Fucking imbeciles, man.
It blows my mind how sick in the head these men are. I arrived here just in time to see Mark eyeing up a doll eating a sandwich while his wife, Claire, sits right next to him and watches him eye-fuck a young girl.
She doesn’t look the least bit jealous but incredibly concerned for the girl dressed up as a broken doll.
It takes all my strength not to charge up to him and smash his head into that wooden bench until nothing remains but brain matter and bone.
But I stay in the shadows, keeping one eye on Mark, and the other on the crowd, looking for my little mouse.
She’s going to be a distraction tonight, and that could cost me. I roll my neck and blow out a breath. Addie running into Mark is a slim possibility but not impossible. If she stays far away from them, then she should be safe to have a fun time.
Mark and his partners came here with the intention of stealing a child or two. Though they’d never do the dirty work themselves. They’re public figures and would never risk being caught.
Notably, none of the men have their kids, which proves they came here with a plan and didn’t want the hindrance. They’ll be here under the guise of spending time with their wives and nothing more.
But I’ll bet my left nut he takes pictures, and sics a lackey on whoever he deems… appetizing.
My goal tonight is to prevent any kidnapping attempts from being successful. I have several men on standby stationed all throughout the fair, keeping an eye on each of Mark’s business partners, whoever they target, and any other suspicious activity.
And it looks like Mark may have found his first target.
The broken doll is in a staring contest with Mark, exchanging smiles like an addict and their dealer. She’s not a child by any means, but she’s still young enough to sell into the skin trade.
“I got eyes on Mark,” I inform. Jay and the other mercenaries will be able to hear me through the earpiece fitted snugly in my ear.
Keeping a safe distance, I maneuver around passing bodies to get a better view of the doll’s face. The creepy-ass smile warping her lips speaks of a challenge far more than words ever could. Daring him to come after her. Based on the glimmer in her eyes, it feels deeper than just performing for her job.
Claire is still staring at the girl, too. But fear is radiating from her pores as brightly as the blush painted on her hollow cheeks. Mark doesn’t notice, but it seems the doll does.
The latter hops off the bench, winks at Mark, and skips off towards a haunted dollhouse. Mark’s eyes follow her the entire way, his gaze pinned to her ass and tongue swiping at his crusty lips.
And then he’s sliding his phone out of his pocket and making a call. My eyes thin, splitting my attention between Mark and the doll that disappeared inside Annie’s Playhouse.
He stays on the phone for all of a minute before he’s hanging up and turning to Claire. His wife nods imperceptibly, just a single dip of her chin. What Claire has knowledge of is a mystery to me. Mark may hide most of his dealings, but I imagine she’s not completely ignorant to how her husband spends his free time.
The haunted houses come to life almost immediately after. Flickering lights blare from the windows, and eerie music fills the air, mingling with the startled screams from guests. The colorful smoke that’s been drifting across the open field now clouds the inside of the houses.
Hordes of people start drifting towards the creepy structures, forming lines outside the still locked doors.
Mark clenches Claire’s arm and drags her up from the bench, speed walking directly towards Annie’s Playhouse. And emerging from the bustling crowd behind Mark are his colleagues. Jack, Ben, and Robert.
Well, I’ll be fucking damned.
“I got eyes on all four,” I say quietly.
“Location?” Jay asks, keyboard clicking in the background. Whoever owns this park doesn’t believe in safety. No cameras exist around the entire field, forcing Jay to use a small drone that hovers above the carnival. It won’t be able to go into any of the houses undetected, but it will be able to capture any kidnapping attempts.
“Annie’s Playhouse.”
“Let us know if you need us,” one of the men, Barron, says. His deep baritone voice is easy to pick apart from the others.
I open my mouth, ready to respond, but then I see a flash of cinnamon hair already in line for Annie’s Playhouse.
Fuck me with a pogo stick.
The broken doll must be conspiring with God because only divine fucking intervention would bring all of them together like this.
The minute I see Mark tap Addie’s shoulder while they stand in line, my entire stomach bottoms out. He and his colleagues happen to be standing right behind her, and it took less than five seconds for Mark’s eyes to land on Addie and Daya’s ass. It took more effort to drag his eyes up to their faces and recognize who was standing before him.
Addie turns, and surprise flitters across her face, followed by a forced smile and an enthusiastic display, despite finding the fucking Crypt Keeper standing behind her. Daya looks Mark up and down, an unimpressed glint in her eyes despite the polite smile curling her lips.
I watch them talk for a few minutes, Mark his usual boisterous self as he introduces her to his colleagues.
Even now, I know Addie well enough to know there’s beads of sweat gathering along her hairline. I’m sure Mark has asked where I am, and I’m only curious to know what her response is.
The whole interaction makes my skin tight, and I’m gearing up to storm over there.
I was trying to give Addie space tonight, but that’s no longer an option. Now that four predators are about to enter into a house with her, there’s a high possibility Addie and her friend will never make it home.
If I wasn’t here, of course.
Mark may like me, but he doesn’t respect me. Not more than the Society, at least. And his buddies aren’t going to even consider me when they’re ushering two beautiful girls into a non-descript van. The only thing on their minds will be pussy and dollar signs.
I beeline towards Mark, barreling through a guy that looks like he roasts in a tanning bed like it’s the Fountain of Youth. Doesn’t make sense, but clearly the kid doesn’t possess any if he’s pointedly standing in my way and refuses to move after he sees me coming. Exactly why he ends up on his ass, curses following me as I continue on my path.
Just as I approach, Addie and Daya are ushered into the house, leaving Mark and his friends behind. The houses have an occupation limit to prevent the cramped space from becoming too congested. Especially with people running like their life depends on it.
“Mark!” I greet loudly, a smile stretched across my face. I can feel my scars tightening from how hard I’m forcing it, but the old man is too self-absorbed to notice.
Mark looks startled as he turns to me, but just like Addie, a strained smile stretches across his face.
“Zack! You made it! I just saw Addie go in with her pretty friend. She said you went off to find a bathroom.”
Smart little mouse.
She left it open to the possibility that I’m around somewhere and could show up any minute. Fucking love that girl.
I flash my teeth again. “Yeah, I just found a quiet spot real quick,” I say, pointing over my shoulder lazily.
“Ah, being a man is God’s gift,” he laughs, slapping my arm. “You’ve met my colleagues here.”
I exchange quick pleasantries, but I shift, wearing my impatience on my sleeve. The employee opened the door and is waiting for me to enter. “Mind if I cut ahead? I want to catch up.”
Mark swoops his hand forward, gesturing for me to go ahead, his lips tightened into a thin line.
Someone shouts behind me, noticing that I cut in line. Mark’s placations are cut off by the slam of the door.
Walking into this house feels like stepping into another dimension that demons inhabit. My skin prickles as I look around the pink monstrosity.
“What in the actual hell?” I mutter under my breath, momentarily distracted by the eyesore this house is. If Addie and I have a daughter, I hope she has some goddamn sense and prefers black.
It feels like my eyeballs are physically cringing from all the pink. Did Barney come in here and shit everywhere? Jesus fucking Christ.
Addie’s light brown hair flashes in my peripheral. Just as my eyes slide to her, she’s disappearing behind a corner, getting chased by a monster. Their screams fill up the smoky atmosphere, bringing a smirk to my face.
It’s a good taste of what I’m going to make her sound like later.
My feet work on autopilot, trailing after her. I hear the door open again, followed by Mark and his friends’ voices. I’ll be sure to keep a firm barrier between my girl and the dipshits behind me.
Addie and Daya will have fun, undisturbed by the real monsters in the house.
It’s when they scramble up the stairs, a laughing heap of limbs and screams—I lose sight of them. I run up the stairs, hearing their screams from behind the first door.
I study the hallway system. There are too many doors in this hallway, making it physically impossible for this many rooms. Some of them are false doors, which means they could end up in any one of these rooms when they come out the other side. They might not even come back out in the hallway at all if the rooms connect on the inside.
Sighing, I make my way down the hallway, intent on peeking in a few rooms and finding the best place to camp. Singing erupts moments later, and I freeze from the ice-cold chills traveling down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck rising. It could be a part of the haunted house experience, but something niggles at the back of my mind. Warning me of incoming danger.
Not shit I can do about it until someone comes out swinging.
Ignoring the singing, I forge on. There should be an exit sign hanging over one of the doors in the case of a fire, so guests know where to evacuate. I suspect it’ll be in one of the back rooms. I can camp out in the room opposite, which will allow me to keep an eye on the hallway and I’ll know exactly when Addie leaves.
When I enter the room on the left, I sweep my eyes across the small area, looking for the exit. In tandem, I feel a presence come up behind me—one that doesn’t want to invite me to their tea party anytime soon—while mechanical mannequins burst from an armoire and a closet. My heart stalls in my chest, but I stay calm as I turn towards the malicious presence at my back.
The last thing I expect to see is the broken doll from earlier—the one taunting Mark.
Her brown hair is pulled up in pigtails, with pink bows wrapped around them. Dull, brown eyes stare at me, intent shining brightly behind the makeup on her face. Up close, she’s a lot creepier than I had expected.
Probably because the look in her eyes is murderous. I glance down, taking quick inventory of her. She’s wearing a thin white nightgown, leaving little to the imagination. I barely notice her nipples poking through the thin fabric. No, what my eyes lock in on is the outline of a knife strapped to her thigh.
My blood chills. If this bitch tries to hurt my little mouse…
“Where are they?” I ask, keeping calm. I’m waiting to see confusion bloom on her face, followed by a question on who I’m talking about. But she doesn’t give me that sense of security.
She seems to know exactly who I’m talking about.
“Safe from you,” she snips. Then she turns her head to the side, staring at the wall. “Let the others know two women are being followed and make sure they get away safely. I have this handled.”
I can’t help the smirk that tips up the corners of my mouth. While part of me is tripped up on who she’s talking to, I’m mostly amused that she thinks she can handle me.
Her eyes track something that I can’t see, as if she’s watching them leave.
“So, you’re crazy, huh?”
She rears back, offended by my assessment. Frankly, I couldn’t give a less of a shit.
Anxiousness is curdling in my stomach like spoiled milk. Addie and Daya still haven’t stumbled their way to the back of the hallway yet. And this little girl must think I’m like Mark and here to hurt them and well… she’s not entirely wrong. Except I’m only interested in hurting one of them, and by the time I’m done, she’ll love the way I make her scream.
She snaps, “Don’t call me that. You’re the one preying on women.”
I arch a brow, on the verge of laughing in her face. “That just makes me disturbed. Not crazy.”
Her tiny hands ball into tight fists, and a snarl pulls her face taut with anger.
The doll lifts her nightgown far enough to bring out the knife and kicks the door shut behind her.
I can’t tell if I should laugh or rage. She’s deliberately keeping me from my little mouse, and that makes me very fucking unhappy.
“What are you going to do with that, dolly?” I ask, a mocking smirk on my face. This should be over quickly.
“I’m going to kill you, monster.”
I don’t have time for this shit.
The longer I’m trapped in a room with Chucky’s Bride, the more opportunity handed over to Mark. If the men notice I’m nowhere to be found, and Addie is left vulnerable, nothing will stop them from seizing the moment.
She’s more interested in talking, and time is ticking. I charge at her, but I’m surprised by how much fight she has in her.
I humor her, the sloppy attacks beginning with a knife and ending with her fists. The entire time, she rages like a petulant child. Throwing a fit because she can’t land a strike.
I see the desperation leaking into her expression, just as antsy to take me down as I am her.
Finally, I land one good sucker punch to her nose, causing her to lose her footing and go crashing to the ground.
She screeches out some idle threat, but my focus is on the door. I storm past her, whipping out the door and charging down the hall.
“Jackal!” she screeches from behind me, but I pay her no mind. I don’t know who the hell she’s talking to, but I don’t give a fuck.
I stop short when I look to my left and see the four men of the night packed into a room.
I breathe out a sigh of relief, a small weight lifting off my shoulders with the confirmation that they didn’t get the chance to trap Addie.
Until I hear the words that come out of their fucking mouths.
“Where did she go?” Brad asks, staring at Mark. “The van is already set to go. They just need to know their location.”
I snap straight, and my body stiffens like cement being injected into my spinal cord.
“We’ll find them,” Mark placates. “Zack wasn’t with them, so he must’ve lost them in the chaos. It’s the perfect time.”
“You do realize you’re going to have to handle him, right? When he finds out Addie is gone?” Robert cuts in. “With those nasty scars on his face, I have a feeling you’re underestimating him.”
Mark waves a hand, dismissing Robert’s concerns. His very fucking valid concerns.
“He got those scars because he was weak, Robert.”
I laugh silently, my head thrown back and shoulders shaking as I let his very ill-minded assumption wash through me. And then my laugh bleeds out, rocketing through the small space and blending with the other creepy noises pinging around this house.
The four men’s heads snap towards me, and bleed dry of whatever color was left in their faces. The four of them are sweaty and look like they have watched their worst nightmares come to life. They’ll soon realize that I sit on the fucking throne, and their nightmares bow to me. I’m far worse than any monster they could ever imagine.
I walk into the room, the grin on my face widening when they flinch away.
“Za—” Mark starts.
“You know how old these scars are, Mark? Very old. My opponent was a formidable one, but do you want to know who ended up on the floor with their throat slashed and holes where their eyeballs used to be? Certainly wasn’t me, fucker.”
Mark tries to brush off my story with a laugh, the sound choked and broken. “Zack, please, we weren’t speaking of your girlfriend.”
“Mark, the last thing you want to do is lie to me.”
Just as Mark opens his mouth, a little door in the room springs open and out crawls the biggest fucking nuisance of the night.
“For the love of God, please leave me alone,” I snap. Mark and his friends turn to find the doll straightening, a determined gleam in her eye.
Her face brightens. “God has nothing to do with this, silly.”
