3vil Page 7

  Eric fights to peel the despondent woman from him. “Whoa, slow down.” He cannot help but wrinkle his nose in disgust at her powerfully foul breath.

  Jenna does not hear him. “Please! Right now! There’s something wrong with this party, this place!”

  Eric is deathly afraid that her crazed pleading will alarm the wrong people, perhaps the Master himself. But no one bothers with the two frightened children.

  “What about the others? Your friends?” he asks.

  “Forget them,” she snaps. “We have to save ourselves!” Her makeup streams down her face with tears.

  He puts his arms around her, and she wraps herself tightly against him. He’d enjoy the physical contact so much more if he weren’t frantically concerned with the numerous maniacs surrounding them.

  Slowly Eric backpedals them through the cluster of people, carefully watching for any signs of distress or alarm.

  Yet the white masks of the partygoers remain fixed in their huddles. Not even any nude servers or random other guests are in sight to trouble them.

  His shoulders rub against some guests. “Sorry, pardon me,” he offers quickly from habit. Yet nobody acknowledges his politeness.

  The pounding bass and excited chatter continue uninterrupted as the two finally reach the house. Without looking, he finds the handle to the rear door.

  The two ease their way quietly into the silent house.

  Eric releases Jenna to secure the large glass door behind them. Without his support, she collapses to the ground with an awkward thud.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He swoops down to her level.

  She is still woozy and drunk, yet unharmed by the spill despite a bright welt appearing on her forehead. “We have to go now,” she repeats weakly.

  “Sure,” says Eric, “but I have to get Ace first.”

  “No, we can’t.” Her voice begins to fill with dread again. “We can’t find him! It’s not worth it!”

  Eric lifts Jenna back to her feet and explains, “But I know where he is. He’s right upstairs.”

  Eric points to one of the corridors above them. It is perfectly dark and lifeless. When Jenna stares into the hallway, she shivers.

  Eric continues, “He was crying out, ‘No, no,’ before. I can’t just leave him.”

  “It’s too late for him,” says Jenna resolutely.

  Then a voice in the distance wails weakly, “No.” It is loud enough to be heard, but lacks any urgency or vigor. It is like the speaker is surrendering to death.

  “See? He’s still up there.” Eric’s eyes are filled with hope. “We have to help.”

  With Jenna braced against the table, he charges for the stairs.

  “Wait!” Jenna cries.

  “I’ll be right back,” assures Eric.

  “Please!” Jenna’s drunken tears return in a torrent. “Don’t leave me alone!”

  Eric quickly dances back to her. “Then come with me.”

  “Thank you, thank you,” she says.

  “But just be quiet.”

  Jenna’s crying becomes sharp, muffled sniffles.

  He tries to push their pace up the stairs, but her intoxicated feet are clumsy and slow.

  “No,” says the voice again in an even groggier cadence.

  They reach the top of the stairs and face a long, black hallway. They can only see a few feet of carpeting and red walls before the house disappears into an empty abyss.

  “Can you see anything?” asks Eric.

  “No,” says Jenna.

  Eric pulls his phone from his pocket and shines its puny light down the path. The darkness seems to scurry away from the illumination.

  A weak groan emanates from deep with the corridor before them. Eric nods to the girl that he is going to proceed forward.

  The two cautiously begin to creep ahead. The ring of shadows from their light shivers with every hesitant step. The music continues pulsing in the distance like a frenzied heartbeat.

  From the shadows, a door appears to their left.

  Eric holds a finger over his mouth to shush Jenna, who whimpers at the gesture. She clamps her own hands over her nose and mouth to silence an involuntary whimper. She looks as if she is trying to suffocate herself.

  The boy approaches the quiet door and presses his ear against the wood.

  He listens for any signs of life from whatever chamber lurks within.

  Silence.

  When he turns the door knob, it clicks.

  Eric nods to Jenna, who stymies a small yelp.

  Eric rips the door open and beams his light into the area.

  A bright light flares back at him, both startling him and blinding him. A shape moves quickly at him too.

  He flops back on his rear, and the other light vanishes when his phone clatters on the ground.

  Now face down on the carpet, only a small halo of light glows around its rectangular face.

  “No!” shouts Jenna in a fierce whisper.

  He quickly grabs the phone and lights up the doorway.

  There is nothing there.

  As the pair inspects the mysterious room together, they find that it is a large bathroom with only a toilet, sink and large marble counter. The fixtures are an antique, shiny brass, while the walls are painted in bright red.

  The phone’s light reflects off a broad mirror which covers the entire back wall. Eric had been startled by his own reflection.

  The two frightened children can finally see their own, haunted visages for the first time in hours. Their appearances have wilted from exhaustion and fright.

  “Sorry,” Eric sheepishly says. “If I scared you,” he quickly adds.

  A voice shouts, “Oh!”

  The two jump at the sound. It is a sharp, loud wail that soon fades into silence.

  “That’s him,” hisses Eric. He abandons Jenna to investigate.

  As their only light source leaves with him, Jenna thinks she sees a figure vanish into the shadows of the mirror. It looked like a tall man with long hands but no face. And if what Jenna saw was real, it meant that he would be standing just to her left in the bathroom, hiding behind the wall.

  She quickly flees to catch up with Eric. “That wasn’t there,” she mumbles to herself.

  She smacks her head to sober herself up, but the blows only begin to wheel the world even more violently around her.

  She restrains some vomit as she bumps into Eric from behind. They have advanced deep into the hallway, where the foyer’s light is a small box on the horizon behind them. Still no light enters their space from any door or window, and the two rely solely on Eric’s phone to see their whereabouts.

  “He’s here,” says Eric, pointing at a nearby door.

  “How do you know?” asks Jenna.

  Eric’s nose sniffs the air. “I can smell his shitty cologne.”

  Again, Eric approaches the closed door and presses his ear against the wood. Jenna follows suit as well.

  Their faces are just inches from each other. When Jenna smiles, Eric smiles back.

  A rustling and groaning can be heard faintly from within the room.

  Eric reaches slowly for the doorknob when his wrist is snatched.

  “Are you sure?” asks Jenna tearfully. Her fingernails dig painfully into Eric’s wrist, even drawing a few drops of blood.

  After the boy rips his arm away, he softly answers, “No. I’m not.”

  Jenna’s mouth wrinkles with doubt, but she nods approvingly anyways.

  Eric’s hand returns to the knob. When he twists, it clicks in release.

  The door begins to open with a shrill creak. The noise startles both, so he stops suddenly. The portal’s gap exposes a thin strip of the interior. The two peer inside to the softly lit room.

  This chamber is a vast bedroom. Flashing lights from the party outside beat into the space through some drawn blinds on the far wall. A candelabra’s weak haze also shines from a back dresser.

  The rest of the room is bare, save for an ornate four-p
ost bed in the center and its occupants.

  “Ace,” says Eric breathlessly.

  Ace lies on his back in the middle of the bed. His face cannot be seen because it is concealed by the long, cascading silver hair of a nude woman on top of him. While she sits to his side, her face appears to be locked onto Ace’s, who is only identifiable by his clothes and the curly black wig atop his head.

  At the base of the bed is another woman, also nude but with long black hair. Kneeling on the mattress between his legs, her face is also obscured. It is currently buried in his crotch.

  His arms and legs are tied to the posts with decorative green scarves, but he does not resist the restraints. Both women’s bodies writhe busily as they mash their heads into him.

  Eric’s concern swells at his friend’s lack of motion. But he is happily reassured when a soft, masculine moan comes from the group.

  When he looks to Jenna, his smile instantly vanishes. The poor girl is horrified at the sight. Her cheeks bubble outwards as she stifles a gagging cough.

  She flees back down the hallway, blindly groping for the bathroom.

  Eric’s pursuit is halted by an odd noise. It is like a crunch. From the lovers’ room, he now hears a distinct but soft popping. Beneath the relentless current of dance music, there is a noise akin to someone eating a bowl of crispy cereal.

  A louder crack then pierces the silence followed by a weak whimper.

  Eric’s attention refocuses on the three. He is not so certain now of the lovers’ actions as he was originally.

  * * *

  Though she almost breaks her hand against the suddenly materialized doorknob, Jenna still flings the door open and blindly rushes into the bathroom.

  Her hands scrape against the wall in the darkness, frantically searching for a switch.

  Then she remembers the faceless man from before, who was standing exactly where her hands are clawing now.

  She squeals with fright as her hand knocks against some thin and hard fingers.

  With a frightened howl, Jenna fights back. She wildly flails both arms about in defense. Her arms get battered mercilessly by the unseen and unyielding appendages.

  Her fingers finally find a switch, and the room is flooded with light.

  She can clearly see her assailant now. Her skirmish with the coat rack ceases.

  When she tries to chuckle, she feels the nausea swell in her stomach.

  Pouncing onto the toilet like a feral feline, she flings the seat up and releases the contents of her stomach.

  The puke is voluminous, pouring from her mouth like an open spigot. The amount is far more than her stomach could possibly ever handle.

  Though her eyes are pinched from the strain, they remain open enough to see that it is not a liquid pouring from her body. Also from the feel of the substance inside her throat, Jenna can tell she is expelling a solid though squishy tube. It is a sickly purplish-pink in color.

  Jenna closes her eyes to banish the gruesome sight, but she cannot hide from this horrific feeling as it courses through her body. It is akin to a bloated serpent slithering up and out of her mouth.

  After an interminable puking, her illness finally stops. She spits out a final few drops of bile with some last gasping heaves.

  As she pants breathlessly with eyes still shut, she hears a small hiss from right before her. The sound is like a frightened cat. Its source is a few inches away in the toilet bowl.

  Jenna opens her eyes only far enough to find the lid to slam it closed. She tries her best to ignore the slick, squirming mess she has made, whatever it exactly may be. Inside the bowl comes soft sloshing and splashing sounds. She can feel it pressing back against the shut lid.

  * * *

  Back down the hallway, Eric squints to better study Ace and the girls. They continue in the same manner as before, though the chomping sounds grow louder.

  Before Eric can plot a course of action, a voice babbles a string of raspy gibberish from his right.

  When he looks for the speaker, he finds a figure standing in the corner. It is a young woman in an elaborate gown. She has light pink ruffles and trim flowing from her bosom and off her bustle. She wears a white mask which only covers the top half of her face from her nose up. Her gloved hand points directly at him.

  Eric is astonished by her presence, wondering if she had somehow been present the entire time.

  Her mouth houses a black tongue and dirty teeth which are all busy sneering the sinister words at him.

  The two women upon Ace raise their heads. They too have white half-masks covering their eyes with a pair of empty black holes. Their mouths drip with bright red blood.

  Before he can study the condition of his mutilated friend, Eric flees as quickly as he can.

  * * *

  Jenna flushes quickly and jumps away.

  Now back on her feet, Jenna retreats from the site of her illness. Though she feels markedly better with the poison purged from her body, she now trembles with fear at the thing in the toilet. She watches the bowl closely, waiting for any signs of life.

  The lid rattles and shakes.

  She dives out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

  Back in complete blackness again, she is suddenly tackled from her side. The ambush sends her tumbling to the ground in pain.

  The figure falls awkwardly to the floor with her. A clattering phone casts a pale blue light on Eric. “Eric!” she gasps, sliding over to nurse his head.

  “I’m fine,” he grunts while lifting himself to an elbow. “Let’s leave.”

  They hear a thudding coming from behind them in the dark depths of the hallway. It grows louder as it approaches, pounding like a drum on the warpath.

  Eric shines his phone back down the hall.

  One of the nude women scrambles quickly at them. Her lean body moves in a disrupted and inhuman pattern, as if her limbs were broken yet still functional. With her arms raised high above, the disjointed gait resembles a clumsy dance.

  The fiend growls as she approaches. Its intensity rises with every shuffling footfall. Her bloody mouth is bared like a savage.

  Eric closes his eyes and hugs Jenna close to his chest. But she cannot stop looking at the hellish thing as it runs up to them.

  The woman passes without pausing. Still growling fiercely, she continues her gallop onto the stairs and down out of sight.

  The two teens rise to their feet. Eric’s phone shows nothing else approaching. Only the ubiquitous party music in the distance can be heard beneath their panting breaths.

  “No Ace?” asks Jenna.

  “No,” says Eric resolutely.

  Jenna takes Eric’s hand and begins marching them towards the stairway. “Then we’re getting the hell out of here,” she announces. Her pace is so resolute that Eric struggles to catch up.

  The bright lobby at the exit of the hallway mercifully grows with every step.

  When they reach the top of the stairs, Jenna gasps in shock. They both freeze in fear.

  Beneath them in the house’s lobby, the entire party of guests has gathered together, cramping the quarters full with their numbers. The hundreds of white masks all stare silently up at the two frightened students.

  At the base of the stairs stands their lost host Benjamin. By his side crouches the naked female with the blood-soaked mouth. He lightly strokes her silver hair like she was a pet.

  “The rules are not hard,” says Benjamin with a sly grin. “Not hard at all.”

  “We’re sorry, please let us go,” begs Jenna tearfully.

  “Go? But you are just in time for the final celebration of Samhain.”

  The two turn to flee, but stop suddenly again.

  Behind them is the other woman from the bedroom, the lunatic with black hair. While crouched on all fours, she shows her bloody fangs when she snarls at them.

  The albino demon crawls forward slowly, so Eric and Jenna inch backwards.

  Then the thing pounces forward quickly, lunging onto Eric. It sin
ks its teeth into the nape of his neck. He screams in pain as blood spurts from the wound.

  Jenna leaps on the monster, digging her fingers into the woman’s face to pry it off of her friend.

  The ghoul swings wildly, shoving Jenna onto the stairs. When she trips, she stumbles backwards onto the staircase. After a pair of painful flips, she is knocked into complete unconsciousness.

  * * *

  Jenna awakes. Before her is the infinity of the night sky, a sea of blackness specked with white stars. Slowly she drifts through them in a lovely and perfect peace.

  Then she is aware of the many hands upon her. Realizing she is flat on her back, she looks to her side to find that she has returned to the back of the cursed house. The legions of white masks are passing her along overhead, helping her to crowdsurf across their ranks.

  “What’s going on?” she asks weakly.

  She is lifted vertically and hoisted upwards. The hands grip her from all directions, pulling her arms and feet back behind her body.

  In an instant, she is bound to a tall pole with cold chains. While the restrictions constrain her ankles and wrists tightly, her body rests upright in an otherwise comfortable manner.

  Jenna sees she is but one of several girls bound to these poles. The dinosaur, a nurse, some others she doesn’t recognize from before all surround her in an evenly spaced ring around the plaza.

  But then she sees Maya and Chloe across the way. Their eyes are barely open, but Jenna can see they are still breathing.

  In the center of the ring of women is a man dressed in a long white robe sitting high atop a chair. A hood with three large horns conceals his eyes.

  Beside him sits a pool in a large stone bowl. It is filled with a dark purple liquid that continuously churns and froths like a spa.

  “Please, I’m sorry. Just let me go,” cries a boy.

  Jenna sees an open circle beneath her, cleared within the throngs of people. Eric kneels in the midst of it, nursing his bloody shoulder.

  Benjamin stands beside him and shouts in a strange dialect to the man in white. His voice is suddenly much deeper and resonates with an unearthly echo.