Content Warnings: Gore and slight profanity

Thunder rumbles all around the house, flashes of lightning cracking through the curtains covering the windows. Hungry flames consume the wood in the fireplace, illuminating the faces of three of my friends with a warm glow. Shadows creep along the dimly lit walls like dancing demons threatening to swallow any unfortunate soul.

“Thunder. Lightning. Haunted house. Classic horror movie,” Kaden groans, swinging his leg over his thigh and lounging back against the couch. “Come on, Mila. I thought you said we were doing something completely new and scary on Hallow's Eve.”

“Shut up, Kaden. We just got here.” Layla pushes him playfully. Sitting beside him, he wraps his arm around her shoulders before she gives him a kiss on the lips and cuddles against him.

“Don’t worry. I promised you guys a good scare today, and I shall deliver." I grin. I definitely am determined to traumatize them tonight. That’s all I’m looking forward to. “So just… settle down and I’ll get right to it."

Two muscular arms wrap around me from behind as Lucas kisses me on the cheek. “You ready to terrorize everyone, babe?”

I give him a wide smile. “You betcha.” He walks around the couch and sits down on my right, the cushion seats sinking underneath both our weights. He gives me another kiss, this time on the neck. His nose tickles my skin as I giggle and nudge him away.

“Ew. Get a fucking room, you two.” Madéleine scrunches her nose in disgust, her red hair shimmering a warm, fiery color from the roaring fire.

I roll my eyes. “Not our fault you’re the only one who came here alone.”

“Yeah, well, my partner is terrified of haunted houses, so they didn’t want to join.”

Good for them, then.

“Alright, let’s get this party started.” White light flashes, followed by deafening rumbles of thunder. Everybody jumps a little at the noise, followed by the house groaning as the wind beats at the walls.

I clear my throat to get everyone's attention. “Okay, so, this house used to belong to a woman and her daughter back in the 1800s." My eyes slowly scan each one of my friends from right to left. “When the daughter was suspected of practicing magic and the dark arts, her church-devoted mother hanged her."

Layla's eyes widen in shock as Madéleine shifts a little in discomfort. Lucas's cheekbone twitches every so slightly.

"The house was fully renovated, but stayed unsold for a while. Actually, for a long time until sometime in the 90s when a married couple bought it. They seemed completely normal, the husband going off to work and the wife tending the house..."

All three of my friends' faces are now fixed in an intent stare, much to my enjoyment, while Lucas takes a deep breath.

With an amused chuckle, I lean forward and clasp my hands over my knees. “The wife… Now she was desperate to become famous on stage. All her life, she dreamt of being on Broadway and in theater. So, one day, she stumbled upon the very same book that the witch used before she was betrayed by her own mother."

The fire flickers violently, its flames creating dancing shadows along the walls. The storm continues to gain strength, each gust of wind howling louder as the house creaks and groans.

"And it just so happened to contain a ritual where all her deepest desires shall be fulfilled. Of course, at first she thought it was all bullshit. But the more she looked at it, the more her heart felt that this would actually work. After all, desperation can lead a person to commit the most despicable things. One night, the pages whispered to her, coaxing her to just give it a try. And she did.”

A cold breeze sweeps the living room, its icy chill kissing my face like icicles. Lucas shivers, as do the others while I exhale softly through my mouth, the warmth from my breath battling with the freezing air.

“She prepared everything. All the ingredients, tools, et cetera. By the time she was finished, there was just one itsy bitsy item left."

I pause, the tense atmosphere only disrupted by the raging storm which is becoming angrier each second. A few long, sinister seconds pass before I whisper:

"Her husband’s blood.”

“What?” Kaden gapes while everyone else's eyes become stricken with horror.

I grin at their reactions. “Yep. A deal with the devil always requires a price to be paid. And the wife was desperate enough to sacrifice the person she had sworn to love till death do them apart. Which, I guess, she sort of did if you look at it one way.”

Layla scooches closer to Kaden, if that is even possible with how close their bodies are already squashed together like conjured twins.

“So she calls her husband downstairs. When he enters this same living room, she comes from behind him and strikes him in the head. And when he wakes up, he’s bound hand and foot, sitting in the middle of a triangle which his wife had drawn. A hundred candles mark the three sides. He begs. Grovels for his life. Cries. Even pees his pants a little."

I laugh, a deep rumble in sync with the non-stop thunder. "But the wife’s resolve doesn't waver. So she grabs him by his hair, slits his throat, and collects his blood into a wooden bowl."

My friends' faces contort into disgust. Lucas clears his throat. “Once she’s gotten every last drop, she picks up the bowl and–”

Horror covers Layla's pale face. “No no… don’t say it.”

“And drinks her husband’s blood. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.”

“What the hell…” Kaden groans, shifting as he places both feet on the floor.

The rush from seeing them all scared, disgusted, and horrified flows through my veins like heroin. And the night is only starting.

I resume. "After she drinks all of his blood, she cuts off his head and stitches a smile on his face, stretching his lips from ear to ear. She lays it in the middle of the circle and finishes the ritual. The very next day, she receives her first offer from a theater."

"Well... Good for her, right?" Madeleine's voice cracks at the end.

Layla nudges her in the shoulder. "Why would you even--"

"Guys, come on, you can argue later on about this." If you'll still alive. "This went on for over a year. Until the woman’s sister suddenly pops into town for a surprise visit. But when she walks into the house, she sees her sister laying right here-” I point toward the glass coffee table with the scattered empty paper plates on top. “- in the same exact spot where she had murdered her husband for fame. Her intestines were spread out in a pentagram and her mouth has been stitched into the same smile that her husband had.”

I point toward the stone chimney, the fire devouring the woods below it. “And above this mantle? Were drawn the words “The Price Must Be Paid” in her own blood.” I lower my voice. “Because the devil always makes sure you face the consequences of your actions. And rumor has it, the woman’s spirit prowls this house every Hallow’s Eve, acting out her wrath on any poor soul who sets foot inside.”

Deafening thunder crashes through the eerie silence as lightning strikes right outside one of the windows at the same time. Everybody screams as both Lucas and Layla leap up from the couch.

“Every human being on this planet is capable of being driven to extremes when they really want something, whether it's fame, a place to live, or just money. So always, always pay close attention to those you surround yourself with, because you never know. One day, they just might gut you like an animal.”

Everyone exchanges glances. "Well, not all human beings. Just the... ones who are already born with a monster inside of them," Madéleine says.

I incline my head. "I suppose."

“Wait, what about the dead husband?” she asks between deep breaths.

“Oh, the wife filed a missing person’s report, but they declared him a cold case pretty quickly.”

Madéleine shivers, rubbing her hands along her arms. “Well, I’m definitely having nightmares tonight.”

Kaden scoffs. “Not me. I’m going to sleep like a baby.”

“Really?” I point toward the dark stain on his paints.

Everybody laughs, including Layla, lightening up the tension. Kaden reddens as he covers his crotch. “Shut up, okay? I have a weak bladder.” He starts walking toward the front door. "Lets just get out of here, okay?"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the dim lights flicker several times before dying, leaving the whole house in complete darkness. The fire, however, continues to burn bright, even more than before. But chills travel down my spine when faint voices whisper through the air. My breathing halts as I strain to hear them.

Rain beats down on the house like a monsoon as branches knock at the windows like a thousand nails. The wind howls, until it sounds like a pack of wolves signaling each other that a prey is nearby.

"I guess the house wants us to stay," I say. "We wouldn't be able to go out anywhere without getting electrocuted or smashed under a tree or something anyway."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Madéleine asks as Kaden stomps back into the living like an angry toddler.

"Staying here for the night."

Kaden's scowling face reveals itself under the light from the fire. "Fuck n--"

"Babe, we don't have a choice. I'd rather stay here then get caught out in the storm." Layla wraps her arms around him from behind.

"No, I--" Layla looks at him, emitting a frustrated groan from him. "Okay fine. But we're checking the house first."

I clap my hands. "Alright, while you guys roam the first floor, Lucas and I will check upstairs."

Before anyone could retort, I grab Lucas's hand and lead him to the stairs, our running footsteps thudding on each step throughout the empty house. Lightning continues to flash through the windows, our long shadows following us on the walls like chasing demons.

Good thing I already explored the house before several times, so I locate the bedroom right away. As soon as I open the door, Lucas grabs me by the waist. I squeal as he throws us both on the bed with me on top of him.

With a giggle, I bend down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in hunger. His tongue slips in as my hands fumble with his belt. Straddling him, I lean back and grin at his stupidly adorable face. He doesn't even know what's in store for him, poor thing.

I’m about to pull my shirt over my head when I hear it again. Different voices whispering through the air. They prickle my mind like tiny needles as a heavy, unsettling feeling like thick fog consumes my chest.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Lucas asks.

I blink at him, unable to answer. He opens his mouth to ask again when a scream pierces the air.

“What the hell was that?” He breathes, terror striking his blue eyes like whirlpools.

Then another scream, and another, before silence devours the air. I know who that was. Layla. Shit, is she--?

A dull, acute pain shoots through my chest. I jerk forward. Glancing down, I watch as a deathly gray hand protrudes from my chest covered in black, web-like cracks. Blood, my blood spurts onto a screaming, struggling Lucas, painting him a dark red.

Then the pain intensifies as the coils of freezing darkness invade every inch of my body, threading into my veins like shadowy wisps. I wheeze out a gasp, the raging storm and crashing thunder matching the fury of scorching lava melting the icy sensation as my body welcomes it.

Hot liquid faintly reeking of copper flows down my face as I pin down the struggling dummy underneath me with my bodyweight. And glancing up at the mirror above the headboard with red splotches blocking my vision, I catch sight of a disfigured face behind me belonging to... fuck...

Layla. Her lips are stitched into a smile spreading from ear to ear. Black blood flows in tiny streams from between the threads. Cracking sounds join the shrieking storm as her head violently jerks to the right, her inky eyes staring right at me.

I smile as I choke out a laugh, blood splattering onto the glass.

Well... Fuck me dead. Kaden was supposed to be first.

Chapter 2

“Lay? What the fuck?” Kaden’s voice yells out from the door.

Layla yanks her hand out of my chest. I fall on the edge of the bed, rolling into my side as my hand grips the covers. Dark red blood pools around me. Wheezing gasps escape me as the gaping hole starts to heal itself. Phase One of the plan is complete. Now...

Phase Two.

Lucas shakes my shoulder, yelling my name, only for me to stare back at him unblinking. Playing possum is just for funsies, since freaking him out is what I also want. He then tries to scramble off the bed when he freezes like a statue as Layla lets out a piercing shriek and lunges at Kaden.

Okay, so the order in which they turn/die doesn't actually matter that much as long as Lucas is the last one, saved for me. I watch as Layla lifts Kaden from the ground with her hand wrapped around his throat.

His feet kick in the air, choking sounds mixing well together with the storm. The lightning flashes illuminate his gray, bulging face. His hands swipe at hers.  Black cracks already start to spread up his neck, weaving toward his jaw like snakes when Layla flings him behind her. He crashes into the wall, sending old picture frames smashing on the ground.

Lucas’s face goes into paralyzed horror. Layla reaches Kaden in a blur, who continues to choke out dark blood. Black threads begin to sew into his mouth. Agonizing screams pour out of him as he falls forward on his knees. His hands, nails claw at his face, streams of blood cascading down his skin.

Layla stands in front of him, her head snapping to the side. Lucas squirms beside me, panicked sobs sending his body into trembling mode. Watching his reactions as Kaden finally sports a matching stitched smile as his girlfriend, it is now my cue to rise up. From the "dead".

So, slowly, I sit up and, with a wide smile, turn toward his fear stricken face. “Hello, Lucas.”

That tips him over the edge. “Mila? What the hell is going –”

Kaden grabs his wrist with a hiss, his face a grayish, white color with black veins flowing through his skin. Lucas yelps and tries to pry his hand away, but fails as I swing my leg over him and once again pin him down with my bodyweight. He struggles, pushing me away, but he's not escaping me. Especially with my demon helpers.

“Shh, stop moving baby. You're only going to make the process harder.”

“What– what process??” he gasps out, eyes wide with terror. “And how… are you… alive?”

I laugh. “Oh, I'm not exactly alive. Although, I'm not dead either so I'm somewhere in between. Anyway, that's not important and not your concern.”

Hot liquid kisses my cheeks. I wipe my index finger against it and bring it in front of me. Dark red covers the tip.

“Oh… will you look at that…” Bringing it to my mouth, I lick it off. “Mmmm. Blood.” I grin.

His eyes widen in terror. “What are you–”

“Shh.” I press my finger against his mouth. “Madéleine!” I call out in a singsong voice. A bright giggle comes from behind me as she appears beside me. She hands me the knife from the kitchen, the blade glinting inconsistently from the lightning outside as rain torrents against the roof.

Lucas tries to get up, but he’s held back by the two pairs of cracked, gnarly hands with blackened veins. Kaden and Layla stand in place with their disfigured bodies and stitched smiles.

“What’s going on, Mila? What are you doing?” He struggles. “Shit, are you even Mila?”

I cackle. “Of course I am, baby. And you’ve been a very bad boy.” I glide the tip of the blade along his cheek, leaving behind a trail of blood trickling down.

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

I cock my head at him. “Don’t you remember? November 13th.”

A cloud of realization casts a dark shadow over his face. “That… that was an accident…” he whispers.

I scoff. “An accident is when you ‘accidentally’ spill water over the floor . Abandoning my little brother so you can go fuck some girl is not ‘an accident’.”

“Mila… please… I thought you–”

“You thought what, huh? That I would forgive you?” I throw my head back and laugh. “Well, you thought wrong. And now… you’re going to pay the price. And, you're my ticket to an even bigger goal.”

Pure, animalistic terror clouds his eyes. “ No. Mila. I... but he's alive–”

"And in a wheelchair for life. But that's not the point. See, you're just a sacrifice. I have a bigger agenda than your puny, insignificant ass."

I hover my hand over his face. Inky wisps of threads float from my skin, penetrating his mouth as they move in a sewing motion. His body battles me, eyes widening in animalistic terror. Piercing screams turn muffled as a stitched curve forms from ear to ear.

Once his mouth is all stitched up with fresh blood seeping through and sliding down his chin, I rotate the knife in my hand and glide my finger along the blade. I watch as his terrified eyes dart from the weapon and to me, muffled screams trying desperately to crawl through the stitches in vain.

Madeline’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Are you sure about this, Mila?”

I glance at her and nod once. “I am. This is what he wants in exchange. With this power, as soon as I'm inside that place, I'll finally get my ultimate revenge. That's all I ever wanted.”

Looking back at Lucas, I bring the blade to his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing against it as his veins bulge with his attempts to struggle.

“Smile for me, baby.” And with one movement, I slice open his jugular. Dark red blood sputters upward like a broken fire hydrant, drenching my face in hot, thick liquid as the strong smell of iron penetrates my nostrils.

I inhale deeply as I lick some of the blood that lands in my mouth, the warm coppery taste of my dead boyfriend so fucking delicious on my tongue.

I take a deep breath. It's time for the final phase.

Phase Three.

Chapter 3

“Do you have any regrets?”

Straightening my posture, I stop chewing my gum and stare at her. Nothing but the hum of the generator and the occasional scream and hysterical laughter echoing through the halls outside this little room penetrate the deathly stillness in the air.

"What?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

"Regrets, Mila." She taps the end of the pen against the paper, the sound testing my nerves. "Have you experienced any regrets for murdering your friends?"

I take a shaky deep breath. “What do you think?” my voice cracks at the end. “I… I killed my boyfriend,” I whisper, the edges of my eyes filling with hot moisture. “I… fucking killed him and his two friends.” Tears begin to stream down my cheeks. “Do you think I would have turned myself in if I didn't have any regrets? I..."

I burst into sobs, burying my wet face into my hands. My body trembles uncontrollably, shoulders shaking up and down as salt and snot creep into my mouth.

The couch before me shifts slightly. “I've worked here as the psychiatrist for over five years, and this might be the best performance I've witnessed by far.”

“What?” I choke out, glancing at her through blurry vision. “You … you actually think I'm lying?”

She raises an eyebrow. “People who actually have regrets don't try to convince a person by saying ‘Would I have done this or that if I wasn't’, more so in situations such as these.”

Blinking away my tears, I stare back at her in disbelief. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across my face. “I see you're good at your job.” A laugh rumbles out of me, echoing through the empty room.

Her face remains unmoving as she tucks a few strands of chestnut hair behind her ear. “The police found your boyfriend's body torn apart into unrecognizable pieces, some of him missing. You told them that coyotes had feasted on it, and you even managed to have one or two at the site when the bodies were discovered. How did you manage to achieve that?”

I grin. “Well, coyotes love the smell of freshly mutilated bodies. It was also the matter of puppeteering their minds and bringing them there.”

Curiosity flutters over her. "How so?"

"You really think I'll tell you?" I sigh, shaking my head. "This information is confidential. And you, Dr. Ryan, have not earned my trust yet, now have you?"

"I suppose so." She scribbles in her pad.

"What is your backstory, Dr. Ryan?”

She frowns. “I'm sorry?”

“You must have quite a story to be working in a place like this. Dealing with mentally insane patients who can kill you any chance they get.”

She shrugs. “I've been fascinated by the workings of the human mind since a young age. Specifically those who are driven to the brinks of desperation or sanity to commit despicable acts.”

“But why this place? This filthy hospital where the death toll is skyrocketing through the roof each year?”

Something shifts in the air. Silence as still as death spreads through the room until the buzzing of the fly shatters it. It lands on the table in front of Dr. Ryan, whose eyes don't divert from mine when she leans forward.

“Why these questions, hmm?” she asks, her tone slightly darker than before.

My cheek twitches. “I have two words. July 7th.”

A ripple of realization distorts her face. “Ah, the state fair.” The corners of her mouth slowly creep up into a malevolent grin. “Oh wait … I killed your mommy, didn't I?”

A slow chuckle escapes her. “I believe she was my thirteenth victim that day.”

“Why did you do it?” I ask calmly.

She exhales loudly. "Collapsing the Ferris wheel was my best way of ensuring my dead son will get his vengeance." She laughs ruefully. "Those fuckers didn't stop when I asked them to. And now? My son is dead. Your mother? Just collateral damage."

I uncross my legs and lean forward. "Collateral damage?" I hiss, anger coursing through me like a lethal waterfall.

Not now, Mila. Wait just a little longer.

Dr. Ryan taps the end of the pen against the paper, the very sound as loud as a jackhammer in my mind. "Now, Mila, you have murdered your friends so that what, you could fulfill your revenge plan on me? Are you able to recognize the hypocrisy behind that?"

"You made me do all of that!" I clench my fists. "You made me kill my friends! If you weren't a fucking psycho bitch who took away my mother for some revenge plan--"

"The same way you've taken away a son and two daughters from someone else," she tuts.

"I had a reason."

"So did I." She cocks her head. "What was your plan? To kill me and get away with it?  Surely you are aware that this place has cameras everywhere."

This time, I laugh. "I don't fucking care what happens to me. I'm already dead and gone. Or perhaps I will once I'm done with you."

Curiosity shadows her face. "How so?"

"Like this," I growl. And lunge at her over the table.

Red, deafening sirens wail through the entire building. I pin Dr. Ryan on the couch, my hands around her neck as she grins up at me. Footsteps thunder down the hallway outside. Reaching out my hand toward the door, inky threads shoot out and snake to the steel frame. They begin to weave a black barrier sealing it.

People are shouting outside as poundings appear behind the sealed door. It doesn't so much as budge a little. But thanks to my distraction, Dr. Ryan takes advantage of it.

She punches me, my head veering violently to the side. Blood flies out like a fountain sprout, decorating the white walls in splatters of dark red. Even in my new form, my brain still registers pain. And man, that fucking hurt.

But then my body is lifted in the air. Disgusting hand grasp my ass and neck. Fuck, is this bitch lifting me? What the hell-

I'm catapulted across the room, crashing into the walls. Pain courses through my body like burning flames, consuming every vein. Glancing up, Dr. Ryan is watching me with her head tilted to the side, and amused glint in her eyes.

This bitch might be even more psychotic than I thought and was led to believe. I groan as I climb onto my knees, then one foot, and finally on both, cement dust crumbling from my clothes. 

"Well, Mila?" she asks, her honeyed voice flowing through the room. Outside, the sirens continue to blare while the thuds against the door are non-stop. "Surely you can do better than that. You went through so much trouble to find me. Have you weakened, sweetheart?"

With a snarl, I tackle her, sending us both crashing onto the table. Glass smashes into a million pieces, the sound piercing in the small room as some of the shards bite into my like small little teeth. But I don't stop there.

Pinning Dr. Ryan under me, I land punch after punch, ignoring the massive shard lodged in my hand. Blood splatters on the white walls and carpeting, decorating them in my favorite color: dark red. Each crunch crackles in the air, tickling my senses in a way that leaves me craving for more. To show this bitch that she can't escape her conse--

I gasp, jerking forward when an acute pain rips through my stomach. She pushes me off her, forcing me to roll onto my back in the scattered pieces of broken glass and wood. Glancing down, dark red blood pours out of my center. I wheeze for air when Dr. Ryan climbs on top of me.

And presses her knee into the wound.

A scream of agony escapes my mouth. Despite making a deal with the devil and acquiring powers, my pain tolerance has been decreasing the closer I approach the deadline. The one where I'm supposed to complete my desires.

Dr. Ryan's hands wrap around my throat, her thumbs pressing into my jugular. Her eyes carry the sadistic look of a serial killer. She grins, showcasing her rows of bloodstained teeth, courtesy of me. The door is beginning to cave in to the persistent forces.

"You're such a brave little girl," she says. "Being capable of asking the devil for help, killing your three friends, and all to gain access to me." She leans down, her filthy mouth near my ear. "And yet, you failed, you pathetic whore," she whispers. "Watching you struggle under me." She traces the tip of her tongue along my skin, leaving behind a trail of disgusting slime like a snail. "Just like your mother."

"My-- my mother?" I gasp out. I keep my hands on the ground, letting them recuperate.

All of this, the pain, the choking, the struggling, the show of weakness, all of it is to distract her from what I'm about to do. 

Dr. Ryan's smile spreads into a beacon of malevolence.
"She was still alive when the pole lodged into her chest. So I made sure she died."

Hot and icy chills flow through my veins, rage joining them as her words boil an overflowing kettle of hate and need for revenge inside of me.

I slowly grin, then laugh. Confusion flicker over her face, combined with her grip on me loosening. "Then I'll take the one thing you never had."

Her eyes widen in shocked pain. Blood trickles out of her mouth, dripping onto my face as I stare at her without a single blink. My hand wraps around her pulsating heart, each vibration against my skin sending thrills down my whole body.

And I yank out her heart. Acceptance of her fate floods her face as her body goes taut. I shove her off me, the shards cracking when she lands beside me. Glass pieces lodge into my hand as I use it to propel myself up and stand over the dying creature before me.

Black threads float out of my palm as they reach her and begin weaving in and out of her mouth, stretching her lips upward. She tries to scream, agonizing pain reflecting in her wide eyes. But she can't as blood spurts out of the gaping hole in her chest at her attempts.

I watch with satisfaction as I squeeze her heart, hot, sticky blood seeping between my fingers. Once I compress it into a small, shriveled up ball, I throw it on her. Her body jerks one final time before settling.

That's when I collapse myself, the sharp glass cutting into my back. The door groans, the barrier weakening along with me. I welcome the darkness invading my veins.

I got my revenge.

Total word count: 4967