Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

“ W hy are you on the floor screaming?” Marissa snickers, startling me.

I whip around, my heart slamming against my ribs. “What?” My voice cracks with panic. “Where did you come from?” I scramble to my feet, eyes darting around, still searching for the cloaked figure. It was here. I know it was real. I felt it. Where the hell did it go?

Marissa leans casually against the wall, a cruel smile stretching across her face. “Oh, come on. Are you seriously scared?” Her voice oozes with amusement, each word sharp and mocking. Fuck, I hate her .

A soft, sinister giggle echoes down the passageway, sending a shiver racing up my spine. “Did you hear that?” I whisper, the sound prickling the hairs on the nape of my neck and spreading like icy claws across my shoulders.

Marissa rolls her eyes dramatically and curls her lips into a mocking pout. She leans in close and in a high-pitched, exaggerated baby voice, simpers, “Aww, did little baby Tori hear something spooky-wooky in the big scary escape room we’re all in?” Her eyes gleam with malicious delight. “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s just a game.” Her voice drips with venom, each word a sharp, mocking lilt that feels like a physical slap.

I clutch at my chest, my heart pounding so violently it feels like it’s trying to escape through my throat. “No, really, something was just here with me,” I insist, panting.

Marissa leans closer, her smirk widening as she sniffs at me. “Oh, my God. You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

My heart feels as though it’s pounding at the base of my throat, uncomfortably hard. This is not just a game . I know it’s not. I know that was real. I need to get out of here. “Where did you just come from? There was no way out of here a minute ago.”

“There’s a door right there, moron.” Marissa points at the wall. I see nothing but a solid wall. Sweat drips down my back. Am I losing my mind?

“You really are pathetic, you know that?” She steps to the side and half her body vanishes. “See? It’s a hallway that blends into the stone.” She shakes her head. “You’d be able to see it if you weren’t drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” Or not nearly enough as I should be. I push past her into the hidden hallway. Instantly I feel like a fool. Why didn’t I notice this before? Is this where that thing went?

I hurry through the recessed hallway and squeeze through a narrow archway into a blaringly bright space.

What the ever-loving fuck is this?

The room sprawled out before me is a grotesque parody of a high school science lab. A long, black lab counter is cluttered with beakers bubbling with iridescent neon-green liquid, perched precariously on a chaotic metal contraption that looks like it belongs in a mad scientist’s fever dream. Dozens of cabinets line the walls, their fronts a chaotic mix of clear and piss-colored frosted panels. Behind them, jars filled with grotesque mock body parts—limbs, organs, and other vomit- inducing specimens—are arranged like trophies. A twenty-first century perversion of Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory.

I swipe my hands down the front of my pants, feeling the grit of dried sweat, and scan the room. “Did you see someone in a long, hooded robe come through here?” I ask.

“No,” she scoffs, picking up an envelope from the counter. “What, did you get a jump scare?”

“Where’s Tessa?” I ask, ignoring her jabs, because fuck her . “I heard her talking in here.”

“She found a clue and left.” She plays with the envelope in her left hand, fanning it around so her engagement ring is at optimal envy-level height for me to see. She notices my eyes catching its shine and smirks.

“How do you get out of here?” I can’t see any doors.

“It’s. An. Escape. Room.” She says the words in staccato, each one dripping with condescension from the high fucking horse she’s sitting on.

My breath catches in my throat as I take in the lab’s eerie surroundings, the grotesque displays make my stomach churn faster. I grit my teeth, pushing the rising panic down. There’s no way that cloaked person could’ve just disappeared—unless it wasn’t a person at all. No, nope, nope, nope. I can’t think about that right now. I need to just focus on getting the hell out of here. “Fine, Marissa. It’s an escape room. So how do we escape?” My voice is tight, frustrated.

Marissa rolls her eyes again. “You figure it out. I’ve got my own clue.” She turns her back to me, dismissing me entirely.

Fucking fucker fuck!

Fine. Ignoring her, I move toward the nearest cabinet, its glass front displaying a horrifyingly realistic disembodied hand, its long, sharp fingernails painted blood-red. At the raw, severed end of the arm, shredded flesh hangs in ragged tatters, drifting and swaying as if caught in an invisible, nauseating current.

“You don’t even have a clue, do you?” Marissa’s mocking voice grates on my nerves.

I ignore her and focus on the cabinets. I spot several small keyholes scattered around the room. “There are keyholes,” I mutter. “There has to be a key.”

Marissa watches me with a mixture of amusement and disdain. “Yes, but you need to find the right one that goes to your clue. Honestly, how much did you drink today? This,” she wags her finger at me, “this is why we never call you anymore to hang out. You drink too much and it’s embarrassing. No one wants to have to take care of you all the time.”

I refuse to rise to her bait and continue searching for a key—any fucking key to open whatever it takes to get the hell out of here. Near the bubbling beakers, a small drawer catches my eye. I yank it open and find a set of rusty old keys. Thank God! “Found them,” I whisper, grabbing the keys and rushing to the nearest keyhole.

I fumble with the keys, my fingers slick with sweat. Marissa’s voice cuts through the air in a screech, “You can’t just take the keys! You have to follow the clues!”

She slaps the keys out of my hands, and I stumble back, stunned. She slapped me! Anger flares up in me, hot and immediate. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout. “I need to get out of here!” The keys scatter across the floor.

Marissa’s eyes narrow. “Oh, poor Tori needs something. How about a twelve-step program?”

My fists clench so tightly that my nails dig into my palms. “This isn’t a game, Marissa. Something is seriously wrong here.”

“Well, you can’t always get what you want,” she sneers. “It can’t always be about you.”

Ignoring her, I drop to my knees, scrambling to pick up the scattered keys. I try one in the nearest keyhole, my hands trembling. It doesn’t fit.

“You’re cheating,” she growls, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re a liar and a cheater and a drunk.”

I push the key into another keyhole, my heart pounding in my ears. With a click, the cabinet door swings open, revealing a twisted, grotesque array of body parts preserved in jars. The sight makes bile rise in my throat, but I swallow it back and slam the cabinet closed, the sound bangs like a gunshot.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Marissa demands, stepping in front of me, her face twisted with rage.

I pause, dragging my eyes up to meet hers. “What would you like me to say?”

Her bark of laughter is cold. “Why don’t you start with why you lie so fucking much?”

I move past her, looking for another keyhole. My throat is tight, and I can barely breathe. I can’t talk—there’s too much pressure on my chest, it’s unbearable—whatever that thing was in the hallway back there—it did something. I need to get out of here, now . Now . NOW .

Marissa grabs my wrist and yanks me back. “No, really, Tori. I want to know.”

I turn to face her again, cringing, my body folding into itself. I’m a star about to implode, pressure building and building. I try to step back, but her grip is iron. She’s too close—in my face. Angry. Seething. “Show me the video!” she screams, spittle flying from her mouth. She looks like a rabid animal, frothing at the mouth. Someone should put her down.

She’s squeezing my wrist painfully and I’m pulling as hard as I can to break free, but I can’t shake her off. She’s stronger than me, something I would have never suspected, or maybe she’s right and I’ve drunk too much, my strength all gone liquid.

Panic rises in my chest. I twist and turn, trying to wrench my arm from her grasp, but she holds on tight, her nails digging into my skin.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me the truth!” Marissa’s voice is a raw, guttural snarl. Part of me is in total shock. I’ve never seen her like this, she’s never laid a hand on me like this. But this place, I think, this place—it’s doing something to us.

Slowly, I pull my phone out of its hidden pocket. She drops her grip of me instantly, watching with tight little fists. I open my doorbell camera app, scroll to my saved videos. I shift my weight, leaning heavily on the counter, knees going rubbery. The screen is blank. The video gone.

“It’s gone,” I whisper.

“I knew it,” she snaps, clapping her hands with each word. “I knew it, the way you called him all the time in the beginning, leaving your drunk messages on his voicemail. You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?”

The room spins around me, sways like water. A severed head in a clear vat of milky water leers at me with lifeless eyes. I feel like I’m suffocating, the air too thick and heavy to fit through my airways. I never left him drunk messages. Did I?

Marissa is laughing, mouth open, head back, full-body laughing at me. “You know he only fucked you because of a bet, right?” She pauses, tilting her head in mock contemplation. “Maybe Hayes lost a bet this weekend, maybe that’s why?—”

“When you sleep at his place, Marissa, do you think about how many times he fucked me on that bed? On his kitchen table, me spread out over those fancy red placemats he uses.”

“Shut up. I win. I’m the one he’s marrying.”

“Congratulations on my sloppy seconds, hope you have a long wonderful life together,” I say, moving around her to try another key in a different lock.

“You know I’m the one who told Professor Knight’s wife about you.” She tosses the words at me like a grenade, and my legs give out as I implode.