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The chainsaw’s roar sliced through the night, followed by a scream so raw it made Ava’s stomach twist. She hated this already. The air reeked of gasoline and something sour, like rotting meat and disinfectant. Flickering red emergency lights bathed the cracked pavement in pulses of color, casting long shadows across the line of waiting guests. The sound of a siren wailing inside the building sliced through her ears.
Ava’s breath hitched and her heart pounding against her ribcage. She swallowed, trying to loosen the knot of dread tightening in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she forced herself to stay. This was the moment she had to prove she wasn’t the scared girl JC thought she was. Even if it meant swallowing the panic rising like bile in her throat. She hesitated as the cold sweat prickled at her skin. The weight of loneliness pressed against her, insurmountable and a yet again a silent reminder of why she couldn’t back down now.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, voice tight.
“Come on, Ava,” JC said, already halfway to annoyed. He bounced on his heels like a kid waiting for recess. He was her on-again, off-again boyfriend, yet nights like this made her wonder why they ever bothered with the on. “You never want to do anything fun.”
JC’s impatience was a reminder of how little he really saw her. How little he really cared about her. She stayed with him because she didn’t have anyone else, and he was better than the silence.
“I just don’t think this is fun,” she muttered, hugging her arms around herself. The line crept forward as each step dragged her closer to the makeshift hospital’s entrance. The building loomed ahead; an old brick structure with boarded windows and a rusted ambulance parked sideways across the lot. A sign hung crooked above the door: Welcome to St. Dymphna’s Asylum: Infection Level Critical.
“It is going to be fun,” JC insisted, just as another scream rattled the throat of a girl ahead of them. Ava flinched.
“They can’t touch you anyway,” Chanel said breezily, then grinned. “I mean… unless you want them to.”
She waggled her eyebrows at Ava just as a blood-soaked nurse staggered past, dragging an IV pole with a severed hand still attached. Her scrubs were torn, and her face was smeared with something dark and wet. Ava couldn’t tell if it was corn syrup or something worse. Her stomach flipped and she gagged.
“Uh, no,” she shivered. The nurse turned her head slowly, locking eyes with Ava for a beat too long before moving on.
“It’s just acting,” Chanel continued, her smirk refusing to fade. “They’re all just playing a part.”
“And it’s Halloween!” JC added, clearly trying to rally enthusiasm. “What better way to spend the night than getting scared shitless?”
Ava could think of at least ten better ways to spend Halloween. Top of the list: curled up in her dorm room with fuzzy socks, a bowl of candy, and Hocus Pocus on repeat. No screaming. No blood. No JC.
She thought briefly of the girl in her Religious Studies class. Why was she pretending not to know her name? She’d been quietly obsessed for three years, orbiting her like a moon Ava could never quite land on.
Beatrice was always there, steady and unbothered, like the kind of person who didn’t flinch when the world got loud. Ava had noticed the way Beatrice’s eyes seemed to catch the light differently, like they held secrets just beneath the surface. Sometimes, when Beatrice thought no one was watching, she’d pause and stare into the distance. It was subtle, but it made Ava know that there had to be more to her than meets the eye.
“I’ll remind you of that when I take a picture of you after you’ve peed your pants,” Ava said, trying for levity. Her voice came out thinner than she’d hoped.
“Ava…”
“How many in your party?” the attendant asked, making Ava jump. His voice was casual, but the timing felt like a jump scare.
“Three,” JC answered quickly, handing over their tickets.
“Alright, you’re gonna follow that group right there,” the attendant said, pointing to a cluster of college kids already disappearing into the fog.
“Thanks,” JC muttered, pocketing the stubs.
Ava’s fingers twitched and goosebumps prickled her arms despite the hoodie she wore. The air had that sterile chill, like a place that used to be clean but had long since given up. The building loomed ahead, its entrance framed by flickering lanterns and the low hum of something mechanical, maybe a fog machine, maybe something worse. Probably a fog machine.
If she and JC were “on,” she could at least hold his hand and squeeze his fingers when the jump scares hit. But they weren’t.
She was with him because she didn’t have anyone else to spend Halloween with. How boring would it have been to stay hidden in her dorm room on what was supposed to be one of the most fun nights in her college career.
JC and Chanel was all she had. All she would probably ever have.
She shoved her hands deep into her pockets and bit her bottom lip, willing herself not to cry before the first monster even appeared.
“Good evening!” a half-bloodied man leapt out from behind a tree, triggering a ripple of screams through the small group Ava had been lumped into. He wore a mangled lab coat streaked with grime and fake blood, one sleeve torn clean off. His ID badge read Dr. Todd: Infection Control, though the only thing he seemed to control was chaos.
“We’re so glad you joined us tonight,” he said, grinning like a lunatic. “My name is Todd. Right through those gates, you’re going to encounter over fifty scare actors. And since we pay them to scare you, so you will get scared. Don’t want to get scared? Well, too fucking bad. You came to the wrong attraction.”
“Yeah, thanks JC,” Ava muttered.
“These actors are going to get loud. They’re going to get in your face. But they are not allowed to touch you. So please, for the love of whatever god you pray to, do not touch them.”
“Aw, too bad, Aves,” Chanel sighed dramatically. “I was hoping one of us would get some action out of this.”
Todd kept going, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m gonna ask that you stay close as a group. If one of you walks too fast, like this asshole right here because he’s too scared,” he pointed at JC, earning a round of laughter, “The rest of you will end up way behind, and you’ll miss half the haunts you paid for. Which fucking sucks.”
“Yeah, right,” JC mumbled, puffing out his chest like a frat boy trying to impress a bouncer.
“Now this part is very important,” Todd said, raising a finger. “If at any point during the trail you feel like you’re gonna piss yourself, shit yourself, or faint, just say the safe word: safety. Our actors will break character and escort you down the Hall of Shame to the exit, where you’ll wait for your friends to finish and make fun of you for being a little bitch. I’m still looking at you, asshole.”
He raised his eyebrows again, glaring at JC.
“He does not like you,” Chanel snorted.
“Ah, whatever. I’ll show him,” JC said, already posturing.
Suddenly, a second actor sprinted toward the group, glancing over his shoulder like something was chasing him. His hospital scrubs were soaked in fake blood, and his face was pale with panic.
“They’ve escaped!” he shouted. “All the infected from the ArqTech Corporation have broken containment!”
“Fucking shit,” Todd muttered. “They’re gonna come looking for us now.”
“No, they won’t,” the second actor said, eyes gleaming. “Not if we bring them offerings.”
“Don’t you mean if we find the cure?” Todd corrected.
“Is that not what I said?” The man turned to the group. “Dr. Salvias hid the cure at the end of this trail. All we have to do is survive until we get there.”
“No problem,” Todd said, shrugging.
“And if we don’t…” The second man grinned. “I know exactly what we can do.”
“Alright, folks,” Todd said, clapping his hands. “Follow Dr. Panic over there and keep up. Welcome to Containment: St. Dymphna’s Asylum. And remember, no touching, no crying, and no quitting.”
“I thought this was inside,” Ava whispered. “Did you seriously not read anything before buying these tickets?”
“Come on, stop being a wussy,” JC said, already following the group ahead.
“Keep going, keep going,” the actor urged, waving them forward. Ava watched as he took step after step into the woods, until finally, they were alone: just their group, the trees, and the distant sound of sirens.
“How do we know where to go?” she asked.
“We’re just gonna follow these people,” JC said.
“Well thank god we aren’t first,” Chanel muttered.
“You know what’s worse than being first?” JC asked.
“What?” Ava replied.
A loud, wet breathing sound filled the air. JC spun around and froze. A woman stood inches from him, her skin a mottled grey, eyes milky and unfocused. Her hospital gown hung in tatters, and Ava could swear she smelled rotting flesh radiating off her.
JC screeched and shoved Ava toward the side, his arm flailing in panic. She stumbled, her foot catching on a thick branch. She went down hard; her knees scraping against the dirt and palms stinging. By the time she looked up, her friends were already sprinting toward the front of the group, leaving her behind in the dark.
Before she could even push herself up, the monster dropped to her knees beside her.
“Are you okay?” the woman asked. The strobe lights overhead pulsed violently, burning into Ava’s eyes with each blink. She squeezed them shut, trying to steady her breath.
Ava blinked. The creature’s face was still painted in streaks of grey and black, but the eyes; there was something in them. Concern. Familiarity.
“I’m fine,” Ava muttered, clutching her now-swollen ankle.
The rest of the group had already surged ahead, swallowed by fog and flashing lights. She was alone. Except for this monster.
And something about her felt known.
Pain radiated up Ava’s leg, sharp and insistent. She inhaled deeply and let a string of curse words slip under her breath.
“I think you might’ve sprained it,” the woman said, rising to her feet and offering her hands. Ava hesitated, then slipped her fingers into the other woman’s warm palms. Her own hands went clammy with uncertainty. With practiced ease, the woman pulled her up too fast, and their bodies collided.
Ava’s breath caught. A heat growled low in her belly; one that definitely had nothing to do with her ankle.
Ava stared past the smeared makeup into a pair of brown eyes. The strobe lights made everything blur, but she swore she saw flecks of gold in her irises. She could’ve stared into them all night.
“Beatrice,” the woman introduced herself, taking a step away from the shorter woman.
“Ava, are you okay?” Beatrice repeated. “I’m going to take you to the med tent.”
“Hm?” Ava blinked, resisting the urge to reach up and brush a strand of hair from the other woman’s face.
“How do you know my name?”
“We have Religious Studies together,” Beatrice chuckled, wrapping an arm around Ava’s waist. “I spotted you and your boyfriend from a mile away. Though he’s a total ass. Both for pushing you down and leaving you for dead.”
“Not my boyfriend,” Ava said, limping beside her. “And I think he left me in more than capable hands.”
She smiled, flirtation curling at the edges of her voice.
Beatrice stumbled slightly, no injury to blame. Ava always made her feel like that, too bad she didn’t actually know she existed.
“Wait… Beatrice Young?” Ava said, the puzzle pieces clicking into place. Beatrice’s face flushed beneath the thick grey makeup. It was easier when Ava didn’t know who she was; easier to pretend she didn’t care.
“Your friend Lilith scares me,” Ava added. “She’s like a guard dog. Always around.”
“Yeah,” Beatrice chuckled. “She scares a lot of people. Too bad we won’t be there when JC runs into her.”
“She’s here too?”
“Yep,” Beatrice said, pushing aside a garbage bag curtain that served as the entrance to the makeshift med tent. “Come sit.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m fine,” Ava said, easing down.
“And I’m pretty sure you’re an art major, so you wouldn’t know,” Beatrice teased.
Ava paused.
“And you’re a biology major,” she said as Beatrice knelt and began unlacing her shoe. “Not sure that helps you here, but…”
“How did you?”
“I pay attention too,” Beatrice stood abruptly, the chair nearly tipping behind her. She moved toward the medical kit, mumbling, “I didn’t think you even knew I existed.”
“I see you, Beatrice,” Ava said softly. “I’ve always seen you.”
“Then why haven’t you ever said anything?”
“Because you always have your guard dog,” Ava said. “She scares me.”
“Lilith’s harmless.”
“Well, you know that but I didn’t. What if I’d come up to you and asked you out? How would she have responded?”
“She probably would’ve growled at you,” Beatrice chuckled, returning with an ACE bandage. She gently lifted Ava’s foot onto her lap, her fingers warm against the reddened skin. Her tongue poked out slightly as she focused on wrapping the bandage with quiet precision.
“She’s not here now,” Ava said, reaching forward to trace the outline of Beatrice’s cheek. Grey paint smudged beneath her touch.
“Yeah,” Beatrice murmured, distracted.
“So?”
“Is that too tight?” Beatrice asked, adjusting the wrap.
“Beatrice! I was asking you a question.”
“Sorry… what?”
“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” Ava asked, her fingers now tracing her own bottom lip.
“I’m starting to wonder if you hit your head.”
“I didn’t hit my head.”
“Maybe your fight-or-flight response—”
“Beatrice!” Ava laughed. “It’s not about falling. It’s about finally getting to talk to you. Alone. Let me take you out.”
“Really?” Beatrice said. “But I’m like… no one. And you’re captain of the soccer team and everything I’m not.”
“I’m just me,” Ava said. “Go out with me.”
“I would love that,” Beatrice said, her cheeks reddening and she bit her lip nervously. “How about now?”
“Aren’t you on shift?”
“No one’s going to notice if one actor disappears,” Beatrice said, reaching for her phone. “Let me just text Lilith.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Ava said, sliding off the seat. Pain shot up her leg as she put weight on her foot, and she winced, biting back a curse.
“Hey, hey, hey; let me help you,” Beatrice said, slipping her phone into her costume and rushing to Ava’s side. Her arm wrapped around Ava’s waist, firm and steady, like she’d done this before. Ava leaned into her without meaning to, her body betraying her with how badly it wanted to be held.
“You really don’t have to,” Ava murmured, her voice thinner than she meant.
“I want to,” Beatrice said simply. “I want to make sure you’re safe. You should be grateful I’m not carrying you…”
Ava’s face lit up, her brain instantly conjuring the image: Beatrice lifting her effortlessly, Ava’s arm around her neck, their faces inches apart. She could almost feel the heat of it: the pull, the collision, the kiss. Her stomach flipped.
She shook her head, trying to banish the thought. Evil. Dangerous. But oh so tempting.
Outside the tent, the night had settled into something quieter. The fog machines hissed in the distance, and the air smelled like damp leaves and cheap latex. Ava could hear faint screams echoing from the trail, but they felt far away now, like the chaos was behind her.
Everything tonight had been loud: JC’s ego, the strobe lights, the forced laughter. But this? With Beatrice’s arm around her waist, and the quiet steadiness of her strength, her warmth, and her kindness. It was the first thing that felt real all night. The first thing that felt real in a long time.
“Did you drive here?” Beatrice asked, her voice low and teasing.
“No,” Ava paused. “I have an idea.”
Beatrice raised an eyebrow, her grip tightening just slightly around Ava’s waist.
Ava’s grin turned wicked. “How do you feel about getting even before we go?”
Beatrice blinked, then laughed. “You want revenge?”
“I want justice,” Ava said. “JC left me in the dirt. I think it’s time he got a taste of what that feels like.”
Beatrice’s smile widened. “Well, I’d say I’d follow you anywhere, but…” She gave Ava’s hip a gentle squeeze, reminding her she was still holding her up, still ready to catch her if she fell. “I think I’ll lead the way. This time.”
Ava looked at her, really looked. The smeared makeup, the flecks of gold in her eyes, the way her mouth curled when she smiled. She felt something shift in her chest. Something warm yet Something terrifying.
Beatrice tried to focus on Ava’s limp, on keeping her steady, but her brain kept short-circuiting every time Ava leaned into her. She’d spent months pretending Ava didn’t know she existed. Now she was holding her like she never wanted to let go.
Ava wasn’t sure what she wanted more: revenge, or another excuse to stay close to Beatrice.
Maybe both.
JC stood by his car, pacing like a man who’d just survived a war. His shirt clung to him with sweat, his phone lit up with unanswered texts, and he kept glancing toward the exit like Chanel might materialize and rescue him from his own cowardice.
She wouldn’t. She’d left twenty minutes ago, bored and unimpressed, muttering something about finding someone with a spine.
JC hadn’t noticed Ava was missing. Not until the adrenaline wore off and the silence settled in.
“Where the hell is she?” he muttered, unlocking the car. The headlights blinked once. He exhaled like it was over.
It wasn’t.
From behind a row of parked cars, Ava crouched low, her wrapped ankle throbbing but her grin feral. The pavement was cold beneath her palms, and the fog curling around her legs felt like fingers dragging her forward. Beside her, Beatrice stood tall, still in costume, and eyes gleaming beneath smeared grey paint. Her breath came out in slow puffs, visible in the chill.
“You ready?” Beatrice whispered.
Ava nodded. “Let’s ruin his night.”
They crept forward, using the fog rolling in from a nearby machine as cover. Lilith had triggered it early as her parting gift. The parking lot was dim, the air damp and metallic, and JC was too busy scrolling to notice the shadows closing in.
Beatrice moved first, dragging her IV pole across the pavement with a metallic screech that echoed like a scream. JC jumped, spinning around, his phone nearly slipping from his hand.
“What the!”
Beatrice stepped into the light, voice low and guttural. “She’s been infected.”
JC blinked, confused, until Ava emerged from the fog behind her.
Her face was streaked with grey and red, fake blood trailing from her temple. Her eyes were wide, vacant, and her actual limp exaggerated as she dragged one foot behind her. She looked like something half-dead and hungry.
Beatrice tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “You left her behind.”
Beatrice took one step closer. “She’s mine now.”
JC screamed; a full-bodied, high-pitched shriek that echoed off the parked cars. He scrambled into his car, hands shaking as he fumbled with the keys and fell into the seat.
“You never deserved her,” Beatrice said, slipping out of character.
JC flipped her off through the car window a split second before his engine roared to life, and he peeled out of the lot so fast his tires squealed. His headlights cut through the fog like a spotlight on his shame.
Ava burst out laughing, her ankle forgotten for a moment. The sound was sharp, bright, and cathartic. Beatrice dropped character beside her, doubled over in laughter, her hand brushing Ava’s shoulder for balance.
They stood there, breathless, watching the fog settle.
“Okay,” Ava said, wiping a smear of paint from her cheek. “That was worth it.”
Beatrice grinned. “You were terrifying.”
“You bring it out of me.”
They walked slowly toward Beatrice’s car, parked near the edge of the lot. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by something quieter. The night was still, the haunt behind them humming faintly like a dream they’d already left.
Beatrice opened the passenger door for Ava, but she didn’t climb in. She turned instead, leaning against the side of the car, her breath visible in the cold.
Beatrice joined her, their shoulders brushing together.
“You didn’t have to say that,” Ava murmured. “About him not being good enough.”
“I meant it,” Beatrice said.
Ava noticed the smeared makeup, golden flecks in her eyes, and her unique smile. Her heart pounded.
Beatrice reached out, her voice gentler now. “I just didn’t want him to think he could hurt you again.”
The words hung between them, more vulnerable than Ava expected. She looked at Beatrice, searching her eyes for something steady in the swirl of the night.
“I’m still falling,” Ava whispered.
Beatrice’s breath caught.
“For me?” she stammered, her voice wavering with disbelief.
Ava nodded.
There was no music. No dramatic lighting. Just the cool October air and the sound of their hearts trying to catch up.
Ava leaned in, slow and uncertain as her fingers curling into the fabric of Beatrice’s costume. It was rough beneath her touch, stiff with fake blood and sweat, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t reaching for the costume; she was reaching for her.
Beatrice met her halfway; her hand finding Ava’s wrist like it belonged there, like it had been waiting all night for this exact moment. Her grip was gentle but sure, grounding Ava in the here and now.
The kiss was soft. A little shaky, but real. The kind that made Ava forget how long she’d been limping, how long she’d been invisible. Beatrice’s lips were warm, tasting faintly of fog and adrenaline, and Ava felt herself melt into it, into her.
Beatrice’s fingers tightened, anchoring her. Ava’s hand slid to the curve of Beatrice’s jaw, thumb brushing the edge of her ear, tracing the line where makeup met skin. She could feel Beatrice’s pulse there, fast and fluttering.
The fog swirled around them, thick and slow, a curtain drawn by ghosts. Somewhere in the distance, a scream echoed from the haunt, high-pitched and theatrical, but it felt miles away. Here, in this pocket of quiet, there was only breath and heartbeat and the soft press of lips.
When they pulled apart, neither spoke for a moment. Ava’s chest rose and fell like she’d just surfaced from underwater. Beatrice’s forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing, breath mingling in the cold.
Ava blinked, dazed. “I didn’t think you’d kiss me back.”
Beatrice gave a soft, breathless laugh. “I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”
Ava pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I do now.”
Ava leaned her head against Beatrice’s shoulder, the cold metal of the car behind her, the warmth of Beatrice beside her.
Then Beatrice said, “You’re still terrifying.”
Ava smiled. “You infected me.”
Beatrice laughed, her forehead resting briefly against Ava’s. “Guess I’ll have to monitor your symptoms.”
Ava leaned her head against Beatrice’s shoulder, the cold metal of the car behind her, the warmth of Beatrice beside her.
“I don’t want this night to end,” Ava whispered.
Beatrice’s voice was quiet. “Then let’s make sure it’s the start of something.”
They climbed into the car simultaneously. As soon as Beatrice put the car in drive, Ava reached across the console and grabbed her hand, holding it tightly in her lap.
Ava smiled, her voice barely above a whisper. “You said I was yours.”
Beatrice’s breath caught. “I meant it... I mean, if you want to be.”
Ava dropped a kiss to her hand, a smile sharp enough to leave a bite.
“I mean, I am infected, so it looks like you’re stuck with me.” Her fingers squeezed tighter. “And there’s nowhere else I would rather be.”
Outside, the fog began to thin, curling away from the pavement like a curtain reluctantly drawn. The haunt behind them faded into silence.
Ava’s hand stayed in hers, even when the fog cleared.
Beatrice glanced down at their hands, then back at Ava. “Careful. You keep saying things like that, and I might never let you go.”
Her voice softened. “I’ve been invisible for so long. You made me feel seen.”
Ava leaned over, resting her head gently against Beatrice’s shoulder. “I promise to never stop looking.”
Beatrice didn’t answer, but she held Ava’s hand tighter. The car rolled forward, fog curling in its wake like a ghost reluctant to let go. But Ava didn’t watch it disappear. Her eyes stayed on Beatrice, a smile ghosting across her lips.
Beatrice had promised to keep seeing her, and for the first time, Ava believed in something.
She believed in her.