Winston groaned to himself as he followed the directions. He knew that the invitation to join them to the haunted house had been more of an afterthought. Even though it had been Jessie who gave him the invite, the nagging impression was there nonetheless. It was described to him as the perfect Halloween night: a stop at a haunted house before a night of partying at a local club. It did sound good, but only because Jessie had invited him did he accept. When he pulled off the street and down a back alley he was less than impressed. He stopped in a parking area with some other cars, but there were far less than he would have expected for such a great place as this was suppose to be. As he looked around, all he saw were the backs and sides of old warehouses. His group of friends was already there, waiting around a car, and waved as he got out of his own vehicle.
The instant he spotted them, and looked down at his own costume his feeling became a confirmation. The entire group of nine people were all dressed liked mimes. They all wore unique types of clothing, but they were all black and white striped, and their faces were all painted in street performer fashion. His Zorro costume made him suddenly very uncomfortable and he reddened behind his mask.
Jessie hurried out to intercept him as they rest prepared to enter. Winston slowed as she approached and took in the sight of her. She had always been a beauty in his eyes, and an object of lust on more than one occasion. At five foot nine, she was only a couple of inches shorter than himself. Both were lithe and fit, only Jessie filled out slightly more in the chest. It had been often commented that they looked more of a couple than their actually partners. Ex-partners, actually. Winston had broken up with Jennifer several months before, and Jessie’s painful split with Ted happened only a few weeks back. Jennifer was a pretty girl, with a great body, but was hardly much taller than five feet. And Ted was barely able to look his ex-girlfriend in the eye, and his pudgy frame seemed out of place next to her lean one. It was funny how things worked out, Winston thought as he stopped in front of her.
”You look great, Win,” Jessie said as she smiled at him. “All dashing and romantic.” Winston liked the way her small mouth and thin lips moved across her narrow, pixie face. She was also the only person in the world that could get away with calling him Win.
”You look great too,” Winston smiled back as he looked her up and down. Dressed in a light skirt that stopped at mid-thigh, and a spaghetti-stringed halter top that clung to her upper body like a second skin, she must have decided to take advantage of the uncharacteristically warm Autumn evening. Where she had found either with matching black and white stripes was beyond him. He always liked her choice of shirts. She preferred ones that clung to her body, low cut at the top, and short enough to show teasing glimpses of her smooth, flat midriff when she moved. He also got a great view down the scoop top of her shirt as she moved closer. “You didn’t tell me we were going to a mime convention.”
”Yeah, sorry about that Win. It was Rick’s idea, but he kinda forgot you were coming until it was too late. I hope you’re not upset.”
”Come on you guys,” someone yelled from the group as they moved off. It seemed that Winston and Jessie were the odd singles out, and were being paired off arbitrarily as the other couples locked arms.
”I don’t mind,” Winston lied as they headed off. He glanced over at his companion and his eyes landed on the smooth skin of Jessie’s slender legs and quickly moved up over her narrow waist to the swell of the tops of her breasts that jiggled slightly with her movements. She looked strange with the heavy black and white make-up, but expertly applied somehow it seemed to enhance her thin, sharp features.
”So, where is everyone else?” he asked finally as she guided him towards a stark, grey building.
”The tickets are timed, so things don’t get bogged down. I think they stagger groups every half hour.”
”I thought we were going to a haunted
house
.” Jessie only smiled.
”You’ll see.”
Winston allowed her to walk slightly ahead of him as he watched her profile move from the back. She had a sexy back, he thought, then shook his head as his quickened his pace to catch up. She led them towards the single back door where a man in a cheap tuxedo suit stood guard. He looked foppish, and a little small with the tails, but stood at rigid attention. Some of the girls giggled while their boyfriends made crude remarks at the doorman while they handed off their tickets. Winston looked away sheepishly as Jessie gave the man their tickets. With a quick glance, he pulled the creaking door open for the group.
They were washed over with a wave of heat and light and smell as they entered the foyer. It was a large room, extravagantly decorated to mimic a Victorian parlor with rich furniture and tapestries, crystal and gold knick-knacks and classical music playing in the background. An elegant chandelier hung from the ceiling, the dozens of candles casting a warm light across the scene. It was certainly something he never expected from the entrance to a haunted house.
Another man approached them, dressed in a sharp butler uniform. He was an older man, and mostly bald, and stood as stiff as a board.
”Welcome to the Mansion of the late Sir Victor Thomilson,” he said in a thick, formal voice as he looked the couples over. “Feel free to have a good look around, but I warn you, Sir Victor was not a pleasant man, and we here at the mansion call it the House of Terrors!” He rolled out the last words and Jessie could not help but to giggle, as did many of the others. Watching them with creepy, wide eyes, he opened the single door and waited for them to pass through before slamming it shut.
They found themselves in a black corridor. It was narrow so that standing side by side, a couple could feel the rough walls brush their outer arms. Dim light shone from both sides at various intervals from opened rooms and the corridor seemed to bend ahead. Winston and Jessie ended up at the back, which suited Winston fine. He didn’t care much for many of the others, and was more then happy to spend the time with her. Smiling to his companion, Winston gestured forward and started down the hall.
The first opened area to their right was a small room with an open casket. Inside was a cheap fake body that made them both laugh when the head moved and it let out a moan. Moving on, they passed by several more rooms with the same type of décor. They saw severed limbs, and bloody jars, and instruments of torture. Everything they expected to see in a horror house expect for something horrifying. They would have settled for a little scary, even. The men in the group obviously felt the same as they did and began to grumble and complain about the “retarded” and “lame” surroundings.
As they continued on, the corridor only made right turns, and the halls became shorter and shorter as the made their way towards the centre of the building. All through, Winston and Jessie made quieter wise ass comments to themselves and tried to ignore the rowdier, louder group as they looked upon the cheesy horrors and relics of the late Sir Victor.
Turning a corner, Jessie suddenly screamed with such verbosity that the mimes ahead spun around and Winston jumped back into the wall only to have himself slammed into as Jessie flung herself into his body. His heart was pounding almost as badly as hers as he slowly put his arms around her trembling form. Looking over her shoulder, he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, then laughing out loud as he saw the occasional flicker of light illuminate a very realistic and grisly severed head. When Jessie heard him laughing, she pushed herself away and looked at the rotting head. With an indignant huff, she turned her nose up and looked sheepishly at still laughing Winston.