1. Harper Leigh

The lights of New Orleans fell away as the SUV sped down the road, and my heart beat faster the further from the city we got. Tucked inside my jacket sat the small black envelope, which felt like it weighed a million pounds rather than a few ounces. My fingers brushed along its edges, and I took a deep breath.

An icy chill ran through my veins when I found it waiting for me in my mailbox, and the room narrowed for a moment. Even as I ran my finger beneath the envelope's edge to open it, I knew my entire life would change once I saw its contents.

My imagination ran wild as I pulled the small, midnight-colored invitation out. Silver filigree adorned the edges of the textured paper, and I read the text twice to ensure I wasn't hallucinating.

I had jumped when Landry–the guy I had been dating for a little over two years—walked up behind me, putting his hand on my hip and peering over my shoulder. He commented in a playful tone that we should go, especially since three of our best friends had also received invitations. The words from the page were etched in my memory.

Dear Ms. Harper Leigh Dubois:

I formally invite you to a special House of Horrors grand opening. This event is by invitation only.

When: October 31 at 11 PM

Where: The Toussaint Manor

RSVP by texting "yes" to (504) 555-9676

At the very bottom of the invitation, someone wrote in pristine penmanship, "Be ready for the scare of your life."

Despite his reassurances, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. I tried convincing them I couldn't go. You would've thought my excuses were good enough between midterms, a fifteen-page paper, and work. They apparently weren't, and I succumbed to peer pressure.

When I was younger, my parents asked if my friends jumped off a bridge, would I follow them. The House of Horrors proved that I should have answered with a resounding yes.

That was why I sat nestled between the passenger side door and Raymond Hamilton while we sped down a bumpy road. Ray placed his arm around my shoulders, leaning close to me. The scent of his body spray made me queasy. "Don't worry, I'll protect you, Harper."

His hot breath washed over me, and I pressed my body against the door, trying to buy myself even a few inches. I gave him a fake smile, tossing my hair over my shoulder. He'd always made me uncomfortable. "I don't think that's necessary. It's a haunted house. That's not exactly a life or death situation."

He shrugged at me, and his grin widened. "Never know. It might really be haunted. Wouldn't want a ghost to get you."

I shuddered at his words, trying not to think about them. My family was superstitious and believed the veil between worlds was at its thinnest on Halloween. Coupled with my grandmother's adage of nothing good happening after midnight, I felt unsettled.

Part of me wanted to scream at Landry to stop the car, and I would find my way back to New Orleans myself. Surely, Uber could pick me up. Ray's fingers made circles on my shoulder, and I cringed. Why Addie insisted she had to sit in the passenger seat next to Landry was beyond me.

She claimed she needed to discuss a joint economics paper with him on the way but, so far, she hadn't mentioned anything about the project. I watched as her hand lingered on his arm just a little too long, or their gazes would linger. I tried to tell myself that it was simply unfounded jealousy on my part.

Landry had never given me any reason to doubt his loyalty to me. He was attentive and affectionate. He brought me flowers and sent me texts. In most ways, despite our heated arguments, I thought of us as the perfect couple, similar to my parents. Ours was the perfect relationship, one that would stand the test of time.

Adeline and I were friends at face value only, more frenemies than actual friends. And if it were up to me, I would never see Raymond or Conrad again. They were popular on campus, in fraternities, played sports, and were Landry's best friends from childhood, but something about them unsettled me. I only tolerated them for my boyfriend's sake, knowing they were a package deal.

An old-fashioned gas station was positioned on the left-hand side of the road, and the SUV careened into the parking lot before coming to a jarring stop. The gas station was small, painted in a washed-out yellow color with three rusty red and white gas pumps. A worn wooden sign hung over the entrance, warped and illegible.

"Hell yeah," Conrad whooped from the opposite side of the vehicle. "Beer stop."

I rolled my eyes and opened the car door, sliding out. The time on my phone was 10:15, and I was aggravated. Alcohol wasn't necessary for a haunted house, but in true frat boy fashion, everything was a party.

Neon lights caught my eyes, and my body drifted toward them unknowingly. Next to the rickety gas station sat a small house with purple siding—the Mirage. In bright pink, another sign advertised palm readings for twenty-five dollars.

"Where are you going, beautiful?" Landry yelled out, pulling me from my haze.

I waved at him and blew a kiss. "I won't be long. Can you get me a bottle of water?"

Addie laughed, walking backward toward the gas station's entrance. "You know that stuff is fake, right? Astrology, tarot cards, voodoo. They only work if you believe in them."

I ignored her and squared my shoulders, heading into the small shop. A bell chimed over the door as I opened it. My parents wouldn't have approved of my plans for the night. Not only was I out past curfew, but I was also visiting a palm reader. They always quoted scripture at me. "Do not turn to mediums or necromancers; do not seek them out, and so make yourselves unclean by them."

And their take on me going to a haunted house, well, that wouldn't exactly be favorable either.

I had never been more grateful that I was over eighteen and living in student housing for college. It afforded me a level of freedom I never had before.

The shop was dim, and candles sat on every surface, casting shadows on the wall. Mason jars containing various items lined a shelf. Red brick dust, grave dirt, and an assortment of dried herbs. Neat cursive labeled each item. In a small bowl, bones from an animal lay haphazardly. Crystals and stones of every color sat inside a curio.

A pang of sorrow hit me out of nowhere. Viola would have loved the shop. Halloween was her favorite holiday, and she obsessed over anything that dealt with the occult, magic, horror movies, or haunted houses. She would have dragged me to Toussaint Manor while telling Landry to fuck himself. That was just the way she was.

She had been missing for four months, and I tried to hope for the best. We went to a party together over the summer. It was the weekend that we discovered my mother was murdered, and I had gotten the phone call that night. She hadn't responded when I texted her the next day, looking for a distraction. I asked Landry what happened, and he told me Viola had left when everyone else had—nothing seemed out of place.

In twenty-four hours, I lost both my mother and my best friend.

A chill ran down my spine. The shop was unusually cold for that time of the year. I rubbed my arms and continued looking through the small shop's offerings. "Can I help you, child?" a voice asked from behind a gorgeous indigo velvet curtain, and I jumped. I had been so caught up in perusing the store's goods I had forgotten the real reason I had stepped inside.

"I saw you read palms, and I thought it might be fun," I replied, my voice smaller than I liked.

A woman stepped out from behind the curtain, a pipe in her hand. I couldn't determine her age from her appearance. Her skin was flawless, the color of copper, with small freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose and short chestnut hair twisted in tight coils on her head.

"Yes, I do. Come see," she said. She looked young, but her voice didn't quite match her face. It was warm and motherly, somehow ageless, and instantly put me at ease. The woman sat in a crimson velvet chair near a small table. On top sat a deck of cards I didn't recognize and another small bowl of bones.

I obeyed her command to come near, my feet shuffling forward of their own accord. Her hand was cold as she reached for mine, turning it up to glance at my palm. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes glazed over as a single finger traced the lines on my skin like she was caught in a trance.

My breath hitched in my chest when she gasped. Suddenly, the nameless woman let go of me like I had burned her. "You need to go," she stated, her voice suddenly icy. "You have somewhere you need to be."

My eyes stung from the sudden shift in her demeanor, and I stepped back. "I need to pay you still," I said, trying to stall.

She shook her head and pointed to the door. "Pauvre bête. Now, out with you."

I turned on my heel and raced to the exit, pushing it open. The humid night air contrasted the cold interior of the shop, and my feet padded along the cracked concrete to Landry's SUV. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. What had she seen in my palm? Was my future really that bad?

I clipped my seatbelt into place right as Landry and the others returned to the vehicle, joking around with each other. "That's not what your mom said last night," Conrad jabbed as he opened the door.

I wasn't in the mood to deal with them and didn't want to go to Toussaint Manor. For the briefest moments, I'd forgotten why we were even this far from New Orleans. That bubble had vanished, and doubt and anxiety lingered in its stead.

Addie gave me one look and scoffed. "I told you not to go, Harper. You're always so sensitive. What? Did an old woman hurt your feelings? Tell you that you'd die alone because you're still a virgin?"

Landry gave her a look I couldn't decipher. "Shut the fuck up, Adeline. Leave her alone and drink your tequila." He pulled a water bottle from his brown bag and handed it to me. "Ignore whatever the fortune teller told you. I'm sure it's not true."

I wiped at the back of my eyes but said nothing, choosing to focus on the water. That was the thing. I couldn't explain why I was upset. The fortune teller hadn't said anything to me. Not really. "Can you guys take me home?"

The bad feeling from earlier had returned, multiplying. My brain screamed at me I should just go home and hide beneath my blankets. Raymond pulled out a fifth of whiskey next to me and turned the bottle up, making it bubble. He nudged me with his shoulder. "Harper Leigh, you're not going home. Tonight is going to be amazing. You just wait and see."

I pressed my cheek against the cool glass and stared out the window, hoping he was right but knowing he wasn't. On top of being a creep, Ray was an idiot. The engine started, and the car pulled back out onto a highway.

Ten minutes later, at 10:52, the private driveway for the Toussaint Manor came into view. Rusting wrought iron fencing encompassed the estate, but the gates were thrown open. Lightning flashed in the sky, and clouds rolled in, a storm brewing in the distance. Despite the laughter and conversation, I could hear thunder rumbling.

My heart beat faster as we barreled down the road lined by willow trees dripping with Spanish moss. The limbs were contorted, sweeping across the path from age and the wind howling through them. Then they finally gave way, and the mansion came into view. Terror clawed at my stomach. It looked like something that was pulled straight out of my nightmares.

There was no way they would convince me to step foot inside.

The structure was a crumbling relic of days long past. Once upon a time, it had been white, but age and neglect left the paint cracked and graying. The columns lining the porch were covered by ivy, and the windows were cracked, thin web-like veins adorning them. The house seemed to groan and creak from the incoming storm as the weather vane spun wildly.

Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down when Landry opened the door. "This is so fucking cool," he shouted. Everyone exited the vehicle one-by-one until I was the last one sitting, staring at Toussaint Manor as lightning illuminated it.

"Don't be a pussy, Harper," Raymond stated, grabbing my wrist.

Pain lanced up my arm from his pressure on the joint, and I winced. "I don't think this is a good idea," I pleaded with him, hoping at least one person would side with me. My papa would have called me a couillon three times by this point.

Addie glared at me and placed a hand on her hip. "Harper, haunted houses are all fake. They'll probably have some fake blood inside and a few actors wearing clown masks. Besides, don't you have some holy water or something in your purse? Jesus will protect you," she mocked.

I bit down on my bottom lip and clutched my water bottle like an anchor, sliding out of the SUV. Addie was just being a bitch like usual, so I kept my mouth closed.

Everyone assumed I was fervently religious, like my parents, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Sometimes, late at night, I wondered if anyone was truly out there listening to my prayers. Sure, I was a virgin, but that wasn't because I was waiting for marriage. Things just hadn't felt right yet.

Landry walked up to me and put his arm around my shoulders. "Don't listen to her right now, baby. The house just looks creepy as hell."

His touch helped ease at least some of the apprehension that had taken up residence under my skin, and when he laced our fingers, I thought everything would be alright. Fifteen minutes in a haunted house. I could live through anything for fifteen minutes.

We walked together across the lawn, dead grass crunching beneath our shoes. The air was salty from the storm, but it didn't mask the underlying decay of the property. Lightning flashed against the black sky again in quick succession. A fat drop of water landed on my face as we ascended the steps. One gave way beneath my foot, and I stumbled forward before Landry caught me.

A sign stood on an easel next to the front door. "Please place all cell phones and electronic devices in the provided basket." Another thing that I had misgivings about, but one by one, they placed their phones in the small wicker basket lying beside the door. Conrad grinned at us. "You know what this means, right? I bet they have some awesome animatronics!"

I stared at him blankly. I doubted that was what it meant. The kid's pizza joint didn't make me leave my cell phone at the door, and they had tons of animatronics. I pushed all of those thoughts from my head and turned to the house.

The door itself was recently painted crimson, a stark contrast to the rest of the structure. I took a deep breath and turned the handle. The screech of the hinges echoed, drowning out the thunder, and I stepped inside.

The foyer was a long, narrow corridor that looked abandoned, and cobwebs hung in the corners of the vaulted ceiling. Wood paneling, dark from age, covered the walls, and an oak sideboard sat in the corner, dust covering the top in a thick layer. The air felt stale, like no one had lived there in at least a hundred years.

"This is amazing," Conrad said as he ran a finger through the dust, drawing a lopsided penis.

Suddenly, something clicked behind us, echoing in the hallway. My heart skipped a beat as my mind raced, and I turned back to the door. It sounded like it bolted shut on its own. I tried the handle, attempting to turn it. Nothing. I pulled on it, hoping it was just stuck.

A deep voice came over a sound system of some type. "Welcome to Hell. We're so glad you came to join our game tonight." Laughter crackled through the air as goose bumps formed on my skin. "Laissez les bons temps rouler."