psycho | larry

5. "Do you want to play a game?"

The night seemed to be closing in on them, sucking the oxygen out of their lungs until they were gasping for breath, clawing at their necks until nothing but bruises remain. Still. Quiet. No sounds broke through the barrier of the wind, a chill settling over the grounds. Bright lights flickered in the distance, the final reminder of what this area once held, the childhood joy that once flourished within the gate. The present moment sucked out all of the happiness like a vampire desperate for blood, laughing at the horrors that remained in its wake.

And this vampire is nothing like Edward Cullen.

Liam stood before the pair, his determined gaze unwavering even as the tears continued down his face. His pale skin was illuminated by the few lights that still sparkled in front of the House of Mirrors, making his slimy tears shine delicately under the spotlights. "Please," he begged, glancing over his shoulder with urgency. His gaze led into the darkness that encased them, locking them into this nightmare until someone among them is brave enough to find the key.

No more words were spoken as Louis nodded his head, grabbing Eleanor's hand tightly. He could feel her trembling, the crimson blood coating her skin quickly painting itself across his own, binding them together as they stepped further into the unknown. Cautiously, the three exited from their hiding spot, hoping to stay out of sight of the clown that guarded the FunSlide, hoping that he would not have to complete his order to shoot Louis.

Liam's pace picked up as he led them through the back side of the carnival, where it appeared there were not many clowns waiting to attack. Even so, Louis' worried eyes remained trained on his surroundings, hoping to spot his missing friends within the destruction that littered the haunted lot. He had no idea what happened to Zayn and Harry, and such unfamiliarity with their whereabouts left a terrible feeling in his stomach. Something deep inside told him that they were still alive, but that light was quickly dimming and he could not help but fear the worst. He did not want to find them at the edge of a knife, or pressed against the barrel of a gun. They could not die, it should not come to that.

However, the dread that overpowered his relentless questioning was that of seeing Psycho the Clown, or one of his many deadly henchmen. As time passed without a bullet in his chest, he decided that seeing them may be better than not, since they can strike easier if they are hidden within the shadows.

He recognized this booth. The bright lights along the top of the stall reflected off the neon-colored balloons that lined the back wall, making Louis rapidly blink his eyes to be rid of the pain created by their shine. Stuffed animals that were definitely bought in bulk for a few measly pounds fell in line just beneath the lights, underneath the red awning to stay protected from the elements. The yellow paint coating the decorated kiosk was enough to make him nauseous, matching the wig of the jester that stood just behind the short counter. A star-patterned hat rested on top of his curly toupee, the white of the cap matching the paint that covered his mouth and eyes. A red foam ball hugged his large nose while a rainbow frilly collar clutched his neck. His blood-soaked and wrinkled costume, which adorned the same pattern as his hat, rustled in the harsh wind. His thick black eyebrows were painted in a display of surprise with his lips resembling a large, red frown, however, the expression he wore on his face was not the one created by his makeup. He grinned happily, wide eyes boring into Louis and the group that huddled together outside of the game booth. He lifted his glove covered to reveal a small, blue dart, turning his body to the side to pout at the presence next to him.

Slumped forward in a wooden chair was Niall, a long knife plunged into his chest. He was tightly tied to the seat, the threadbare rope digging into his pale, lifeless skin through his costume. His dull, blue eyes remained open on his head lulled to the side, a small trail of blood dripping from in between his open lips.