into a party chock-full of folks who I don’t know,
who all know each other. It is my socially awkward woman version of hell on
earth.
He grinned and then he leaned in and kissed me. Right on the
mouth. I let him, too, parting my lips for his warm tongue to stroke over mine.
I shivered a little from the electricity of that kiss and when he pulled back
he said, “I know you’re lying. I know you were thinking dirty things about me.”
“I—” I shook my head. I wasn’t even going to finish that
sentence. Even I couldn’t lie about it anymore.
He grinned and pushed the front door open.
* * * * *
It was some dipshit named Ted who opened the box. Patrick,
the new owner of the old house, had led everyone down into the basement. It was
an old, old, old basement with a semi-dirt floor and low ceilings and hooks on
the walls, and let’s face it, it was pretty much an instant horror movie set,
just add fake blood and screaming bimbo. So Ted, who’d had his share of spirits
for the evening—the kind that live in a bottle—had taken a shine to me.
Something that I found horribly annoying and Sean found immensely amusing.
It was Ted who yelled, “Hey, Van, baby, look at this old
thing!” And snicked the lock back and pried the box wide.
Before it was actually open, someone said, “There’s symbols
carved all over it maybe you shouldn’t…”
Yeah, but see, just like in the movies, that never works. Someone
always has to open the bad box or the wardrobe or do the spell because they
think it’s all horseshit or fake.
So when Ted pried open the box we all waited and…nothing.
“Wow, that’s spiffy, Ted,” I said and Ted grinned. Ted had
apparently never heard of sarcasm.
But Sean laughed softly and put his hand on the small of my
back. I turned really fast and pressed against him and kissed him. I did it so
fast because I wanted to, but turned back so fast because then I could pretend
I hadn’t done it.
But Sean yanked me in when I tried to turn and put his hands
in my hair. It was sappy movie romantic and yes, it worked. I turned to girl
goo in his nice, buff arms and let him kiss me so hard my knees turned to jelly
and I gasped like some romance book heroine.
“Ted’s not the only one who’s enamored of you,” Sean said
against my cheek.
Then the big shadow came swooping up out of the box
and…well, it ate Ted. At least we were pretty sure it did.
Pandemonium.
Ever seen it happen? I have. Just at that moment, a whole
horde of drunken people made for the rickety stairs as if they could all mount
them at once. The steps were the old-fashioned wooden slat ones. Unfinished.
The creepy kind of steps, you know what I mean. The back of each step is open,
so you could totally imagine some cold, clammy hand reaching through there and
grabbing your ankle. And then it would drag you to your untimely death in the
smelly, dusty basement. Those kind of steps.
The third person who hit the middle of the staircase lived
that nightmare. A hand made of black smoke and pure intent snagged that girl—a
little blonde dressed as a cheerleader for our Halloween festivities—and
yanked. I watched her fight like hell, but she was pulled through the narrow
space of the stairs in no time at all. Not pretty. Trust me.
“Move,” Sean said in my ear and started the policeman
shuffle. He hustled me off to the left, to what appeared to be another door as
the swell and crush of bodies parted and folks started making their way for
other exits or offshoots of the basement.
He pushed me into a narrow nook that held the boiler. Thank
god it wasn’t cold enough for the boiler to be used yet, or it would have been
a tad toasty in there.
“Oh my holy shit, what the fuck was that?” I was babbling. I
thumbed my cell phone and the screen said out of range…out of range .
“Don’t know, but it looked like smoke. So—“ He was glancing
around wildly.
“So? So! So what? You can’t just say that and then leave me
hanging
who all know each other. It is my socially awkward woman version of hell on
earth.
He grinned and then he leaned in and kissed me. Right on the
mouth. I let him, too, parting my lips for his warm tongue to stroke over mine.
I shivered a little from the electricity of that kiss and when he pulled back
he said, “I know you’re lying. I know you were thinking dirty things about me.”
“I—” I shook my head. I wasn’t even going to finish that
sentence. Even I couldn’t lie about it anymore.
He grinned and pushed the front door open.
* * * * *
It was some dipshit named Ted who opened the box. Patrick,
the new owner of the old house, had led everyone down into the basement. It was
an old, old, old basement with a semi-dirt floor and low ceilings and hooks on
the walls, and let’s face it, it was pretty much an instant horror movie set,
just add fake blood and screaming bimbo. So Ted, who’d had his share of spirits
for the evening—the kind that live in a bottle—had taken a shine to me.
Something that I found horribly annoying and Sean found immensely amusing.
It was Ted who yelled, “Hey, Van, baby, look at this old
thing!” And snicked the lock back and pried the box wide.
Before it was actually open, someone said, “There’s symbols
carved all over it maybe you shouldn’t…”
Yeah, but see, just like in the movies, that never works. Someone
always has to open the bad box or the wardrobe or do the spell because they
think it’s all horseshit or fake.
So when Ted pried open the box we all waited and…nothing.
“Wow, that’s spiffy, Ted,” I said and Ted grinned. Ted had
apparently never heard of sarcasm.
But Sean laughed softly and put his hand on the small of my
back. I turned really fast and pressed against him and kissed him. I did it so
fast because I wanted to, but turned back so fast because then I could pretend
I hadn’t done it.
But Sean yanked me in when I tried to turn and put his hands
in my hair. It was sappy movie romantic and yes, it worked. I turned to girl
goo in his nice, buff arms and let him kiss me so hard my knees turned to jelly
and I gasped like some romance book heroine.
“Ted’s not the only one who’s enamored of you,” Sean said
against my cheek.
Then the big shadow came swooping up out of the box
and…well, it ate Ted. At least we were pretty sure it did.
Pandemonium.
Ever seen it happen? I have. Just at that moment, a whole
horde of drunken people made for the rickety stairs as if they could all mount
them at once. The steps were the old-fashioned wooden slat ones. Unfinished.
The creepy kind of steps, you know what I mean. The back of each step is open,
so you could totally imagine some cold, clammy hand reaching through there and
grabbing your ankle. And then it would drag you to your untimely death in the
smelly, dusty basement. Those kind of steps.
The third person who hit the middle of the staircase lived
that nightmare. A hand made of black smoke and pure intent snagged that girl—a
little blonde dressed as a cheerleader for our Halloween festivities—and
yanked. I watched her fight like hell, but she was pulled through the narrow
space of the stairs in no time at all. Not pretty. Trust me.
“Move,” Sean said in my ear and started the policeman
shuffle. He hustled me off to the left, to what appeared to be another door as
the swell and crush of bodies parted and folks started making their way for
other exits or offshoots of the basement.
He pushed me into a narrow nook that held the boiler. Thank
god it wasn’t cold enough for the boiler to be used yet, or it would have been
a tad toasty in there.
“Oh my holy shit, what the fuck was that?” I was babbling. I
thumbed my cell phone and the screen said out of range…out of range .
“Don’t know, but it looked like smoke. So—“ He was glancing
around wildly.
“So? So! So what? You can’t just say that and then leave me
hanging
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