Chance is a word void of sense; nothing can exist without a cause.
—Voltaire
“Do you believe in coincidence?” I ask Jake as I prop my feet up on the dash of his car.
We’re lurking in the car, parked in the shadows, and watching the long line form for the one-night-only Sin House. You’d think people would realize this little one-night show gets more action than anything in town all year long. It should attest to the fact the sick people around here are dark and demented from years of oppression.
“Coincidence? Yes.”
“Coincidences as big as ours?”
He sighs hard. “What’s this about, Lana? You’re seriously starting to worry me.”
I toy with the ends of my hair, staring down at it while we wait.
“Marcus always believed that nothing happened by chance. That everything was interweaved in fate’s plan, and that there was a purpose for everything.”
“What purpose is there in what happened ten years ago to your entire family and the only man I’ve ever loved?” He asks the question calmly, but he’s good at hiding his anger.
“I didn’t say it was a good purpose,” I tell him softly, reaching over to lace our fingers together.
He squeezes my hand and inhales deeply.
“If it hadn’t been our family, it would have been another,” I go on.
He lays his head back, staring down the end of his nose at the ever-growing line to the Sin House.
“What would Marcus say the reason was?” he asks, though his voice is rasp.
“You knew him just as well as I did. If not better. You tell me,” I go on, squeezing his hand this time.
His lips tense for a moment, then finally he speaks. “If he’d survived, you and I wouldn’t have had the anger to dig into the darkness and do what it took to reap revenge. If your father hadn’t been targeted, another man and his family would have been.”
“And not everyone has the ability to go dark enough to slice men’s cocks off several times and torture them for days without losing all sense of humanity,” I add with a shrug.
He laughs under his breath, shaking his head.
“Yes. He’d definitely point that out, and he’d say it almost just like that. He’d also say that no one would have the determination to see it through like you and me. He’d point out that I learned code for this very reason. That I learned tech for this very reason.”
My eyes settle on Logan as he walks by, looking around the line like he’s searching for someone or something. We’re perfectly hidden here amongst the other cars, and there’s a sensor to alert us if someone gets too close.
My bestie is awesomely paranoid like that.
“He’d tell us that Kyle Davenport might be the worst fucking person in the world and get away with it if I hadn’t been the one to survive and come back to collect his debt,” I say more seriously.
“And he’d say that the sheriff would get away with just as much, and no one would ever stand up to him,” he adds, the same serious tone.
“What would he say about Logan?” I ask as Logan lifts his phone, probably trying to find a teammate.
They’re waiting for Kyle, probably planning to watch him and see if anyone pays him any attention. I’ve already laid eyes on him. He’s right in the middle of the line, waiting his turn.
My stomach roils every time I see his face, so I refuse to keep looking. This will be the hardest one to find control. I’ll want to slice the flesh from his body over and over and over… Rage will be evident.
Unless I completely skin the fucker.
The haunted house is not really a house at all. It’s four large trailers that have holes cut in the fronts and backs, and they’re wedged together on the street, supported by blocks underneath. They’ll be wheeled back tomorrow, stored away until next year.
I doubt there will be a next year.
Kyle runs a hand through his dark hair, squeezing the ass of the girl with him who doesn’t look happy to be with him. He was too rough all those years ago when I stupidly dated him. I can only imagine he’s worse now, given the shiner on her eye.
Forcing my eyes away, I turn to Jake, waiting for him to answer. He looks lost in thought, and I start to think he never heard me.
“He’d say it was too coincidental not to mean something,” he finally answers, the words sounding almost reverent.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are the odds of you running into the lead FBI agent on your case? And falling for him? And him falling for you? Your paths were meant to cross, but he wasn’t meant to stop you, or he already would have. Even I, a man of pure science, cannot belittle what you have by labeling it with mere coincidence. Maybe he was meant to drag out your humanity the most right when you needed it.”
His eyes soften as he looks over at me.
“I’m sorry. I know each kill dulls you more. You got the worst end of this job. Just helping what little bit I have has seared pieces of my soul that I can’t get back.”
My lips purse as I resume watching Logan. “He makes me feel,” I say, though it’s something I’ve said many times before. “My soul actually feels restored with the kills as long as I have him afterwards.”
“He keeps you grounded and firmly attached to reality so you don’t end up like the profile.” He reaches over and squeezes my knee before kissing my cheek.
I give him a brittle smile as he presses his forehead against mine.
“He gives you a reason to want a future,” he adds quietly. “And through him, you found a piece of yourself you thought you’d lost. That’s given me hope for a future one day too, Lana. So maybe Marcus was right. Fate is a fucking cold-hearted bitch, but everything has a purpose.”
I snort and wipe away a tear, while he smirks and looks straight forward, leaning away from me. The lost, pained look in his gaze lets me know he’s thinking of all he and Marcus might have been, even though he says he never thinks of that.
Too many tears have fallen after I swore I’d never let another tear fall. I guess Jake is right about Logan bringing back out my humanity.
He can’t stop me from being a monster though.
If he was meant to stop me, he already would have, just like Jake said.
Kyle steps closer to the front of the line, and Chad Briggs moves with him. His second deputy accompanying him is Trevor Byron. Two more are stationed near the front, where the Sin House ends.
Those two will survive.
For tonight, anyway.
They’re on my kill list, but I think it’d be a little overly ambitious to try and take out five in one night. After all, I’m just one little girl.
Smirking, I watch as they get closer.
“Show time,” Jake tells me, handing me the wig/mask.
I’m already dressed in my jumpsuit. The padding will disguise my build and my weight. I pat my pocket, checking for the syringe. It’s still there.
Jake and I will have to tag team Kyle, to ensure Logan doesn’t catch me elbow-deep in his blood.
“Think you can get your car around there without anyone seeing?” I ask him.
“I think no one will say a word,” he taunts, arching an eyebrow.
“Let the sheep change shepherds,” I say as I get out of the car, tugging the mask on.
Everyone is dressed in so many costumes, that only a few even notice me as I pass by. I can’t hide my height, but after saving Logan last night, that doesn’t really matter anymore.
He saw me.
Well, he saw most of me. I worried he saw more, but he was so concussed he didn’t get a good look. I risked it all to make sure I saved him.
It’s hard to fight and keep your face hidden, but obviously I managed.
I still wonder what he would have said or done if he’d seen me and knew the killer of one’s nightmares was the one to save him because she loves him.
I take the side door, and no one even questions me, considering my costume. No one ever asks questions in this town. They just go with the flow, as their conditioning tells them to do.
The throngs of people divide for me, screaming as I split through them. Everyone loves a good scream, and as I pop out of the shadows, more of those screams find my ears.
It takes me a moment to find the corner Jake has set up, and I nudge a girl out of it, letting her think I’m taking over as part of the plan. Gotta love disorganization. Popular as it is, it’s still just put on by the high school, and has no organization extending beyond the original setup.
She leaves, carrying her fake axe with her, and I plug in my power saw.
Trevor is the first one I see, and I rev the saw, listening to some of the ones in front of him scream in terror, even though they think it’s all fake.
The dingy room is lit by a strobe light that flickers amongst the fog machines and red lights in the background. Trevor steps aside, waiting for Kyle and the others to catch up. I smirk behind the mask before grabbing him.
“Let go, fuckstick!” he snaps. “You’re not supposed to put your hands on people.”
Oh, how I wish he could see me smile.
Screams erupt from all around as I slam a knife into his chest and toss him into the corner. People burst out laughing as he gurgles on blood.
“That’s so fake!” one teenager shouts. “Nice try, Deputy Byron. Stick to your day job.”
As the deputy continues to bleed out, I catch a glimpse of Kyle in the back, unsurprisingly lingering by the ‘whore house’ stand that’s off to the side. My current box is labeled the ‘liar’ box.
We picked it on purpose.
I toss a sheet over Trevor as blood continues to plume and spread across his chest. He stares up in shock as I cover his head, tucking him in for a long sleep.
He’ll bleed out in front of everyone.
But that’s not my main event.
Chad Briggs comes into view just as I rev my power saw, and more screams erupt all around me as I pretend like I’m getting too close to the line of people. I cock my head from side to side, going with creepy overload.
Just as Briggs nears, leaving Kyle to dawdle at the whore house box a little longer—watching two girls make out while fake blood drips from their nipples through their white shirts—I rev the saw again.
Briggs eyes me, confused as to why this particular costume is in play. I walk up to him, and he smugly holds his ground while more people rush by, screaming like I’m an insane serial killer.
Well…
With one fast, unexpected yank, I toss Chad to the ground, and everyone around us erupts into frenzied screams. Chad’s eyes widen, and a curse spills from his lips when realization sets in seconds too late.
“You can’t see me,” I tell him as I dig the saw into him, turning it on full power.
A bloodcurdling scream erupts from his lips as the saw powers across his chest, slicing through flesh and spraying out blood that splatters against people in the line.
“Holy shit! That looks so fucking real!” one guy hoots.
I smirk, digging the saw in deeper, slicing it across his abdomen, spilling his intestines for all to see.
Everyone starts rushing by us, screaming as they point and take pictures. It’s sad that the world thinks visual effects are this good. Little do they know they’re witnessing a murder.
As Chad chokes on his blood, Kyle nears, and I lean down to whisper my favorite part.
“I’m Victoria Evans. The daughter of the man you killed. The sister to the boy you let die. The victim you turned into a monster. And I’m going to fucking kill you all.”
He tries to form words, but I stand, watching with sick fascination as he makes a pathetic attempt to hold his intestines inside his body. Kyle pales, the girl on his arm stumbles back, and I walk right toward him.
He’s seen the real stuff. He knows this isn’t fake.
He tries to turn and run, but I sling out the saw, catching him right in the back of the head.
Pity it’s not on.
It hits him hard enough to knock him to the ground, and his girlfriend screams and sprints through the massacre.
I grab a bottle of lye as I drag Kyle by the foot toward the door.
“Best. Liar Box. Ever! Holy shit! We’ll never top this next year!” one teen shouts in complete awe as Chad continues to silently mouth for help.
I toss the lye I brought onto the sheet by the door, drenching Trevor in it.
More screams erupt from under that sheet as the scent of rotting flesh and lye collide and permeate the air.
My eyes start burning, but the mask I’m wearing under the mask—yes, a mask under a mask—prevents most of the fumes from getting inhaled.
Others, however, start rushing out, screaming in real fear when they feel the burn.
With all the commotion, no one notices me dragging the unconscious Kyle to the box, where there’s a hole cut into the floor. No one sees me push him down in it as the screams continue from Trevor.
No one notices who it is the person in the mask is dragging down under the traveling house of horrors.
I drop down into the hole, seeing no one’s feet rushing away. Yet. Wheels roll up from behind, and I check my phone, watching the cameras as Logan speaks to Leonard.
The two deputies at the end are suddenly rushing into the house when the girlfriend runs out alone. It’s now or never.
I quickly roll out from under the trailer, and I drag Kyle with me. He’s out cold when I see the backdoor of a car opening. A few eyes swing toward us, and I hold my finger over my lips, the universal hush sign.
A woman pales and turns away, her entire body freezing. She doesn’t make a move or say a word.
Jake’s mask is on, and he turns around in his seat, grabbing Kyle’s arm and helping me shove him into the vehicle. I shove the syringe into his hip, making sure he stays out.
We don’t speak, and I let him go as I turn and walk away like I didn’t just help kidnap the sheriff’s son. I can’t wait to have five minutes alone with him.
As sirens wail and the craziness gets crazier, I hear Logan shouting for someone, and I know they’ve figured it out.
Now the fun begins.
Like the killers do in the movies, I disappear calmly into the woods, and no one follows me.
Something tells me Delaney Grove will never view a Haunted House the same again.
