Page 11 of His to Fear
“I swear to god!”
“What was that?”
Eveline squeals, and I can practically hear the grinding of Zack’s teeth. Her squeal turns into giggles when Eros jerks.
A scare-actor dressed as a clown appears, smiling widely with blood dripping down his chin.
“Hello, you,” he grunts in amusement, walking after our still-driving tractor until he disappears in the mist.
“That was fun,” one of the men exclaims.
We continue deeper into the woods, more decorated than ever. Dolls with their heads decapitated hang from trees, skeletons with a speaker on who screams right as we drive by, causing everyone to jump in fear and then laugh hysterically.
Scare-actors walk around the path we’re driving, with me being the first to suffer. At one time, someone grabbed my foot so hard, Eros had to hold me so I wouldn’t fall off.
“Idiot,” I mutter, but we all keep going.
After a while, my pulse starts accelerating, and I feel excitement flare inside me. This isfun. And creepy. But mostly, I’m having a good time.
There is a heavy thud coming from the tractor’s tires, followed by a sputtering sound from the engine.
“No, no, no,” the farmer exclaims.
The fog has finally cleared, allowing us to see each other. No one seems to bother about the sounds, believing it’s all a part of the act.
The driver tries to get the engine to work again, panic filtering through him. “Start working again, you stupid engine.” He hits the wheel. “He’s after us. He’s coming to take me.”
One of the women giggles. “He’s a good actor. It’s almost as if his fear is real.”
The farmer fidgets with the keys in the ignition, but the engine repeatedly fails to start. A hushed silence envelops us, except for his ragged and hurried breath. “He’s coming. He’s coming. He’s coming!” Each time he says it, the words echo even louder, traveling through nature. “Helvete.”
He hops down from his seat, coming to stand by us. “Everyone, we’ll have to hurry away from here.”
The woman giggles again, nudging her friend’s shoulder.
“Ya hear me? You need to take this seriously.” Through themoonlight, he scowls, but real fear is evident in his eyes.
Slowed, cautious footsteps resound from the distance, causing the farmer to stiffen, coming to a complete stop. A silhouette holding an axe in his hands emerges from a thick trunk.
“Things are getting really scary,” one of the people says. I don’t know who.
Something fierce rattles through my chest, because this doesn’t feel like an act. It feels too true. The situation too panicked.
The farmer suddenly turns and runs the other direction. It takes a second for us all to react, but when the silhouette slowly pushes his way forward, his footsteps loud and clear through the rustling leaves that have fallen to the dry soil, that’s when everyone scrambles after the farmer.
In the darkness, I lose sight of Eveline and her men, but all I can think of is that I need to get out of here.
A compulsive need fills me with the intuition telling me to keep running, no matter what. I push my body forward, even when my legs are slowing down and my breaths come out in ragged bursts. I need to find my way out. That’s my only thought.
This has to be part of the act. The haunted fair has hired damned good actors.
Despite that, I no longer feel safe under the imposing darkness. Especially not as I hear a scream splitting the night, sending a blood-curdling sensation down my spine. I make my way as fast as I can forward, branches gripping hold of me and tearing through my dress. But I listen to that intuition screaming inside me—the compulsive need.
Until I at last stop to catch my breath. And realize, much to my utter horror, that I’m back where I started running.
I’m at the tractor, the hay bales rustling in the wild breeze. I stand there for a second, desperately looking around in thehopes of finding someone here. My eyes scan the darkness when I hear the rustling sound I initially thought came from the haybales. It grows louder, sounding abnormal. Branches creak like old bones, and my breath is visible in the chilly night air.
“Come on, Eveline. Where are you?” I mutter.
