Page 31 of Shadowface

We park and all step out into the night. Music pulses from the inside the building, everyone lining up to get in.

My skin crawls as someone pushes past me. Whoever it is stops and stares at me, wearing that hideous burlap mask. He tilts his head, and I gasp.

“Hey, fucker, watch out,” Grant threatens, and I look up at him. I grab his hand to stay near him, but only because of the overwhelming amount of Shadowfaces consuming me.

Dani loops her arm with mine, sensing my unease. “It’s fine, don’t worry so much.”

Everyone is wearing a mask, with creepy eyes and gaping holes over their mouths, and I wonder which grocery store the campus must have infiltrated to get their hands on these potato sacks.

Scarecrows… Everyone looks like haunted scarecrows, and I don’t understand the appeal. These aren’t even the sexy masks like Ghostface, or the kind that glow in the dark. This is truly disturbing and has an occult feel.

Dani hands me one. “Come on, Summer. If you can’t beat em, join em.”

With a deep breath, I secure my mask in its rightful position, anticipating some sort of sensation. The rough texture of the burlap against my skin is abrasive and uneasy. His eyes on me—in front of me, behind me. It’s like he’s everywhere. His essence is seeping into my skin.

My heart stammers as a wind cuts through my thin layer of clothes, and Grant, who senses my nervousness, grabs my hand. “Just stay with me, beautiful. You’ll be alright.”

“It’s just fun,” Dani reminds me. I have to do a double take at her. Her eyes are shadowed, and she has a rope tied around her neck, reminding me of the collar Lincoln’s brother had on that girl. Morbidly hot, Dani would say, so it doesn’t surprise me she added that accessory.

My eyes grow wide, and she stares back at me.

Here, everyone is equal. Everyone’s the same. Everyone is him.

A unifying ceremony, Dani had called it, and I wonder just how much research she’s done on the Order.

“It’s like we’ve been reborn,” she says as Misty walks up beside her, looking just as deranged. Dani twirls around in a dance and squeals. “It’s like we can do anything we want and be anyone.” Those words chill me to the core.

Death. He represents death. We shouldn’t be glamorizing this.

This is supposed to be fun, I tell myself as we head toward the Fresh Mart, where the walls are shaking from pounding music inside.

The warehouse is one massive room, with a dark hallway in the corner leading to a few rooms in the back. No bathrooms that I can see, and the lack of air is suffocating. The place is packed, with barely enough room to walk. And the music is so loud it would mute any sounds, should anyone need to scream.

I keep my hands on Dani, but she slips from my grip and Grant takes over.

Dani turns to face me with that creepy mask. “Let’s dance,” she yells over the music.

Grant’s hand moves to my lower back, and I immediately get lost in the room. Sweat, alcohol, and limbs are everywhere.

Everyone is grinding on each other, shrieks of laughter and yelling over the pounding music. It’s not the drinking, partying, or the sex that makes my core vibrate. It’s the masks that make my toes curl and make me want to combust.

I blink a few times as he infiltrates my senses, captivating people’s attention and making them feral.

I jolt when Grant grabs my hand, as if sensing my unease. “It’s alright, Summer.” He leans down so his mouth teases my ear. “Here, take this.”

My stomach curdles.

I fall into him, trying to regain my composure amidst the chaos, and he slips something into my mouth. My eyes widen and I stare up at him. He gives me a comforting nod, and I realize it’s a pill, which I swallow without thinking.

Shit…What was that?

My phone buzzes in my purse, and I pull it out. I squint, realizing that somehow I only have one bar, yet here he is.

SF’s name appears on the screen and a burst of satisfaction blooms inside me. I was wondering when he was going to make his presence known. Despite my intention to ignore his texts, I can’t help but read it.

SF: If he doesn’t take his hands off you, I will break his fingers, one by one.

I spew out a laugh, and Grant tilts his head at me as I freeze and stare down at my phone. The liquor from before blurs my ability to give a shit about him anymore. Let him squirm. Let him threaten me.