Page 6 of My Mountain Man Rescuer

It almost made me pause and wonder why security required this, but I didn’t. Curious, but not asking any questions, I obeyed. Once I passed through without the detector beeping, I received my phone and camera.

“You’re press, right?”

I nodded. “Yes. Local paper in Ohio. My boss emailed yours.”

“Yeah, Greg told me earlier. Keep the photos focused on the attraction. No exploring. Keep moving through until you reach the exit.”

“Yes, sir.” I almost saluted him but decided my sarcasm wouldn’t win him over.

The strobe light was the first thing I noticed as I rounded the corner. A fog machine made visibility a bit poor. I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until someone stood in front of me. A staff member dressed as Jason from Friday the 13th waved me forward. He held a bloodied axe and lunged toward me at the last second.

I gasped and ran to the right, escaping him as I rushed up a small set of stairs and into the front room of Blood Moon Manor. Chains rattled over the speakers as I walked slowly, lifting my camera to take a few shots of the elaborate scenes and detailed costumes. Blood, gore, and the occasional jump scare kept me alert. My heart pounded in my chest as I smiled.

Halloween and haunted houses never failed to thrill me.

I made a face as I passed through the kitchen, trying not to stare at the pots filled with body parts or look at the deranged man in a chef’s apron chopping up a body on the table that cried and wriggled with agony. Entrails spilled from an overturned bucket. Something scurried by my feet and I shrieked. The man didn’t look up, focused on his work. Blood spurted as he hacked away at his prey’s limbs, and I rushed by him while my heart hammered in my chest.

This was fantastic!

I had to remind myself to take photos often. My camera could handle the dark and low lighting. I knew which setting to use at night to get the best images. Whenever possible, I zoomed in on certain scenes and the actors, loving the vibe inside this haunted house. One of the best I’d ever visited.

Sometime later, I got stuck behind a group that huddled together. They were terrified of the lab we entered and the jars of specimens, the evil doctor cackling as he used two paddles to electrocute a man on a gurney. Slime oozed down one of the walls, and eerie green lights illuminated the creepy scene. Lights flashed as zombies moved toward us. Everyone in the group ahead of me screamed as I giggled.

Couldn’t help it. I guess I didn’t have a normal response to being afraid.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I turned my head, staring into the eyes of a Ghostface mask. The guy wasn’t moving. He just stood there, staring into my eyes with his hand resting on my shoulder.

I blinked at him, wondering what he planned.

His hand lifted, showing a black glove. When he reached for my hair and tucked it behind my ear, I shivered. Something about his posture and the low grunt in response seemed to express he liked that. He stared at me for a few more seconds and whispered in a deep, growly tone, “Stay quiet.” Then he dropped his hand and ran after the screaming crowd in front of me.

Weird.

By the time I caught up with the group, they looked terrified. One of the guys was trying to get everyone else to follow him to the exit. The layout of the haunted house led us through the main floor, upstairs to a second floor, then the third, then down a steep set of stairs until we plunged into the basement level with a jail from hell, then up to the lab before finally heading out to the backyard.

The group talked over each other and seemed jittery in a way that had nothing to do with the haunted house or its scares.

“I don’t see Sherry.”

“Me either.”

A tall guy with dark hair shook his head. “What if the serial killer took her?”

Wait. Serial killer? What did he mean?

“I don’t know,” one of the girls wailed. “I’m scared.”

“If it’s him, and he’s here, we need to get the fuck out. Now.”

No one said another word as they stumbled and rushed toward the exit.

But I didn’t follow them. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed Dale’s number.

He answered right away. “You hear about the killer yet?”

Annoyed, I moved farther away from the house so I wouldn’t disturb anyone with my call. It was dark and quieter away from the speakers. I could hear better. “You didn’t think I should know about that before you sent me here?”

“And ruin the authentic experience and shock of finding out? Won’t that make your article more interesting?”