Page 21 of Carnival
“Let’s go. I’m curious to see if it’s changed over the years.’’
I nod and follow her, grabbing her wrist so we don’t get separated in the crowd. She leads me through the mass of people, squeezing her way in. My hand instinctively grips my pocket, making sure my wallet stays there. We walk for what seems like an hour, but in reality, it’s been ten minutes at most, until we reach the house.
My eyes fall on a couple of police officers, scattered around the premises, looking for anything or anyone that might besuspicious. The line isn’t as long, thankfully, and after waiting for another five minutes, Aria pays for our tickets, and we enter the terror house.
Immediately, a wave of goosebumps runs through me, like a tsunami. My chest tightens, and I subconsciously grip Aria’s hand tighter. She returns the gesture, a silent way of comforting me. Somehow, it works. My heart rate slows down a little, and I find myself able to breathe.
“This place is… the same, yet different,’’ I mumble, coming to a stop in a narrow hallway. Aria stands next to me, nodding and observing.
“Yeah, from what I’ve heard, it’s more like an escape room.’’
I frown. “The entire house?”
She nods again. “It’s a game.’’
“What kind of game?”
“Basically, we’ll be led by an employee to a room, and from there, every person in the group will have to take a different route. The first one to escape wins money; it’s a silly amount, but it’s done for the thrill. Anyway, that’s not the bad part,’’ she pauses, glancing at me sideways. “The thing is… we’ll all be chased around by employees trying to scare us. If you manage to find the answer and leave the room you’re designed to be in and don’t get caught by the employee, you win. If you get caught, you’re disqualified.’’
“Seems simple enough,’’ I nod. “They’re all masked, I’m assuming.’’
“Yeah.’’
Soon enough, the said employee appears, and there are another four people next to Aria and me. The man, lookingto be in his early twenties, repeats everything that Aria had summarized for me, then starts leading us further into the house.
I can’t help but glance around, wondering if I’m the only one constantly thinking about the murders that have taken place here. Why isn’t anyone else bothered by it? In fact, why am I not bothered by it?
The layout of the house is weird, specifically designed for this. We find ourselves in another hallway after walking for ages. There are six other employees with their scary masks on, with two of them being in the corner, shielded from the light.
The main hall we’re in separates into seven different ones, and the man who leads us here leaves, closing the door of one, leaving us with six possible options. Above us, on the wall, is a digital clock, starting the rundown in two minutes.
“It’s about to start.’’ Aria mumbles and discreetly puts a knife in my pocket. “Keep it. I don’t know who is here and what you might encounter. I’d give you the gun, but you’d probably end up killing yourself rather than your attacker.’’
I snort. “Thanks.’’
“Keep your phone on you at all times, and if you need anything, call me. I’ll shoot my way through.’’
“I don’t think that would be necessary,’’ I mumble.
People around us have already taken one of the doors, and Aria walks in the direction of one, stepping in front of it and waiting for the timer to run out. My palms are sweaty, and the feeling of someone staring at me doesn’t leave me.
In fact, I’ve been feeling it since the moment I entered this house, and I’m trying to remain vigilant, aware of mysurroundings. With a deep breath, I glance over my shoulder, freezing momentarily.
One of the men that was hidden in the shadows steps forward, just enough for the poorly lit light to fall on his face. That mask, that disheveled dark hair, and those predatory eyes stare at me, breath hitching in my throat.
James.
Oh God.
The moment the timer buzzes, a loud noise fills my ears, and my feet move on their own accord, running through the door and not stopping once to look behind me. I don’t need to — I can hear his footsteps behind me.
The hall in front of me is long and narrow, and I’m starting to sweat. The longer I run, the more I’m puzzled — how long is this fucking hallway? No, scratch that; how big is this house? Why the hell do I feel like I’m running a marathon?
His footsteps aren’t too far, and he’s quickly catching up with me. He doesn’t say anything, and right now, I’m grateful, because I don’t know how I’d react to his voice. The mere memory of it is enough to cause my stomach to clench, and I’m not exactly proud of it.
My breathing is heavy, and I have a second to make a decision.
There’s a door to the left and to the right. They look identical, both slightly open ajar and both metal, and the darkness inside doesn’t help me make a decision. My eyes close for a moment before I turn left and enter the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
