CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELLINGTON
THE FREAK SHOW. Ten o’clock. Wear your Halloween costume from last year.
I read over the text for the hundredth time. Sin sent it to me an hour ago. I stand in the parking lot by my car. I just arrived, and it’s a quarter to ten. After I managed to get myself together, I exited the classroom and went straight home. I took a shower and woke up a few hours later in my bed. I didn’t mean to take a nap, but I was exhausted. Then like an idiot, I got out of bed and started getting ready for him.
Why the fuck am I here?
Why not?
I’m the one using him, right? I have always had darker thoughts when it came to sex, and I always believed that what I wanted was wrong. No one has ever told me that. I just know it from overhearing my mother’s sessions with her clients. She never judged them. They did enough of that themselves. Who wants to be choked, slapped, and treated like a piece of meat? We’re supposed to be treated like queens, not cheap whores. Maybe that’s what I am. What I’ll always be.
The Freak Show is the old fairgrounds tucked back deep into the woods of Pennsylvania. Once abandoned, they reopened it about five years ago. It’s here all year round. Every day is like Halloween. Hence the name Freak Show. People come from all around to visit.
My phone vibrates, and I look down to see it’s a new text from Sin.
You have three options: pick one.
Trick or treat
Run to hide
Bleed and die.
I read over the message a couple of times, trying to decipher his riddle. I have no clue what it means.
Trick or treat. I answer, thinking that sounds the most self-explanatory.
Sinful, sinful, little demon. You are my light like the devil is to freedom.
My frown deepens. Light? Devil? What the fuck is he talking about? Another message comes through, and I open it up to see it’s a picture of me standing in the middle of the parking lot.
I look up to see where the picture came from, and it’s the house of mirrors. Swallowing nervously, I start to make my way in that direction and almost trip over my heels in the rocky parking lot. This is what I wore to the guys’ Halloween party last year that they had at the house of Lords, which included heels. I should have switched them out for tennis shoes.
Making my way through the crowd of people, I enter the crooked house. I haven’t been here in years. The last time was with Kira. I was rolling my ass off, and she was my designated driver.
I grip the metal railing and walk up the stairs inside. The sounds of clown laughter fill my ears, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I know it’s fake, but it’s no different than sitting down and watching a scary movie, knowing damn well it’s not real. You can’t control how your body reacts.
Misattribution of arousal is physiological confusion. My body confuses itself as to why it’s being aroused. For example, fear. When I experience a massive overload of adrenaline, I get turned on. I get off on the unknown.
There’s a hallway to the left and another to the right. I take the one on my right, slowly walking down the narrow pathway. My arms are out to my sides, running my fingers along the floor-length mirrors. Red and blue lights flash from above, making it hard to see. It’s as if the walls are closing in on me, but it’s just an illusion. I stumble in my heels, my breath coming faster and faster by the second while “Thank You for Hating Me” by Citizen Soldier comes from the speakers lined along the ceiling.
I come to the end of the hall and look at myself in the mirror. I’ve got black leather bunny ears on. They cover the top half of my face; all you can see are my eyes. I’ve got them done smoky with black eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara. My lips are blood red to match my nails. I wear a strapless black leotard that has a built-in bra to push up my large breasts, and I top it off with fishnet tights. It’s a slutty Halloween outfit at its finest.
Reaching out to touch the mirror, I fall forward but manage to stay standing. There isn’t a mirror there. What? What the hell was I looking at, then?
I catch sight of something behind me, and I spin around, only to see nothing. The lights turn red and start to flicker. It looks like I’m blinking rapidly, but my eyes are wide open, staring ahead and just waiting for something to jump out at me.
My pulse accelerates, and I take a step back, only to hit something. I scream and turn around to see it’s a mirror.
“Fuck,” I hiss to myself.
I turn to my left and run down the hallway, pushing a door open at the end, hoping it’s the exit, but find a circular room lined with nothing but mirrors. And I’m alone. There’s no way out, it’s a dead end. I go to turn around, but before I can go back the way I came, the door slams shut on my face. There’s no door handle or lever to open it. Just another fucking mirror staring back at me.
Swallowing nervously, I take a step back and turn back to face the room. Chains hang from the black ceiling in various lengths. Some all the way to the floor, and some so high I can’t even reach them.
The lights are so bright in here. I lift my right arm to try to block them from shining down on me to get a better look at the room, but it doesn’t work. The warmth from the lights makes me start to sweat.
“You know what they call a devoted demon?” a voice whispers in my ear.
I spin around, only to find I’m alone. My hand goes to my chest, and I feel my heart pounding against it.
“The devil’s pet,” another voice answers.
Laughter follows.
“What the fuck?” I growl more to myself than them. Making my way over to where I know the door was, I try to open it again and nothing. Fisting my hands, I pound them both on the mirror. “Hello?” I call out. “Hello!” I raise my voice to a scream.
“Save your energy. You’re going to need it.”
I spin back around to yell once again, but my breath is taken away when I see three men standing at the opposite end of the circular room. All dressed in black jeans, combat boots, black hoodies, and masks. They’re not overly terrifying, but something about them has my skin tingling and breath hitching.
The one on the far right is a clown. It’s got oversized teeth with what looks like blood dripping from them. Big black eyes and a white face with red cheeks. The one in the middle wears a mirror-like mask. It’s got black holes for eyes and is so long that it dips into his black hoodie so you can’t see a single inch of skin. It doesn’t have a mouth of any kind. The one on the far left looks like a human face that has had all the skin removed, showing all the veins and tendons.
“Sin,” I breathe his name, placing my hands out in front of me in defense as if it’ll keep them away. “What are you doing?” I ask, licking my lips nervously.
None of them answer, and my knees threaten to buckle. My heart is in my throat, and the blood rushes in my ears. The lights turn off, and I suck in a deep breath. They come back on, and they’re gone.
“What?” I spin around in a circle but see nothing but myself in the mirrors. Were they even actually in here? Or was it an illusion of the mirrors?
The lights start flashing red and blue, just like in the halls, and a hand grabs my neck. I try to scream, but my air is cut off when the fingers tighten on either side of my throat. I’m lifted off my feet and shoved backward. A new set of hands grabs me, and my arms are lifted above my head. Something is wrapped around them, and I’m lifted to where I’m dangling from. My heels barely touch the floor.