Beauty and the Beauty (Lesbian Romance)

Festival ~ Part 2

The exterior of the house was the same every year, which would probably put someone less in-the-know off entering it every year, but the locals all knew the interior was never the same. Taylor had been dropping hints as to what was inside for the weeks leading up to the festival, but I still had no idea what to expect. Jackson and I gripped each other's hands in true haunted house tradition as we made our way up the rickety wooden porch stairs and opened the door that barely clung to its hinges. I was eager to get inside so I grabbed the handle, grabbing Jackson into the pulsating darkness awaiting us. Many slow seconds passed as we stood adjusting to the darkness, our hearts already racing, expecting a jump scare any second. All I could hear was our breathing. Suddenly a dim light came on a few feet ahead of us at the other end of a straight, narrow corridor. Tentatively, we glanced around at our new environment but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary - no mirrors with ghosts to appear behind us, no thick cobwebs with spiders the size of footballs to crawl over our faces, no mysteriously blood-like writing on the walls... Just a narrow corridor, barely wide enough for one person to fit down let alone a couple holding hands. Weird. Jackson and I glanced at each other, shrugging and taking our first few uncertain steps deeper into the house. 

              'Taylor's not one to keep us in suspense at the start of the house,' I said, giggling nervously. Jackson began to laugh too, his hand still holding mine as he walked behind me. 

               'Bit odd, isn't it,' he replied, 'I'm sure we'll find out why any second.' 

The floorboards creaked under our weight as we moved towards the door at the other end. A gasp sounded behind me, making me jump.

              'Did you feel that?' Jackson whispered. 

              'What - no? What was it?' I replied, looking back and seeing nothing but my friend. 

              'I -  I swear I felt a hand,' Jackson stammered, the look on his face convincing me he wasn't making it up. Before I even had time to process, Jackson's mouth opened wide. 

              'Shit!' I screamed. 'I just felt it!' My heart began to race even faster. 

             'They're coming out of the walls! There's more!' Jackson exclaimed, pushing me along the corridor. 'Go, go, go!' 

We ran as fast as we could with the hands gripping our bodies and trying to hold us back, their skin a deathly shade of blue-gray and as cold as ice. We screamed every time we were grabbed, but really at this point we were more having fun than afraid. This was the typical style of horrors you'd face in Taylor's haunted house, before coming across the true terror. Finally we made it to the door and I grabbed the handle, hurriedly forcing the door in front of me open, without a second thought about what might be up ahead. 

A large room lit only with candles awaited us. In the corner, an unoccupied rocking chair slowly creaked back and forth, an open window let a chilling, whistling breeze flicker over the candles, dimming their light momentarily then dying down and letting the light pick up again. We both took a few steps into the room, beaming with excitement and anticipation. Above the fireplace was an old mirror with an ornate frame. Classic horror movie stuff. We could see our own reflections clearly and we locked eye contact in the mirror then turned towards each other. 

          'I don't know what to expect after last year,' Jackson stated, looking around the mostly-empty room. 

          'Me either, but you know it'll be good!' I replied, taking another few steps towards the mirror. A flash of movement caught my eye in the reflection. I could tell by Jackson's stiffened body that he saw it too. The rocking chair sped up just as a fire erupted in the fire place, bringing our glances down for a split second as we both jumped backwards. We looked back into the mirror at the same time and screamed. Behind us, between our heads was a woman with eyes as dead as a shark's, dressed in a grey dress with a matching veil on her head. We both scrambled away, turning to face the apparition. Gone. She was gone. The chair stopped moving, the fire went out. The only sound in the room was the wind and our terrified breathing as we stood shaking, nervously glancing into the mirror. After a few seconds, when we were sure she wasn't coming back, we both laughed. The best thing about the haunted house was how it made you doubt everything you see - just as soon as you've seen something, it's as if it was never there. 

          'Let's go,' I said breathily. Jackson nodded in response and took the lead, opening the next door, then slamming it as quickly as it opened, our screaming louder than the thud of the door in its frame. She was on the other side of the door. We both laughed again, pretending we weren't as scared as we really were - pretending to each other and ourselves. 

          'We have to go through it, Jackson,' I whispered. He nodded again, but neither of us made a move for the handle. After what seemed like an eternity, Jackson's hand slowly rose from his side to the brass doorknob, twisting it slowly and opening it cautiously. Of course, the figure was gone. We both breathed a sigh of relief and laughed. 

          'That was brilliant,' Jackson whispered excitedly, just as blinding white lights glared on above our heads. We covered our eyes instinctively, waiting for our vision to adjust to the new brightness. When we could finally make out what we'd walked into, I wished my eyes had never adjusted. 

          A hospital. A white, sterile hospital room. Two operating tables with cuffs stood menacingly in the centre of the room. There was no way I was getting onto one of those. Forget about it. A steel cart with meticulously lined up medical tools - a scalpel, a needle the length of my forearm, forceps and other equipment I didn't recognise but also didn't want to learn what it was. 

         'Are you okay?' Jackson asked, squeezing my hand a little tighter. Jackson was the only person on this planet, except for myself, who knew about my fear for all things hospital. Ever since my mum's accident, they'd sent shivers down my spine. I was six when it happened. Every day, my aunt walked me into the ward where my mum lay in a coma, a ghost of her former self, the lacerations on her head and chest scarring me, the brace holding her spine tightly in place making me worry she couldn't breath and that's why she wouldn't wake up. Doctors scared me, nurses scared me, long, white, clean corridors scared me and that hospital smell... That smell... It permeated the room like a fog. As I began to sweat I kept reminding myself it wasn't real. 

          'Yeah -' my throat was coarse, I coughed. 'Yeah, I'm good.' Was I trying to convince him, or myself? 

The door on the opposite side of the room opened, revealing nothing but darkness in whatever was beyond. Seemingly out of nowhere, a doctor bustled in, reading something on a clipboard. 

          'Ah. You're here already. Are you ready for your procedures?' The doctor said, never once making eye contact, his voice like steel. A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, making me jump. Two large male nurses had come in the door behind us and were now steering us towards the tables. This was too much... 

         'It's not real, Ana, it's not real,' Jackson reminded me, but his words didn't help at all. I looked over at him frantically to be met with a big goofy grin. 

We were swept up onto the tables simultaneously, and whilst Jackson wasn't putting up much of a fight and seemed to actually be enjoying himself behind the usual fear evoked by a haunted house. 

Screaming and thrashing, I fought with everything I had, determined not to get cuffed and thus trapped on the cold hard metal of the operating table. No! I felt the first cuff tighten around my left wrist as I watched the doctor pick up the needle from its resting place, examining the fluid inside of it. My heart was racing so fast I could barely breathe. The light above me seemed to be pulsating; the clean white walls seemed to be closing in around me. I tried to scream but no sound left my lungs. I was dizzy, so, so dizzy. Faintly, as if from somewhere far in the distance, I heard Jackson's voice. 

           'Hey, wait! Look at her, she's not doing well -' The room kept going dark momentarily as I slipped in and out of consciousness. The voices seemed even further away. I couldn't breathe... I couldn't breathe! I began to panic again, desperately trying to clamber away from the person holding me but it was as if my body couldn't keep up with my brain. I couldn't move. 

          'Let's go...' Was I imagining the voices? They seemed to far away to be real. 

 'The back way...' For the last time, the room went dark.