A shriek erupted behind me, the scream so potent in my ear the air around me turned white. It didn't originate from the ghouls, goblins, and witches darting around us but the man with fingers burrowing into my shoulders. His hands trembled, shaking my much shorter stature in the process as we turned a corner and came face to face with a werewolf.
I braced myself for another scream, but he seemed to have moved beyond that to the point of silent terror. A black eye hidden below the pile of fur rolled up to us, the jaws snapping for my fingers which I waved politely and moved us on. The werewolf seemed upset that I didn't give much more of a reaction while I guided us into the next chamber.
Which was when he went off again, twice as loud as a foghorn.
"Shit, Alistair," I shouted, my hands flying up to my ears to protect them. White fog blanketed the tight room of plywood up to my waist. As I spun to face him, the oppressive fog twirled in a circle like I had an invisible skirt on.
I expected to find the six foot three blonde goof to wear a big fat smile, maybe chuckle at how he kept nearly getting me to jump. But those usually melting brown eyes were white, the no-longer smiling lips were tugged up into a rictus of terror. He was really scared.
A laugh rolled in my throat at the idea and I pointed towards the latest spooky creature before us. "What's the problem? That's not scary."
"It's a blighted skeleton!" he shrieked, prodding at a pair of animated bones sitting at a table playing cards.
"It's plastic," I sighed. From behind I heard the next group racing to catch up with us; a mob of that pre-teen age who were shrieking almost as much as the grown man I came with. "Come on," I tipped my head onward into the room of tattered spiderwebs.
The cheap stuff most people wad up in their bushes stretched clear across the room. Black light gave it a haunting glow, the entire room radiating as if it were the site of some alien crash. Once again the fingers dug into my shoulder, practically pinching blood flow off as I trekked further on.
With a sigh in my voice, I said, "We didn't have to come here. I mean, if you're really scared."
"I'm not," he cried, his voice cracking as his head whipped back and forth like a vengeful metronome. On the third measure Alistair's eyes landed on me and he gulped, "Okay, maybe a little."
"Why'd you even suggest we come here if you hate this?" I asked while bending over to lift up some fallen webbing and walk under. It slipped from my fingers and the taut band bounded into Alistair's unbendable chest. His manic stares narrowed down at the string of cheap nylon as if he expected another witch or clown to pop out.
"Because…" he groaned, hauling the nylon over his tall head so he could duck under with me into the pitch black walkway, "you like 'em."
Really? I'd never had any guy care enough to want to do what I wanted, especially if it freaked him out to the point of shrieking. A blush burned up my cheeks even as I had to balance on the sliding floor below us. This time, the hands that'd been gripping for dear life to my shoulders kept me on my feet. Alistair's longer stride allowed him to straddle both tipping boards with ease.
"Plus, ya know, they say that getting the chills, and the shakes, and the screaming until she leaps in your lap is a great way to get a girl to want to…to um…"
I spun in place, eyeing him up even with only a pinprick of starry light to guide us. "Seriously? That's why?"
His eyes wouldn't meet mine, only darted around the place and refused to stop. "Something about adrenaline, hearts pumping, sweat beading up in all those…places. Um…"
With a scoff, I turned on my heel. "Nice try, but it's not gonna happen. I don't get scared."
The midnight darkness broke to a yellow strobe pulsing against my eyes. I squinted at the assault, my fingers running along the wall as I turned a corner. Twisting over my shoulder, I spoke to Alistair, "Besides I…"
A flash of metal, the smell of gasoline burning, and the grind of a gunning engine shattered the silence. From behind Alistair's shoulders, as if emerging from the abyss, came a man with no face and in his hands the roaring chainsaw primed and squealing to splinter flesh and bone. My eyes blanked, a scream building in my lungs as I twisted away from the threat and ran. Feet pounded into the sawdust, kicking up mulch in my wake as the chainsaw maniac pursued us both.
Please! No! I skidded into the turn, praying to reach the exit sign. A drum kit bounded about in my veins, my heart squeezing into a vice as I struggled for the promise of a door. Incoherent babble broke from between my lips, my head whipping around to try and see anything beyond the pressing darkness. A hot roar of wind splattered against my cheek and I turned to spy another chainsaw whipping past my face.
The scream I'd had buried in my lungs ripped free, sending the second maniac flinging back in surprise. With my eyes straining against the black press of death, I held my palms out flat and splattered into the door. It must have been enough as cool air, tinged with the promise of open cornfields and freedom erased the stench of gasoline and death.
My feet slowed but didn't stop until my waist bounded into a guard rail. Gulping in the free night's sky, I had to wipe away the tears in my eyes to see the stars.
"Hey," a hand rubbed gentle circles from my shoulder down to my back. "You okay?" Alistair sounded really spooked.
A chuckle rose in my gut at the thought then grew exponentially. The laughter evaporated the fear lodged in my throat into something else. I pivoted to him, my arms happy to envelope around his hay-flecked hoodie. Alistair's concerned eyes crinkled at the edge, his face reacting to my laughter even as he seemed worried he might need to call someone for help with the crazy lady.
Rising on my tiptoes, my hand ruffled through Alistair's scraggly scruff. I tipped his head down, his mouth still flat in confusion, until I crushed my lips to his. Heat boiled through my veins, my heart pounding like a bass drum to send every vibrating rush through all parts of my body. Especially the lower bits.
With a smirk, I whispered into his ear, "I guess it works after all." Alistair smiled wide at that thought. He cupped both hands to my cheeks, cradling my face as he returned for more ravenous kisses. The pre-teen group behind us burst free, giggling and shouting about how they weren't scared at all, and paying no attention to the two near adults making out in the back.
"So," I said. My hands folded with his fingers as I leaned out to take in a view of the rest of the grounds. "Should we hit the second haunted house or…?"
Alistair's hands scooped around my waist. Without any strain, he hefted me off my feet. When I landed on his shoulder, my feet bounding against his stomach, he placed one hand over my ass for balance. I laughed at his exuberance, the man sprinting to reach the parking lot. "Home it is," I shouted as we left the haunted park behind. There was much better amusement awaiting us there.