HIS TALL FRAME WALKED IN THE OMINOUS ROOM, EACH STEP
CREAKING BENEATH HIM.

The fog combined with the sight of his own breath sent chills up his spine, making him feeling obliged to scan every corner of the room. He knew he had to walk forward, despite the approaching steps of the disguised figures.

This was the haunted house he had been looking forward to all year. It's line always exceeded beyond capacity, and he never managed to get a spot. But this time was different. He was here.

The hallways rolled on, and from each turn, he clenched his fist harder. The jump scares were getting worse, more intense, and louder. Despite being a very anxious person, this was practically his job.

He had to get used to the most abnormal situations; he had to be prepared for the unexpected. What was a better place to do that than here?

So by the time the haunted house was over, he was finally ready for the finale scare. Little did he know it'd come from behind him, nearly taking out his legs.

The woman quickly rose to her feet from the attack and screamed at him, practically breaking his ear drums.

He had to admit, she had got him pretty good.

"Great job," he mumbled toward her. Using his deep voice to his advantage, she was taken back this time.

"What?" the brunette broke character, gazing at his masked face.

"I said, good job."

"Your...is that your natural voice?" she asked him, knowing the next group of people wouldn't be coming until they had sanitized the entire place like they did each round.

"Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"No, it's hot. Stick around, my shift ends in..." she peaked at her phone quickly, realizing any second the mystery man would be forced out, "seven minutes."

It was unlikely that he stayed around, but a girl could try. It was rare that she broke character. His voice was just...it sounded fake.

While she helped finish getting the spooky path sanitized once more, her shift finished, and she headed to the back room to change and grab her stuff. As always, the fake blood was the hardest to removed from her face. It was nearly superglue.

Her costume was fairly simply. A torn and bloodied jumpsuit, rather baggy, along with a fake machete and pigtails. They always told her to add more blood and make her pigtails look more "ratty," so the preparation slowly took longer and longer.

In seconds, her jumpsuit was off and in her duffle bag, and her hair was down. There were still scabs of the dried fake blood on her neck, but she didn't mind. Glancing once in the mirror, she adjusted the leggings and threw on the sweatshirt.

Good enough.

As she exited the haunted house from the back, her combat boots cracked on the frozen leaves, and she looked around for any sign of the man she had just heard. She remembered him being tall, in all black.

How generic. Finding him shouldn't be hard at all, she thought, staring at the crowd of masked groups.

Instead, he found her.

"Why'd you tell me to stick around?"

The voice could be heard three miles away, it was so low pitched. He had been waiting by the back door, figuring that's where employees left. The black mask was still on his face.

"I had to make sure you weren't bluffing about your voice! Now c'mon, let's go to dinner. I'm starving."

"Wait, wait, wait. We just met and you're already comfortable taking me to dinner? What if I'm a murderer?" he questioned her, hesitant to follow her.

"You think I work at a haunted house and come out a pussy? I have a concealed carry in my car, babe. You try suspicious shit, and I'll blow your head off. Anyway, how does pizza sound?"

He chuckled, not being able to tell if he was scared or slightly aroused by her cockiness. Nevertheless, he followed her. Her car was sleek, a real classic.

"Did you renovate this or something? I didn't think they still made these. Plymouth Barracuda, right?"

"Yep. What can I say? I like muscle cars," she smirked, hopping in and revving the engine. It roared like a lion hunting for prey, music to both of their ears.

"I never caught your name," he mumbled.

"Eden. Eden Everglade. You?"

"Corpse."

Her eyes widened, "What?"

"Yeah, that's my name. Nickname, but its what I prefer. You heard it somewhere?" he asked. Silently, he hoped and prayed she didn't know of his rise to fame.

"No, it's just a dope name. Am I supposed to know it?" she muttered, pulling out of the crowded parking lot.

"Not at all. So you are religious, or did your parents just think it was a nice name?" he inquired, glancing out the window and to her.

It was still pitch black outside, so even with the headlights, he had yet to get a good view of her, and vice versa.

"Thought it was a cool name. They were both stoners, and picked the name when they were high. I guess that's what you get with two crazy lesbians," Eden answered, noticing the rings on his hand. And the tattoos. And the veins. God, he had nice hands.

"You're very interesting, you know that?" he asked her, studying the small decorations around the vintage car.

"Cool is my middle name," she winked at him. "It's actually Tyler, but whatever."

. . .

The drive continued, and with a few awkward gaps of silence, they finally arrived at the small dive. It was a local business, and Eden was a regular. As soon as they walked in, the smell of fresh dough and sauce hit their noses.

"Damn, it smells good," Corpse uttered, keeping the door open for her. The scent was so strong it breezed right through his mask.

She thanked him with a nod. "I know, right?"

Little did she know, his anxiety was going crazy. His identity was not something he took lightly, even if Eden claimed to know nothing about his fame. Ideas stumbled around his brain, thinking of how he could truly test the waters to see if she knew who he was.

"So are you active on social media?" Corpse asked while they waited in line, pulling out his phone as if to get her Instagram or whatnot.

"Actually, no. I don't have many friends, and I like it that way. You either get my number or nothing at all," she explained, gently putting his hand back down. They were basically the same height, with her being 5'9" and him about 5'10".

"Good to know," he said, hushed. Since his voice was the factor that made him recognizable in the first place, he made sure it wasn't too loud.

"Your hearts beating fast. Am I getting you that riled up, cowboy?" she teased, feeling the pulse on his wrist.

"You wish," he scoffed. "Actually, I have really bad anxiety."

She nodded, showing concern in her eyes and under the mask.

"Understandable. You know, you really didn't have to come. I'm actually quite surprised you did."

"I was hungry, and I didn't feel like being antisocial. For once."

Her laugh was bright, filling up the atmosphere with joy as they stepped up to order.

"I'm gonna order, you go find us a table," she demanded.

"I'll pay you back later," he whispered before walking away, following her orders.

She rolled her eyes, but continued to order her usual meal. Only this time, she asked for a larger size in the pizza. Big enough for two.

They told her it'd be out shortly, so she walked around until she found the messy haired man. The booth he got was secluded in the corner, shielding them from the busier center of the room.

"I still can't believe your car. It's sick," he complimented her, taking the cup of water from her hands.

She slid into the seat across from him, "Yeah, she took some saving up. I got her off the side of the road, but renovations took around forty grand."

While she talked on about her car, he slid his mask off, taking a sip from the water. Like always, showing his face in public somehow made him feel...exposed. Almost as if he was doing something wrong. He wasn't, of course, it was just fear.

"So then by the time I got the final layer of the sparkly shit, I knew I was done spending," Eden concluded the story, finally taking a gulp of her own water.

"I mean, I can tell you're proud of her. What's the name, if you have one?" he pondered. The lighting complimented her perfectly, reflecting off her brunette hair and highlighting the two bleached strands around her face.

"Her name is Marielle. You know, you are the first person I have ever met you hasn't thought I was unbelievably stupid for naming my car. I thought it was a normal thing!"

"Yeah, my car's name is Vincent. It should definitely be normalized," Corpse grinned at her.

"What type?"

"BMW 6 series. All black. Including the tires and the rims."

Just as she did, he also took pride in his car. His belongings were something he always made sure he only had if they were perfect for him. Not one purchase was made unless he loved it.

"Damn, rich boy. What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"

He froze. The question he had been dreading.

"It's complicated. I do jobs online," he explained.

Her head bobbed to the side, showing confusion, but upon seeing the imploring look in his eyes, she decided to drop the topic.

"Sounds fun. As for me, my jobs vary."

He hummed, silently asking her to continue.

"Well, my moms both work for UPS. They met at community college and are now full time mechanics. So they pay for my apartment, but depending on the time of the year, I pay for my gas and shit. Like right now, I work at haunted houses."

"And where do you work in the summer?" he asked her. She cringed.

"You really wanna know?"

"That's why I asked, princess."

"Ok. Easy. I either go full stripper mode or I'm a lifeguard," she smirked, and a blush appeared on his pale cheeks.

"In the winter I find a sugar daddy. I don't like working. In the spring, I usually work at the bookstore I live above."

"You are genuinely one of the coolest people I have ever met. I mean...every sentence that comes out of your mouth is unexpected," he said, propping his head up on his left palm.

She winked at him, the waitress appearing at the table.

"Here's your pizza. If you need anything else, I'm here. Enjoy!"

The cheesy wonder was exactly what the duo needed, and while they dove in, the questions became getting more personal.

"So, judging by your attitude...you're a Leo," she guessed, biting into a slice.

Corpse gasped, "How the hell did you know?"

"A Leo can always tell who else is one of them."

"Ah, I see. July or August birthday?"

"I'm July 27th, you?"

"August 8th," he answered.

"Hmm, good to know. So your last birthday you turned..."

"23."

"You've got me beat. I'm 22." He laughed a little bit between his bites, savoring the taste.

"I'm guessing you're in college?"

She chuckled, "You wish. I never planned on it. School isn't for me. Never has been, never will be."

"I feel that. I stopped going when I was twelve," he remarked. Her eyes widened.

"No way! Damn, I have mad respect for you," Eden beamed. He nodded, confirming he wasn't lying.

While the conversation continued, they realized just how odd the experience was. In just less than an hour, they had met, hung out, and gotten to know each other. Would they end up being friends? Or would it end up being a one night stand?

Eden didn't know. Frankly, she didn't care. Whatever happened to her was the universe's choice, nothing more, nothing less.

. . .

chapter one for you sexy mofos!
hope you enjoy it! if not...girl i
don't know what to tell you😳

i'm trying to keep info about him
limited because we don't know much
about his appearance, so most of
the things i say are pure guesses.
hope you understand!!

have a great rest of you day. drink
water if you haven't already<3