"How much longer?" the man asks impatiently. He is tapping his foot up and down. He does not seem aware of that.
"Thirty minutes," a man opposite of him answers. His eyes are fixed to the street.
"Fuck…" the man mumbles. He looks out the window; a snow storm is raging outside.
October 31, 2025 - Halloween
11:53 p.m.
"So let's party 'til the night goes out!" Ethan Xiu practically shouts into a microphone, before hopping off the podium.
The air smells of alcohol and overly sugary candy. Music blares from the wardrobe tall speakers that the ears thump to the rhythm. The manor that had seemed so giant before is now crowded to the brim with partygoers.
Ella, tall, blonde and dressed for the occasion, looks into the crowd for a very specific someone. It's just harder to do when everyone you know or don't has massive wigs, colorful clothes and sometimes downright awful costumes and face-paint on. And just as the rainbow-colored overhead stagelights illuminate the darkness and are starting to give her a real headache, she feels a presence on her shoulder and knows exactly who it is.
"And what are you supposed t—" Ron asks, at least tries to.
Ella embraces Ron in a long, drawn out kiss before releasing from him again. Ron looks perplexed, but otherwise all for the better at her.
"What are you supposed to be?" Ella retorts, eyeing him up and down. All he is wearing are some ragged brown shorts with an equally raggedy shirt.
"Can't you tell?"
Ella shakes her head.
"I'm a scarecrow! Come on, El!"
A slight chuckles escapes her. "A scarecrow?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah. What else am I supposed to be?"
"It looks like you took those out of a fucking dumpster!" She is in a full fit now. She can't stop laughing, she nearly falls to her knees.
"Well, sorry Ms. Tuttor that my taste in costume isn't as refined as yours. What are you supposed to be? A picture of Marilyn Monroe?"
She steadies herself again. "Marion Crane. Psycho." She stands all proudly in front of him so that he can admire her costume, her wig and grey make-up she's applied all over her body.
"That one with Christian Bale?" he asks with the sincerest of innocence and obliviousness.
Her eyes widen at the remark and she pushes Ron lightly.
"No! That one with Anthony Perkins!"
"Oh." Ron scratches his chin.
"The one with the shower scene?" Ella attempts to jog his memory. "That scene?"
Like in some clockwork mechanism there is a slight jolt in Ron's brain, however minute. "Oh, yeah. I remember! She got stabbed to death. And died."
"Yes. That's what 'stabbed to death' implies."
"Yeah."
Ella looks around the room, or moreso hall that they are all in. Windows that reach all the way to the ceiling, tables adorned with everything you could want, plastic skeletons hanging by nooses from the rafters. It all looks so amazing.
She turns her gaze to Ron. "Where did you even come from?"
"I was with Dale and Chipper in the west wing of the place. This place is HUGE." He stretched his arms to visualize it.
"That's what one gets when one's parents are super-duper rich peeps."
"But why even build this place? Don't Ethan's parents not already have a regular home that doesn't need a ton of maintenance, isn't at some remote place in the snowy mountains and don't just visit once or twice a year?"
"As I said, super-duper rich." Ella looks around some more. "Speaking of Ethan, where the hell is he? I've only seen him at the beginning of the party."
"Maybe out back with the others. Hey, I also wanted to show you something super-duper cool."
Ella raises an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Follow me."
The scarecrow taking Marion Crane by the hand, they venture through a large doorway into the west wing of the manor. Ella is a bit confused of what could be more exciting than the party going on behind them, but she would be lying if she doesn't feel just the tiniest bit intrigued. So she goes with Ron past the guests, beverages and Halloween decorations, out into the west wing.
00:07 a.m.
The manor's hallways seem to go on endlessly. Beautifully illustrated paintings of the mountains, vast meadows and crystal-clear skies adorn the wooden walls. Still holding her by the hand, Ron leads her into the end of the west wing.
"Okay, what's so important, big boy?"
"Oh," Ron says, accentuating it with a sly smile, "it's totally awesome."
Whether she should be curious or afraid she isn't sure yet. She decides to play along with it for a little while more.
Eventually they arrive in a giant room. One that looks more like a wing in a museum than a room. Artefacts stand on pedestals under spotlights to further highlight their apparent significance and value. They are old, at least most of them look like it. Ella needs some time to process all of this — this had not been what she had expected. All the while the spirit of the party lives on in the distance.
"Ron, what is this?" she asks wearily, never taking her eyes off any of the artefacts.
"Neat, huh? Dale, Chipper and me looked for a way to the main hall. Then Dale saw Ethan entering this room and we followed him. Must've been a trick of his mind, because we didn't find Ethan anywhere. But we found these cool things nonetheless."
"Are we even allowed in here?" Ella questions. There is something deeply unsettling about standing in a room full of wooden masks, stone statues and the like. Ella can feel the heebie-jeebies go down her spine and she backs off back to the doorway. That is when she notices something odd about the door; it's not a normal wooden door, but a heavy, metal one that is at least a meter thick. It looks to belong more in a submarine than a mansion, but her parents aren't the ones being super rich, she supposes.
"Come on, El! Do you see a 'Do not enter' sign anywhere here?"
She looks back at the heavy metal door — there, indeed, is no such sign. "But we still should not be in here." She feels chilly all of a sudden.
"I brought you here so we could explore a bit! Not just to take a peek and dip out! Like, look at these cool masks," the masks seem to gaze right into her soul, "or these totem thingies," they lie prone on a long display table, "and this cool, awesome vase!"
That vase. Small, ornate, pure white. Intricate runes and depictions of various animals have been carved onto the smooth surface of the vase. It looks light and most likely would be so. Utterly unassuming. But it has an impact on her. There is this awful feeling of foreboding and dread that is shaking her to her bones. And Ron is reaching his hand out at it.
Without even noticing, she yells, "Ron, don't touch that!"
Ron suddenly startles stiff. He turns to look at her, utterly confused. His hand is mere inches away from the vase.
"Why not?"
Feeling clearer now, a feeling of embarrassement washes over her. She fondles her hair out of habit and looks down. "It could damage it. O—or something."
She really feels embarrassed now. Why are you so tense? You watch horror movies every day of the week, why so scared now? She can't even look Ron in the eyes, that's how embarrassed she feels.
Ron lowers his hand and walks up to her. He is at least a head taller, so she has to strain her eyes to look into his. She feels his warm hand on her chin. He tilts her head up so that they are seeing eye-to-eye.
"Hey. Sorry if I've made you uncomfortable." He smiles his smile. Ella becomes all fuzzy inside.
"No… Ron… I'm sorry for being weird there."
Their gazes meet. They can feel each other's breaths. It's as if their heartbeats are in complete harmony. They close their eyes and kiss each other again. It's a long, drawn out kiss, but one that feels genuine, moreso than the others. All of their problems are being swept away.
"What are you guys doing here?" it sounds from the door.
The two unlock from their kiss. They look at the figure at the door.
"The make-out corner is at the complete opposite side of the building."
"Ethan! What's up, my man?" Ron walks over to Ethan and tightly clasps his hand with his. Both of their grips are tight and strong. They give each other a pat on the back.
"The party's over on that way," Ethan says, looking at both of them. "So what are you guys doing here?"
"Yeah, sorry. We just…" There is a pause in Ron's eyes. He's struggling to come up with something, Ella can tell.
She quickly comes up with something. "Lost. We got lost trying to find the restrooms."
"Restrooms?" Ethan questions.
"Yeah. Restrooms," Ella doubles down.
"Well, they are on that side," he points to the right, "and down just a couple more hallways— So basically right next to the main hall."
"Oh, right. Of course."
There is an impeccably awkward silence. Ella can feel sweat beads roll down her forehead.
"It's like you two have never been here before," Ethan breaks the silence. That itch of sarcasm that Ella remembers about Ethan.
"Yeah, it's just that it's been a while," Ron says. "We haven't been here for, like, what? Seven years almost?"
"Six years. And, yeah, I guess so," Ethan says, thinking.
After getting out of his train of thought, Ethan clasps his hands together that it causes Ella to tense up. She hopes that neither of the others have noticed — which they have — and says, "So, if you haven't noticed, there is a 'Do not enter' sign there on the wall," he points at the portion of the wall that had been blocked off by the door. Ella gives herself a slap on the forehead in her mind, "so it'd be nice if you could move your asses out."
"Asses out mode activated," Ron says.
The two move out of the room. They quickly walk down the left hallway.
"… The restrooms are on the right side!" Ethan shouts back at them.
Like penguins, Ella and Ron quickly turn and waddle the other way. They soon disappear around the corner, Ethan never taking his eyes off of them even after they've rounded the corner.
00:25 a.m.
The music starts to thump in their ears again. The smell of alcohol wafts into their nostrils, a smell that has become more pronounced than the last time they had been in here.
"That was way too close," Ron remarks, his voice barely coherent against the speakers and yelling of other partygoers.
"You bet. Good job on me for saving our asses."
"I also did my part. I mentally deactivated him. Made him less suspicious of us."
Ella rolls her eyes, a gesture Ron does not pick up on. "I need a beer," she declares.
Making her way to the beverages, her throat as dry as a desert after that whole ordeal, Ella bumps head-first into a short woman wearing a crimson red bunny outfit with pure black fishnet stockings.
"I'm so sorry, I— Jess?" she takes a closer look; it is her. "Jess! Hey! How're you doing? Looking fine with that bunny outfit."
"Good. Thanks. Listen, do you have a lighter?" she answers while looking around all frantic and haphazard.
"No. Why—"
"Shit! You?" She turns her gaze at Ron.
"Nope."
"Fuck! Gotta get to my car…"
"Wait, why do you need a lighter?" Ella tries again.
"To fucking smoke! I need a cig right about now."
"Maybe you should stop smoking. It's bad for the lungs." A wide grin spreads across Ron's face.
Jess scoffs and heads through the crowd toward the exit. "Asshole…" she mutters as she heads out through the door.
The music suddenly cuts out. The colorful lights turn off. Everything comes to a standstill. Ella can hear her own breathing and heartbeat. She can tell, for some inexplicable reason, that her heart is going fast. Faster. More than fast. That same feeling of dread wells up inside her again, begging to break out of her in a shape or form.
Then the lights turn back on. But the lights are white and bright. Ella closes her eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. It makes her head spin. She can just see a figure standing on a podium.
"Sorry for the interruption, folks. I swear I'll be quick." It's Ethan, who is looking down on the entire hall. Dozens of people stop what they are doing and look up at him, Ethan Xiu, their host. He is holding a microphone in his hands.
"I don't mean to break the party spirit, but I thought now, better than later where most of you are either full of coke or sorry sacks of beer." Ethan clears his throat.
"So, I wanted to take the time for me to talk. I see that there are a lot of people here." Ella notices that Ethan is holding the mic really tightly. "Some of you know me since kindergarten." He looks in the crowd. Ethan and Ron look at each other.
"Some of you know me from school, my workplace. Others know me as the kid that they had to hang out with, because their parents tried to get into good graces with mine." There are a few chuckles. "Regardless of how or why you're here tonight, I'd like to say… thank you. Thank you all for being here. Thank you for sacrificing your time for m—me.
"A—and I…"
She squints her eyes just to be absolutely, a hundred percent sure. There are tears in Ethan's eyes. One is, Ella could see, rolling down the left side of his face, down his cheek, before disappearing behind his choker. Ella feels strange, like she's unsure how to process any of it.
Ethan quickly wipes away his tears. There is a pause. Like there's something stuck in his throat. He gulps, then smiles again.
"Enough with the yapping. Let's get back to the p—party!"
Right on cue, the lights turn off and back on in their colorful delight again. Accompanied with it, the speakers also turn back on. It seems that everyone has chosen to ignore what has just happened and are going straight to partying again. By the time the lights are back on, Ethan is already gone. Ella and Ron, right at the same time, turn to look at each other. There is a mutual understanding between them.
"What the hell was that?" Ella asks dumbfounded. "Has he always been like this?"
"I don't know… I mean, sure, he can get emotional quite easily, but this didn't make any sense."
"Yeah…"
Ella finally grabs herself a beer. The beer is cool to the touch. She gulps down the cool liquid and it eases her mind immediately, to feel that familiar touch, the water droplets going down her fingers, hand and wrist. She takes another sip, hands over the bottle to Ron who also delights in the taste.
"Much better. I really needed this, El."
"No problem," she says, and starts to slowly drift off into the white noise of the party sounds.
…
…
…
A scream pierces the hall. Everyone goes silent and still, as their attention is shifted to the broken down figure at the entrance doors. Ella is startled awake by this, her eyes, too, now glued to where the others are looking at.
Another loud scream. Like a crying baby or a dying coyote. The noise shakes Ella to her very core. She can hardly see what the other guests are looking at, so thick is the crowd of people. She weaves between the costumed partygoers and can make up small details from the glimpses through the crowd — red outfit, black stockings, bunny ears. Like an adrenaline shot, her body is jolted awake. She is now rushing past the partygoers toward the figure, Ron, beer in hand, just inches behind her.
As she gets closer she can hear Jess ranting and babbling.
"You need to get out! Get out NOW!" Jess yells against a deaf audience.
"What the fuck…" someone says.
"This bitch is high as shit!" another person declares.
Ella manages to get all the way to the front.
"El!" Jess jumps up and holds onto Ella dearly. From so up close Ella sees that Jess' outfit is torn. Slashes adorn the red fabric. There are bruises on her arms and legs, dirt and leaves in her long blonde hair. Streams of blackness are there where her tears have made contact with her eye shadow.
"Oh, El, please, get out of here. Now. Get out of here. It's not safe out here. It's not. It's not safe…"
"Jess… what happened?" She tries to make sense of any of it.
Jess holds onto her arms and stares her deeply into the eyes. Ella winces of how tight Jess' grip is. "It's a monster, El. I saw it! As tall as a fucking lamp post and its body…"
Jess looks past Ella. Right at the beer bottle in Ron's hand. But she is not eyeing the beer, not directly. No, what she is eyeing is what she sees in the beer. Or the reflection on it.
She gasps for breath.
"It's here."
"Who is? Jess, who is here—"
What happens next is like a bad dream. A vivid memory. Everything happens so fast, all in under a second. First the rumbling of the floor, akin to an earthquake. Then wood splinters flying everywhere. Dust settling. And then comes the screaming.
There is a sensation against her back. The cold sensation of the floor. Then warmth on her arms. A tight grip. Hoisted back onto her feet by Ron, they run away. Where to, they don't know, as long as it's far away from that creature. She can barely make out any details in the haze, but recalls seeing thick fur, hooves and giant horns on the thing's head. And the lower body of someone in the thing's mouth. Someone with all black fishnet stockings. She vomits as she runs.
00:35 a.m.
"9-1-1. What is—"
"Please come immediately! We're at Eastside Manor! Th—here's a giant monster that's killing us!" Ella screams into her phone.
The line is silent for a while. Ella cannot bear the silence.
"H—hello? HELLO?!" Her voice is erratic. Panicky.
The line goes alive again. "Eastside Manor?" the voice asks, just to be sure.
"YES! We are currently holed-up in a room. We don't know how much longer we have. Please, come immediate—"
And then the line goes out.
01:37 a.m.
There is a low droning sound from several hallways away. Screams echo down the halls, before they are abruptly silenced. Marion Crane and the Scarecrow have retreated back into a far, dark corner somewhere that looks to be a dining room with a cozy fireplace. But now it's not cozy, far from it — it feels cold, unwelcoming, and the fireplace looks like a hungry maw.
Both of their heartbeats are going off rapidly. Sweat drips down their bodies. Their grips are tighter than any metal cuffs or binding rope. Although it is dark, their eyes are wide open, darting frantically from the door and the darkness. Every time they hear that low droning sound, a yell, a scream, they flinch. They know that a flimsy wooden door, no matter how ornate, would not be enough protection. That at any moment the creature could come bursting through, and that would be the end.
Ella is trying to get that awful image of Jess' bloody legs dangling by tendons in that creature's maw out of her head. The image flashes before her eyes and every time she sees it, she feels like she is about to scream, burst into tears, start rambling madly.
She settles for the option that is less likely to attract the creature's attention and that is to quietly sob into her lover's shoulder.
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay…" Ron tries to calm her down. He knows it's all bullshit. Nothing is okay.
"I'm scared, Ron," she comes out in between sobs.
"I—I know, El. I'm scared, too."
Her voice, barely a whisper, "I don't want to d—die…"
He gulps. "… me n—neither."
There is a rattling at the door. Quiet. Methodical. Ella preemptively closes her eyes and braces for the worst. She grips Ron's hand more tightly. She can feel his grip strengthen as well. In Ron's other hand there is a rusty firepoker from the burnt-out fireplace. It shakes in his hand, its tip pointed straight at the door. He knows that it won't do much against the creature, but the thought of at least having something to defend himself with comforts him, if only a bit.
The door opens. In comes a man, startled and confused. He's panting. He closes the door behind him. His clothes are raggedy. Shrivels of some sort of Barbie costume are still recognizable.
Ron parts his lips, as dry as they are. He says, "C—chipper?" The words just barely come out.
The man suddenly darts behind him. Apparently he has not noticed there had been other people in the room. He looks all over, trying to find the source of the voice.
"R—ron?"
He finally spots them. He runs toward them. "Oh, my God… Oh, my God, Ron, I thought you were… Ron, man, fuck… FUCK!"
Chipper stands inches away from them. Ella is relieved to see another familiar face that she lets out a deep exhale, one that she had not even noticed she had been holding.
"Where's Dale?" Ron asks.
There comes the heavy breathing again. "It took Dale, man… It just hoisted him up a—and tore him in fucking two halves, man…" His breathing becomes more shallow. Chipper looks down on the floor, his mind unable to process anything. "It fucking… We were running to the cars. Motherfucker had already wrecked them before we arrived there…" Chipper abruptly stops there.
Silence spreads through the room. An unpleasant silence.
"We need to get out of here," Ella says resigned, her gaze looking as if at some other place. And she desperately wants to be at another place right now.
"Where the fuck to?!" Chipper suddenly bursts out, startling the other two, "I'm not wading through patches of snow in the middle of these fucking mountains! Especially not with that thing roaming about!"
"What are we supposed to do?! Wait here, until it finds us?!"
"I don't know! It's better than the fucking alternative!"
There is a spark in her eyes. A little glimmer enough to ignite the fire of an idea in her mind. Ron can tell. "Where were the cars?"
"What?" is Chipper's only response.
"The wrecked cars! Up front or at the back?"
"Shit… It was near the main entrance. Why?"
"There might be a chance the cars out back are still intact."
Chipper's eyes are wide. He can't believe her words. "You can't be serious… You can't be fucking serious! Did you not listen to a single word I've said?! That thing wrecked the cars and tore Dale in half!"
"If you wanna hide, fine! Go hide! But I'm not gonna sit here like fish and wait out my remaining time in the sun! I'm gonna get the fuck out, whether you want to, I don't fucking care!" Ella has fully snapped. She feels like pulling her hair out.
Ron puts a hand on her shoulder. She immediately goes at ease again. "I think we should go," he declares.
"What? Fine! If you wanna die so badly, then so be it!" Chipper stampedes back to the door. "I'm gonna hide in the museum wing. At least the door there's sturdy enough to take a beating!"
"Chip," Ron says, "please go with us! It's too dangerous alone!"
Chipper just scoffs. He lets out a high-pitched laugh. "Where you're going it's dangerous! Where I'm going it's totally…" he puts his hand on the handle and opens the door, "and completely saf—"
A geysir of blood spurts out through Chipper's back. His pink dress gets soaked in his own warm fluid as the creature's clawed hand goes right through his abdomen. Ella and Ron scream, the most deathly screams ever produced. With just pure strength alone, the creature lifts Chipper up, so that they are eye-to-eye with each other. The creature's gnarly teeth span out to reveal a seemingly infinite abyss in its maw, ready to consume.
Ella is paralyzed by fear. Ron is conscious for just enough that he yanks her up and runs past the horrifying creature.
Ella snaps out of her apparent stupor. Everything goes by so slowly, yet so quickly. She can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, her primal fight-or-flight reaction kicking at full force. They run past the creature, down the hallway, as it shoves the whole of Chipper's body down its throat, just as it did with Jess and presumably countless more.
Just as they round the corner, Ella takes one last look behind her. She looks at the creature. The creature turns its gaze toward them.
01:48 a.m.
This whole scenario reminds Ella of the first time she had entered the haunted house attraction at the carnival in the town she and her father had lived in. It had been this giant, two storey building that one could walk into, go through hallways of pre-programmed scares of animatronics, puppets and people in costumes, before coming out on the other end. Prizes of admission had been $20 for the both of them, which definitely had been way too much, now that she is thinking about it.
She had been six at the time and her father had gone in with her. Suffice it to say that it had been the most terrifying experience ever in her life up to that point. Even though she had her eyes closed and her ears shut for the entire duration, it still had left a mark on her; a mark that would turn out to be a seed, that would in turn blossom into an unhealthy obssession with anything horrifying.
Nowadays, that haunted house attraction is but a distant memory, one that she still likes to look back on from time to time. She has gone through worse since then — the death of her cat, a car crash and a break-up.
The reason why the memory of the attraction is coming back up again is because of the winding, seemingly endless hallways that she is running through, blood splattered and mutilated bodies just lying like any regular Halloween decorations on the carpeted floor; just like how she has imagined the scares in the attraction to look like, only way, way more realistic. And just like in that house, she is keeping her eyes and ears shut tightly as much as she can allow herself to do so.
They go down a flight of stairs. They skip a few steps as they sprint down. That thought of missing one step and tripping and falling down the stairs and then the grip of the creature around one's waist. And then the feeling of being wedged between its ginormous jaws. Ella shakes off the thought as much as she can.
There it is; the exit door. Both of them rush toward it even under the pain of having run too long. Their legs hurt, but neither of them care. They rush against the door… and tumble right back down to the carpeted floor. Ron is the first one to get back up. He rattles on the door handle, desperately shaking it, begging for it to open.
"Open, you stupid thing! Fucking open!"
His cries fall onto deaf ears. Ella stands back up again, holds her head and turns to look behind her; just around the corner a dim flickering light is causing a shadow to be cast onto the floor.
On the floor is the shadow of the giant creature. Now that she actually has time to properly look at it, she can make out certain details. Arms and legs too lanky, the neck as long as an entire table. Hands that end in sharp fingers that look like the legs of spiders against the light. Then there is its head; too giant to ever fit on any earthly creature, with an unhinging jaw and teeth to spare. The shadow flickers in and out of existence, one moment there and the next gone, only to reappear just a little bit closer around the corner.
It is hideous to look at, and Ella remembers just vaguely to have seen a depiction of it somewhere else before.
Behind her, Ron has grabbed the firepoker and has jammed it in-between the doors and has started to pry the doors open. He puts his entire weight onto it that he's afraid the poker's going to snap somehow.
It doesn't. The doors heave open, causing cold wind to rush into the hallway. Snow has mounted on the edges of the doorsteps and the frost is making the doors harder to open. A good thing, because after both of them have squeezed through the tight opening — first Ella, then Ron — it has made a barrier between them and the monstrosity.
Ella breathes heavily against the door after it's shut. She is struggling to keep herself warm and she feels like she is about to turn into an icicle. Ron grabs her by the hand, and his gaze alone causes her body to warm up just a tiny bit.
"Come on. I see something over there."
The heavy snowfall is making advancing difficult. The layers and layers of snow crunch beneath their feet. They cover their eyes just to see a few feet in front of them as the hood of a car struds into view. And a silhouette. A dark silhouette.
Ella and Ron stop in their tracks. The silhouette comes out from behind the car; Ron raises the firepoker at the shape. But it's just Ethan, wearing a thick parka. Ella can hear Ron audibly sigh in relief. He lowers his weapon.
"Ethan! F—fuck… listen, we need to get out. Do you have keys?" He points at the car.
Of course, Ella thinks to herself. The goddamn keys!
But Ethan isn't listening. He doesn't care for any of Ron's words.
"E—ethan…" Ella stutters against the cold, "please… please tell me you have keys…"
Ethan removes the hood of his parka. In the faint moonlight, Ella can make out tears in Ethan's eyes.
"I'm so sorry…" he says as he pulls out a pistol and shoots Ron in the leg.
He screams and collapses in pain. Ella tumbles to the ground with him. Her entire body is shaking from the cold and horror as her mind scrambles what is happening or why Ethan had shot Ron.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…"
Ethan wipes away his tears. It's difficult to see with them.
"Have you ever wondered why my parents are so rich? It wa—asn't… it wasn't some strategy or buying up smaller businesses… It was fucking black magic!"
Ella has buried herself in the snow. She hopes desperately that he cannot see her, with her gray make-up and all in the snow and darkness. The snow swirls around her. The air feels too cold to breathe.
"That thing in there… my grandparents summoned that thing from some pit… It promised them power and good fortune, and they took it. They took its deal. But there was one condition. We had to feed it souls. Souls of live humans. They refused. They trapped it, b—but it wasn't dead. No.
"It said that it would return and th—hat it would demand a soul for every year it has been kept unfed. The cage was starting to crack and the date was coming… the debt was due. So we, my family, had to make a decision… So it was either our souls or yours… You two are the last. I'm so sorry."
Ethan looks all around him. The snow whips at him. "Where the… where the fuck are you?!" he yells against the wind.
Her heart is beating faster and faster. It pounds in her ears, and for a split second she thinks that Ethan's gonna hear her heartbeat and shoot her in the leg just like he had done with Ron; Ron lying in the snow only meters away from her, groaning in agony, but much less now as he is slowly succumbing to the cold.
She feels something sharp next to her; it's the firepoker. She wraps her fingers around it, holding it tight.
"Come out… please… You are the last one, Ella! Come out and end this! It can finally be over!"
He is near inches away from her. She slowly rises from the snow, the firepoker in hand.
"Damn it! Come out, you little bitch!" Ethan yells.
She damns her heart for beating so fast. She damns the snow for crunching underneath her feet. But none of those things matter. No noise in the world is loud enough to be heard by Ethan Xiu's shattered mind as Ella gets close enough and pierces his chest with a firepoker.
Blood gushes from the wound that stains the snow a crimson red. A round is discharged from the pistol, one that bounces off the hood of the car and lands somewhere in the snow. Ethan lets out a muffled gurgle of pain. Blood pools out from his mouth. His bloodied hands hold onto Ella, anything, but he is too weak, and she pushes him off of him with ease. Ethan writhes on the snowy ground, his movements erratic, spasmodic.
In his final breaths, he can see his vision becoming blurry. The warmth in his chest, even in the cold. His limbs start to go numb and he's surprised that he's made it this far in the dying stage. So that's how it feels, he thinks to himself and gives a lowly, hearty chuckle that is immediately followed by a coughing fit.
He gives out a final breath and bleeds out in the snow.
Ella immediately runs to Ron, who has gone all still now. Tears run down her face as she tears a piece of her costume off and wraps it around the leg wound. A low droning sound comes from the distance. She snaps her head around, listening intently. The droning is coming nearer and nearer.
02:33 a.m.
Chipper had been right; the museum ward's heavy metal door is sturdy enough to withstand the blows of the creature. So far. She has fled with Ron's unconscious body in this room while the thing had been sniffing the air and wrecking the few remaining cars that still hadn't been wrecked. On the floor also lay the vase, now broken into a thousand pieces; one of the fragments had the depiction of a goat on it.
Ella's arms are tightly around Ron's curled-up body. He is still breathing, but barely. His leg is red, the blood continues to drip.
Dust settles from the door hinges. The door is finally giving in. Ella steadies her breathing and closes her eyes, having already accepted her fate. She holds Ron even tighter now as tears stream from her eyes.
"I love you," she mumbles between sobs, as the metal door gives one final CLANK as it hits the floor.
She can feel the beating in her chest come to a halt. Her eyes are shut so tightly that they hurt. Seconds feel like years as she waits for the claws of the monstrosity to dig in, tear her apart, and make her watch — just a sack of meat, blood and bones on the floor — of how it's going to tear Ron apart, too.
She waits.
And waits.
But the moment never comes. She doesn't feel the claws pierce her stomach, her clothes get soaked in her own blood, the excruciating pain as the creature lifts her up from the floor. She doesn't feel anything at all.
"NOW!" a deep voice yells, one she has never heard before.
She opens her eyes; runes, similar to those that had been engraved on the surface of the now broken vase, are surrounding the creature. It's form is curled-up and screaming and writhing in agony, as it shrieks into the empty air.
Then a man, clad in heavy gear, struds into view. And behind him several more.
"Freeze! Put your hands up in the air! Identify yourself! NOW!" the deep voice is shouting at her.
Funny costume, she thinks as the world around her becomes but a blur.
It's too much for her to bear. She faints and hits her head against the floor.
*
Dr. Wilkson is looking at a bunch of papers; he will have to fill out each and every single piece of it and sighs at the thought. The door to his office opens.
"Agent," he said, all the while rubbing his eyes.
"Dr. Wilkson," the agent nods. "The entity has been successfully contained."
"And the civilians?" He looks up from his paperwork.
"The male is currently recovering from a nasty leg wound; nothing too serious, but we'll have to be quick," the agent answers, their rapid fire words like coming out of a machine gun.
"And the female?"
"Very riled-up. Currently unable to speak. We have assigned a psychologist to her."
Dr. Wilkson nods. "Anything else?"
The agent shakes their head. Dr. Wilkson motions them to leave his office so that he can finish his work in peace. The door locks behind them.
He looks down at the stacks of papers. "We all go a little mad sometimes," Dr. Wilkson mumbles to himself as he returns back to the paperwork.