and blink my eyes until we break through the mist and into the main area. A guitarist flares on his strings on a stage near the farthest wall and music bursts through several large speakers. Orange and black streamers are spiraling around columns, and purple and silver ceiling lights flash down on the packed dance floor, where people jump up and down, shouting out the lyrics of the song. There are witches, devils, vampires, Frankenstein’s, and even a few Angels. In the farthest corner, someone is fashioned in a Grim Reaper costume.
“God, I hope there aren’t too many of them,” I mumble.
Raven tracks the object of my gaze. “Oh, Emmy, you don’t fear the Reaper, do you?”
I shoot her a blank stare. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
She smiles and hooks arms with me. It’s the strangest thing in the world, touching her and not feeling her death. We create a wide path with her wings as we weave around the room, toward the common area, a small room just behind the stage. Heads turn in our direction, but I keep focused on the common room doors.
“Why are we going back here?!” I yell over the music.
She points at the doors decorated with spider webs and an ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK sign. “There’s a haunted house back there and Asher just sent me a text that he was walking through it with some friends.”
I slam to a stop and she’s jerked back. My mind is begging me to turn around and run.
“Em, what the hell?” She unclasps our arms. “What are you looking at?”
My pulse races as I stare at the door. “I’m not sure I want to go in there.”
She rolls her eyes and jerks me forward. “Come on, we’ll be fine.”
“Why can’t I just meet him out here?” I ask, glancing back at the dance floor.
“Stop being a chicken!” She laughs and it brings my focus back to her. “I was only kidding about him being the Reaper.”
She pushes through the door and I follow her into the haunted house. It’s dark inside and when the door shuts behind us, it suffocates the music. There are skeletons in the entrance of a hallway formed by hay bales and orange and purple twinkle lights light the way down the path.
I back up, but Raven wrenches me forward. “You are going to have fun tonight whether you like it or not.”
Shaking my head, I trudge after her. One of the skeletons jump up and shriek at us as we pass it and Raven speeds up, laughing. The farther we go, the more scarce the lights get, until there are none left and we’re smothered by blackness.
Screams fill the air along with evil laughs and a warm mist dampens my skin.
“Raven,” I hiss, clutching onto her. “I want to go back… this was a mistake coming back here.”
Her hand falls from mine and she laughs. “Last one to the end’s a rotten egg.”
I stumble around in the dark with my hands sprawled out in front of me. “Raven, where the hell are you?"
Behind me a light clicks on and highlights the graffiti on the wall. I lower my hands as another light turns on and emphasizes a chain link floor-length gate in front of me. I push through the gate and step into the next section, which is lined wall-to-wall with mirrors. The gate slams shut behind me and I whirl around, threading my fingers through the links, jerking it fiercely.
The gate won’t budge, so I hurry, vigilantly, up the slender hall between the mirrored walls. “Raven, please tell me where you are. This isn’t funny anymore.”
I hear her laugh from somewhere and the lights flash off, then on again as a man appears at the end of the hall, with dark hair, kohl-lined eyes, black jeans, and a T-shirt. A giant X brands his forehead.
I squint through the blinking lights that reflect blindingly against the mirrors. “Laden?”
“Hello, Ember.” He grins, expanding his arms out to the side of him. “Long time, no see.”
I back up, but crash into a solid figure and a thousand deaths pour through me: pain, terror, falling, drowning, fire, pain, pain, pain. I buckle forward, but he grasps my arm, rotates it behind my back, and reels me to face him.
Garrick’s greasy hair shines in the light and he scratches the X on his eye. “You’re not playing the game right, do you know that? You‘re not answering every question we ask and you’re not