“Yeah, something about not being able to see the horizon.” He was beaming from ear to ear that his surprise had worked out. “Do you want to take some shots of the sign?”
I stared at him for a second and then nodded. His smile made me smile, too. He seemed even more excited about each place we went to than I was, even though he was the one who had planned it all as a surprise for me. He handed me the phone, but as I took it, I leaned in to steal a kiss. When I drew my mouth back, Jason’s cheeks were red.
“I wonder what I’m going to get when you see our final destination,” he said.
He didn't tell me where we were going the whole trip. I didn’t even think we’d go on a honeymoon, considering how much trouble it was already to cover all the shifts at the gas station for the three days we had for the wedding. (It was a mess. We had to fix up five rooms at the hotel so that our parents, my little brother, and my grandma could visit. Then, hosting them while getting to know them, handling the awkward conversations between my mom and dad, who hadn’t seen each other since their divorce, hiding how weird the proposal was, and taking over one night at the gas station because Gary had an unexpected stomach bug. We made memories for a lifetime, but it was stressful.)
But after our families had left, he was like,‘Now pack your bags. We’re hitting the road.’And he didn’t let me in on whatwas coming, so every stop was a surprise. So far, it has been a complete success. We’ve been to anUltimate Fright Nightat an amusement park (that was more like what our proposal nightshouldhave been like), watched three horror movies in a row at a drive-in cinema (yes, we made out in the backseat), seen an old-fashioned dinosaur park from the sixties (the animatronics were so cool), slept in my car in the middle of the woods (oh the nostalgia) and done an escape room that took place completely in the dark (they only gave us electric candles. It was wild. We beat it with twelve seconds on the clock). Gravity Hill was the only thing he told me about beforehand, but just because he accidentally let it slip out during breakfast.
At every stop, he filmed what we were doing becauseheinsistedIwanted to document it, even though I told him that not everything had to go on my channel.‘If not for them, then let’s document it for us,’he said, and I couldn’t argue with that.
The longer we were on the road, the stranger the things he had in store for us became, and the deeper my love for him grew.
I put the car in reverse, backed up until the Ghost Hill sign was in front of us again, turned on my hazard lights, and jumped out of the car to take some quick shots of the sign and its surroundings—all under Jason’s patient gaze.
From there, it was only a fifteen-minute drive before we reached a secluded two-story house on a hill. The white front blended into the pale blue sky behind it. There was only a single tree in the backyard, and the rest of the hill was just a plain mowed-to-death lawn. Another minivan was parked in front of it, and a woman in an airy black dress that swayed in the breeze stood beside it.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Our bed-and-breakfast for the night.”
The car shook under the gravel path leading to the house. When she spotted us, a creepy smile appeared on her face.Before I could even turn off the engine, she had walked up to us and motioned at me to roll down the window, which I did.
With her long brown hair blowing in the wind, she leaned her pale face in. “You’re the Taft-Burns family?”
I gazed at Jason. “That’s right.”
“Who’s Taft, and who’s Burns?” she asked.
“I’m the one who’sburning,” I replied.
“Then this is for you.” She pulled a clipboard with a contract on it from behind her back and handed it to me. “I need you to sign this waiver. Just so that you can’t sue us if you die. Thetoughguy already signed it online.” She eyed Jason. “Love the eye patch, by the way.”
I glanced at Jason, who nodded in agreement, obviously knowing what this was all about.
“Dying?” I asked him, scanning the text.
“I didn’t call ithorrormoon for nothing,” he replied, pointing to the dotted line.
I took a deep breath, shook my head, and wrote my new last name without reading the text thoroughly. “Just so you know, ma’am…” I handed the clipboard back to her. “…we’ve sworn to hauntanyonewho’s partly responsible for our deaths.”
“What a nice way to stay in touch,” she replied, exchanging the clipboard for a keychain with twenty keys on it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Be it as ghosts or alive and kicking—ifyou survive the night.” She put her index finger to her mouth as a demonically wide grin spread across her face. With the most devilish laugh I had ever heard from a woman, she turned around and walked to her car.
I watched her drive away in my rearview mirror. “Horror-themed bed-and-breakfast? You know me way too well.”
“Happens.” Jason ducked his head to take in the building in front of us. “We have the whole place to ourselves. Supposedly,there’s a big red button in the kitchen if things get too scary and we want to turn off the automation.”
“Are you kidding me?” I frowned.
“When she told me on the phone, I already let her know we would not push it, but she just laughed as evil as right now and only said,‘I’ve heard that before.’”
We got out of the car and walked up a small flight of stairs.
Once we reached the front door, I stared at the keychain in my hand. “How am I supposed to know which one opens the door?”
“I guess that’s part of the fun.” Jason took a step back, pulled out his phone, and pointed it at me. He cleared his throat and gave me a thumbs up, clearly knowing that we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to film everything firsthand.
None of the keys worked.We wandered around the building for ten minutes until we figured out that we had to get inside through the storm shelter. This led us to the basement, which was pitch black, dusty, and, for some reason, full of mannequins. I was sure that one of them would probably move without warning as I led Jason through the darkness. But nothing of the sort happened.