good way of keeping Schmidt out of our way." She ponders to herself.
Nick widens his eyes. "I'm never taking you to one of those ever again. And don't you dare go buying a chainsaw."
Jess smiles deviously. "No promises, Nicholas."