He laughed. “No, not exactly. I was hoping I could get you pants-less like me.”
“Very smooth.”
He winked at me and then pulled me away from the fog machine. We started running down the hall. I only flinched one more time, which I considered a win.
“I can’t run in these shoes!” I yelled to him.
We were both laughing as he picked me up and ran out into the foyer. He didn’t waste any time as he carried me up the stairs to his bedroom. He somehow managed to open the door while holding me. And he kicked it closed. He skipped the lights, carried me right to the bed, and threw me down into the middle of it.
And my excitement quickly turned to disgust. “Matt, why is your bed so wet?” I blinked, trying to make my eyes adjust to the dark room. Oh God, it smelled gross too. What was that?
“Huh?” He leaned over me. “What the fuck?”
My hands were definitely wet. But I couldn’t see a thing. Ew. My back was wet too. Oh crap, all the curls in my hair! I reached up to touch the back of my head and realized my mistake. Whatever was on my hands got even more into my hair. Gross.
“Let me go get the lights.” Matt crawled off of me. He flicked the lights.
The first thing I noticed was that his hands and forearms were covered in…blood? “Matt!” I screamed. There was even some blood splattered on his shirt. I looked down at myself and screamed even louder. I was covered in it too. I wanted to laugh it off. The house was oozing with fake blood. But this wasn’t water with red food dye. It was thick and sticking to my hands. The whole bed was soaked in it. It was everywhere.
“What the fuck?” Matt said.
I crawled backward on the bed and my hand touched something soft. I looked down and screamed again. There was a dead dog in Matt’s bed. No, not any dog. A sob escaped my throat. It was Isabella’s dog, Sir Wilfred. Her adorable little puppy had his stomach sliced open. Oh God. His guts were pouring onto the bed and his white fur was matted with blood. I covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t puke. But the blood smeared across my face, spreading the horrid smell of blood right under my nose. I was going to be sick. I started gagging, but nothing came out.
Matt ran over to the bed and pulled me off, holding me tight. “Don’t turn around,” he said as he led me away from the bed and toward his bedroom door.
It was a little too late to protect me from seeing Sir Wilfred dead on his bed. I hadn’t just looked at the poor dog, I’d practically bathed in Sir Wilfred’s blood. How could someone do this to a sweet little animal? My stomach rolled. I looked up at Matt as he opened the door. And I realized he wasn’t staring at the bed. He was staring at the opposite wall. I turned to see what he was looking at.
On the wall above his dresser were the words, “You’re next,” written in Sir Wilfred’s blood.
You’re next.
The words rolled around in my head.
Isabella’s going to kill me.
My heart started racing. You’re next. As much as Matt’s arms comforted me, I didn’t need Matt right now. I needed my dad. He was the only one that knew what to do with Isabella. I needed to get to Miller or Donnelley so they could call my dad. I pushed myself away from Matt and ran out the door.
“Where are you going?” Matt yelled as he ran after me.
I barely stepped out of his room when I ran straight into Freddy Krueger. I screamed so loud that I was pretty sure they could hear me in the ballroom downstairs. Freddy Krueger grabbed me. “What the hell is going on?” he yelled down at me. His scarred face looked even more grotesque in real life.
“Get off me!” I screamed and tried to shove him off.
He just gripped my arms harder.
“Miller!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Donnelley! Help me!”
“Jesus, Brooklyn, it’s me,” Mason said and pulled his mask off. “What’s going on?”
I breathed a sigh of relief, which only made the blood fill my nose. I pointed behind me and then made the mistake of covering my mouth again, smearing more blood on my face.
Mason stared into the room. “What the fuck is that?”
“How long have you been up here?” Matt asked. “Have you seen anyone go into my room?”
“The only person I saw go in was Brooklyn like twenty minutes ago.”
“I was downstairs twenty minutes ago,” I said.
Mason shook his head. “But I saw you…”
“Isabella’s dressed like me. I mean, she’s dressed liked Sandy.” God, she hadn’t just dressed like me to annoy me. Well, I was sure that was a fun bonus. But she’d done it so she could sneak into Matt’s room and murder her poor dog on his bed. Isabella had done a lot of terrible things to me. But this was fucking insane. And I didn’t need the evidence that a person dressed like Sandy had gone into Matt’s room twenty minutes ago. I knew it was her. “It’s Isabella’s dog,” I said. “It was Isabella. She wants to kill me.” Saying the words out loud made it even harder to breathe. This wasn’t a game. I’d tried to ignore Isabella ever since homecoming. But it wasn’t working. Not fighting back was going to get me killed.