It t’was Halloween night, and as we slowly crept toward the manor, the fear in our heart grew louder. The roar of Cynthia’s taunts rang deep in our mind; you see, earlier that day, she claimed to have made the tremendous trek up horror hill and felt we were “too pansy” to participate. We continued the climb, and with every step, regret encapsulated our body.
Top of the hill, we’re at the top of the hill; our heart pumping, blood rushing, and veins pumping with adrenaline. That’s it, isn’t it? All Cynthia said was that we had to… “pansy.” Her words rang clear.
GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT OF OUR HEAD-
“Knock,” “Knock,” “Knock.”
The door slowly creeps open, but there’s no one there to greet us. Cold, all we feel is cold; do we go in, should we leave? Staring at the dark, barren, unwelcoming hallway we entered, Cynthia’s disgusting words fueled my bravery.
Fear…blood running cold through our veins. The doors closed… it’s closed; who closed the door? Cynthia, this is all Cynthia’s fault if we just… were trapped, the door closed on its own. Never did it once occur to us to try and open the door, but it probably would not have made a difference anyway.
Okay, okay… time to get our bearings; this place is cold and quiet… Let’s look around. Split up? Horror movie 101, never split up we shall travel together. The manor is so silent. The temperature seemed to drop with every step we made down the enormous entryway.
Couches…let’s sit. The adrenaline pumping through our system masked the toll of the monumental journey up to the manor. Soft, the couch feels soft; we sunk in. Cynthia rang silent, her cries of slander slipping away. Slumber, slumber on the soft couch; all we crave is sleep… Goodnight Cynthia.
Bright lights hang over our head interrupting the sweet slumber brought about by the cold, soft, sofa of the manor. Confused, we feel confused. “Where are we? Where am I?” Trapped, were trapped; our arms clasped, our legs shackled.
We’re cold; this place is cold and scary just like the manor, but it’s not dark… if only it were dark, our eyes don’t take kindly to light.
A figure smudges into our eyeline, his head blocks the blaring lights, and our vision slowly comes back into focus.
“You gave us quite the scare there Cynthia, staying out of the ward all night like that!” His words wringing incoherently in our mind…
What is he talking about? Cynthia’s not here! Where is Cynthia? Did she do this to us? “Everything is going to be okay now, Cynthia,” whispered the man, who only seemed like a figure again.
He had already injected something tingley into our veins, and we watched his sly smirk slither away sending us straight into slumber.