Chapter 15

The room looked like it had once been a living room, but it was so consumed by dust and neglect that I couldn’t say for sure. There was no sofa or armchair, but amid the streaks of dirt on the floor, right in front of a window revealing the dense forest that wrapped around the back of the park, there was a small table with a television on top. The only sound in the entire house was its torn, static hiss.

I approached and cautiously pressed the red button, only to discover it couldn’t be turned off. From there, I could see the darkness stretching violently beyond the trees outside.

They had chosen the perfect location for the haunted house.

I felt like an idiot for coming in, but now that I was here, the best thing to do was move forward and find the exit.

On the other side of the room, an open door led the way, so I stepped through it.

I entered the house’s kitchen, already convinced that they had fired all the killer clowns and deformed demons.

This was what I got for spending twenty dollars at a rundown amusement park.

"Coraline."

I turned quickly at the sound of my name.

The kitchen was empty, a table set for several people, with food on the plates that looked rotten. I didn’t keep looking at the chunks of meat falling apart on the plates, even though I knew it was all staged. Our minds have a terrible power to make the most unreal things feel real.

There was only one other exit besides the one I had come through—a door leading to a dark hallway with no sign of anyone inside.

My pounding heart begged me not to go that way, but it was highly likely that I would find the exit by taking the scariest paths.

That was part of the experience, wasn’t it?

I had only taken a few steps when I realized someone was behind me. I knew it by the sharp screech of a chair’s legs dragging across the kitchen floor and the subtle shift in the air, as if something had moved.

I took a deep breath, prepared for another jump scare, but that wasn’t what I found when I turned around.

Not just that.

A man was sitting in one of the chairs, but it felt as if he occupied the entire room, the house, every single empty space.

He wore a clown mask exactly like the ones the haunted house actors had on at the entrance, but somehow, he was different.

His body was massive, draped in black robes that concealed everything beyond them.

The wide grin carved into his mask stirred up memories of that night.

I took a step back.

He remained still, like a statue, watching me.

I kept walking backward slowly, afraid he might stand up.

His head tilted to one side, and his hands appeared on the table.

They were stained red.

"He’s just a clown from the park," I told myself. "His job is to scare you."

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself at the time, I knew, deep down, that he wasn’t an employee and that he wasn’t there to play.

That man—whose black eyes followed me, stalked me as I backed away, whose presence eclipsed and filled me completely—was there for me.

And I had confirmation of that the moment I turned my back and stepped into the dark hallway because the chair screeched again.

When I looked back, now swallowed by the corridor’s darkness, he was coming toward me.

And I ran, as irrational as it might have seemed.

I ran as if my life depended on it, chasing any sliver of light I could find.

He was behind me—I knew it—and even though I didn’t stop to look, I also knew he was close.

When I reached the end of the hallway, I saw the three doors again and remembered which one I needed to take.

I kept running and only stopped when I found the exit door.

The clowns were all gathered at the entrance, chatting and laughing.

One of them wasn’t wearing a mask, and he was the one who approached me when he saw me.

"Where did you come from?"

I paused to catch my breath.

"I was in the kitchen."

"You were with the last group of visitors—you should’ve come out at least five minutes ago."

He exchanged glances with the others.

"Did you guys forget the girl inside?"

"There was a clown in there," I said. "He came running after me."

The guy without a mask laughed.

"Impossible, sweetheart. There are only six of us working tonight, and look—" He gestured toward his friends. "We’re all here."

"I’m sure of what I saw," I insisted. "He was sitting in the kitchen and came after me when I ran."

The guy frowned.

"Let’s check."

I thought maybe they were messing with me, but there was no trace of humor in their eyes.

The others removed their masks and stared at me strangely, as if they thought I was lying.

Or worse—as if the idea of someone else being in there was really bad.

Suddenly, I was desperate to leave that place.

I waved a quick goodbye and said I must have been confused.

I left the haunted house and, feeling a little shaken, ran straight back to the roller coaster.

When I got there, I found a very irritated Lucy.

"Where were you?!"

"In the haunted house," I said. "Sorry, I should’ve told you I was leaving."

She looked me over.

"Are you okay?"

Lucy stepped closer and took my hand.

"You’re shaking."

I nodded.

"It was just a little scary, that’s all."

"You should avoid things like that, Cora."

"I know."

And I really did.

I thought I could go back to who I was before that night, but what happened had changed me.

I had been partially broken since I saw someone else die, and the truth was—I had no idea what could possibly fix me.