Roots

24. Circus Trap p.2

--here is the cool inspo in my mind for Lauren's haunted house makeup. I rlly dig the rabid, browless eyes and the blood smears. looks like it wants to bite your face off--

Neon strobes flashed across the narrow passage. Beneath a sea of black canvas and wall dividers, an upcoming group was shrieking their vocal cords off to the droning beat of the audio. Lauren was concealed behind the smoke machine, nursing a dull ache that took residence in her eyes. Over the course of the work, some classmates showed up yet most were unable to recognize her inside the haunted house. 

As the first hour wore on and the visitors streamed in, the ache started out with a prick. Now, it was akin to the sting of shedding several eyelashes. 

"I am not a fan of whatever eyeliner she used," she said over her shoulder. 

An air toy squeaked a few turns down, followed by a gravelly, dissonant voice and slicing metal. The crowd roared. Whether it be thrill or genuine shock, she was too distracted to wonder. 

"We can go back after this group and see which one you're wearing," Emma replied several feet overhead. "You want some tissues in the meantime? Try my left pocket."

She pivoted to her small figure draped in tattered and bloodied clothes, now pinned to a wood-chip wall and with a cleaver prop wedged in her skull. The sight of her spread arms and legs always tugged a smirk out of her. As she'd hoped, her left pocket carried a miniature pack of kleenex. 

She carefully extracted one and dabbed the forming tears before they touched the rest of the makeup. At least it was very dark and hazy in the tunnel, that way the eye makeup mattered less. 

The familiar brush of footsteps appeared around the corner and she signaled Emma to ready herself. Heads focused into view amid the white, billowing smoke. The group came shuffling and holding onto each other. Lauren licked her lips. Halloween screams were like a delicacy, a score, and a neverending source of entertainment. 

She pulled out a second cleaver and ghosted behind the curtain. When the chain of people emerged, they instantly saw Emma convulsing on the wall, legs missing below the knee. Blood had splattered across the wood, and the matching shins welcomed the group on an abandoned surgery table. 

She calculated their distance. 

All of them reached the ideal point. That was when she lunged out of the darkness, a predatory stealth not unlike a Wanderer's, cleaver high over her head, with a jarring scream far stronger than the ones from the speakers. She went to bite inches away from a mother holding a son about Ethan's age, growling, and moved on to the next face. 

"Such a natural," Emma complimented once they passed. 

Lauren gave a watery smile. "Likewise."

"Okay now, unstrap me. Let's go look for that nasty eyeliner because your eyes look even freakier than with just the makeup."

With a weak nod, she unfastened her at the waist and thighs which allowed the girl to pull her legs out of the hole in the wall. She jumped down, and Lauren stole another kleenex on their walk to the tent. 

Other volunteers had aggregated near snacks and water bottles. Emma took her forearm and pulled her around the mirrors, opening each makeup bag she could find. Finally, she stumbled across what seemed to be the same white pen. They turned it in her palm, but Lauren felt that looking down amplified the sting. 

There was no company name or product name. 

"Weird." Emma uncapped it and swiped it on the back of her hand. "Should I try it on one eye?"