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Meet me at the festival in the abandoned building for our yearly game of escape. And perhaps there will be a kiss or two at the stroke of midnight. Play fair this year.
Forever yours,
Adrian
Bronwyn stroked the letter over and over with a smile. Adrian had given it to her a few nights ago before he left, and he just knew how to tickle her fancy. Today was the day—Mardi Gras—their yearly event.
The oven beeped, and she set the letter on the table beside Adrian’s other gift. She strolled to the stove and opened the door to a rush of heat. The king cake looked perfect with the right amount of brown coloring, not too dark, not too light—it would be quite an image.
After setting it down to cool, Bronwyn figured she had waited long enough to open the box that had accompanied Adrian’s note. Inside rested a green Mardi Gras mask with purple and gold feathers rising from the center in between the eyes. She took out the next gift—a dress of green silk, adorned with pearl buttons down the center, that fell just above the knees. Two secret pockets were hidden along the sides. She loved pockets.
She, Adrian, and their seven friends would be playing an annual game in a matter of hours, and her fingers tapped her lip in anticipation. Last year, Adrian had won the escape room game—but Bronwyn vowed that it would be her this year.
It was more fun than any game she’d ever played, better than Clue or Monopoly, because only the nine of them participated and no one else.
Bronwyn hummed under her breath as she gathered the decorations for the king cake. Her heart wanted to burst with excitement over the small gift she’d baked inside for Adrian.
When the clock struck six, she was already dressed and ready to go downtown. The mask she chose to set on top of the cake box, which was itself piled atop the special dish. As part of their tradition, each of her friends had to bring one. Picking up the whole lot, she walked to the car and loaded the goodies inside.
Most would pick Christmas or possibly Halloween as their favorite day of the year, but hers was the first day of Mardi Gras. It was the one night where she truly felt free.
While Bronwyn drove downtown, she stared at the buildings. New Orleans had a special architecture, and a lovely and eccentric group of people. There were the superstitions such as the roots in Voodoo and the famous voodoo queen, Marie Laveau, then there was the history that held so much emotion, the traditions—such as Mardi Gras. The diversity and the creativity here, she felt that no other place quite matched up. Watching people eat beignets from Café du Monde was one of her favorite pastimes. The one downfall to the city was sometimes the unpleasant smells in certain parts—urine, too many cigarettes, and vomit.
It was still early, but not too early for drunks. Two drivers had already swerved in front of her as she passed them, and another nearly crashed into her car. She hated driving, rarely ever did it.
As she turned down a couple of streets, the Mardi Gras floats slipped into view. They were always strange, a wonderful kind of weird. One appeared to be a bright emerald dragon, sprouting wings of gold and violet, with an even darker tongue of purple poking out. Another was a woman, almost sea nymph-like—lavender and gold flowers woven in her yellow hair as she pressed her lips to a crimson flute. Bronwyn caught the third before moving on to the next street—a laughing jester wearing a blue hat with silver jingle bells. It held out something similar to a rattle, the top resembling a baby jester head.
Bronwyn knew locals were tossing plastic beads, toys, candy, and more to the tourists, who acted as if they were catching gold. Perhaps it was better than gold to them, at least for these few days.
She drew closer to a street sign, announcing the location of the escape room. Bronwyn took a left and parked the car on the side near the curb, then dropped a few coins into the parking meter. Opening the passenger side door, she placed the feathered mask over her face and grabbed the cake box and the covered silver dish.
The buildings on this side of the street were mostly abandoned, so only a few people passed her as she walked up to the front door. The smell of piss permeated the air and she wrinkled her nose in disgust—it always reeked of the foul odor in this area.
Background noises tickled her ears—a cheering in the distance, the rumbles of the floats moving. A red door, with chipped paint and the number 204 scrawled in black marker, greeted her. On the entrance hung a large, vibrant wreath decorated in purple and white plaid ribbons linked with other gold and green mesh. In the middle lay a plastic baby, about the size of a newborn.
Bronwyn had never understood the point of the baby. Yes, he was meant to represent the baby Jesus and how he first entered the world, but why stuff him in cake and plaster him on other things? Curious, indeed. She held Adrian’s cake closer to her chest, already anticipating his expression when the clock struck midnight.
Careful not to drop the food, Bronwyn gave a shallow knock at the door, then tapped the melody that only Adrian and their friends knew.
The door swung open, and there stood Adrian. The hazel eyes behind his disguise complimented his warm brown skin and wavy black hair. A mask similar to hers hid the top portion of his face, except his was covered in gold and white feathers. Her gaze drifted to his purple button-up shirt, black vest, and slacks, then ventured back up to his face.
Everyone generally put their masks on at the stroke of midnight to celebrate the occasion, but Adrian and Bronwyn always came early to reveal themselves to each other before the others joined.
“I baked a surprise inside the cake for you,” Bronwyn said as she stepped into the room. “But you’ll have to wait until midnight to retrieve it.”
Adrian rubbed his hands together as he peered down at the cake. “Can’t wait.”
Balloons filled the room across the ceiling. Streamers intertwined against the rail of both staircases leading to the second floor. Ceramic masks with painted faces hung on the walls, and colorful paper squares were scattered on the tile.
The main area sat empty except for a long oval table in the center, surrounded by nine chairs. A green cloth lay draped over the table, and a diamond-shaped purple and gold runner was pushed across. From the ceiling dangled a Mardi Gras beaded chandelier.
“Wow. Simon really outdid himself this year.” Bronwyn headed toward the dining area.
“He says he needs to outdo himself every year.”
“Well, he certainly did,” she said, placing the food items on the table beside another silver covered dish that Adrian had brought.
Adrian leaned over her, caging her in. “My, my.” He grinned while peering down at her hands. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I just followed the instructions.” Bronwyn’s voice came out breathy as he pressed his nose into the crook of her neck. Her heart fluttered at the sensual touch. “I thought you said in the note I’d have to wait until midnight for a kiss.” She tilted her head farther to the right, allowing him better access. “Or two.”
“Who said anything about kissing just yet?” With gentle hands, Adrian slowly removed the mask from her face and tossed it to the table.
Bronwyn whirled around and caged Adrian, this time, against the wall. Almost as gingerly as he had, she took the mask from his face, and inspected the curve of his jaw, the high cheekbones, the shallow lines at the edges of his eyes. Her gaze locked onto his hazel irises—her favorite part of him.
“You’re always beautiful,” Adrian whispered. Before she could return the compliment, he grabbed her by the waist and easily hoisted her up, his mask falling from her hand. Letting out an anxious sound, Bronwyn wrapped her legs around his sturdy torso.
Adrian caressed a tendril of her dark brown hair around his fingertip. “We have plenty of time until the others get here.”
Bronwyn inspected the room, which was lacking any sort of soft furniture. “As usual, there’s not a bed.”
“But there are the stairs,” he murmured in her ear.
She brushed her middle finger across his plump lower lip. “Or the floor.”
“Or the table.”
The table was a perfect idea. She reached for the buttons at the front of her silk dress and undid one at a time while he held her up, finally exposing her full breasts. Adrian groaned low as he lowered her body on top of the table.
“Just watch out for the cake,” she purred as he unzipped his pants, then pressed his weight on top of her. Adrian’s hand cradled her breast, his thumb stroking her hard nipple. She moaned as his fingers drifted to between her thighs. With a sexy grin, he captured her mouth in a fierce kiss.
They then had their way with each other not only on the table, but also against the wall near the stairs, where the eyeless masks were their only audience.
The coded knock came right after they had straightened themselves out. It had already grown dark outside when they opened the door, and a clock indicated it was already after ten. Quinn and Theo arrived first. Quinn’s hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and Theo had put gold glitter into his dark beard. Next came Owen, then Aggie, and finally Hollis, Yan, and Simon.
All of them had known each other since they were young. Their town had been small, so they’d learned to lean on one another and make do.
Simon and Yan were the last to set their silver platters on the table.
“Why does it smell like sex in here?” Yan asked, pushing a dark lock of her bobbed hair behind her ear.
Adrian exchanged a glance with Bronwyn, his smirk mirroring hers.
Simon let out a loud groan. “Just please tell me you two didn’t exchange fluids on the table ... again.”
Bronwyn didn’t answer, but let out a low whistle and focused her gaze on the beaded chandelier.
“Oh, they did!” Aggie scrunched up her small nose.
“I won’t deny it,” Adrian finally said.
“On to more important matters.” Simon withdrew a piece of paper from the pocket of his jacket and placed it on the table so everyone could see. “These are the rules. As always, you’ll split into pairs, which makes four groups. I’ll be down here and all doors will remain locked until 11:45.”
“Besides the room you start in, you’ll have to cross through four others. The final door leading to the other set of stairs is your exit.”
“Agreed,” everyone said simultaneously.
“Now.” Simon slid his bag across the table and opened it. “You will each get a flashlight. Make sure to keep hold of it, or things may become too difficult.”
“Wow,” Owen chimed in. “You really sound like you should do this professionally.”
“Perhaps I should.” Simon shoved a flashlight at Owen’s chest. “Don’t drop it.”
He handed one to Hollis and she flicked it on and off, verifying it worked, then the rest of the group did the same. This little beam of light was the only tool they would have to start—no one could have cell phones or any other personal items for the hour they would have to play. It was the perfect tradition.
“Ready?” Yan asked, an anxious grin on her face as she took her first step on the staircase.
“Just hold your horses,” Simon said, pushing himself to the front of the line. “Now, let’s go.”
Bronwyn followed behind Yan, with Adrian right at her back while they ascended the spiral staircase. There were no windows, and everything had been sealed up and soundproofed. If they desired to, they could shout as loud as they wanted without the police being called.
Adrian and Bronwyn had shouted one another’s names during their earlier romp to see who could outdo the other—she’d won.
The two main exits of the building were both located on the first floor: one in the front, and the other in the back. Both were now locked, and Simon held the device to unseal all the doors.
At the top of the stairs, purple, gold, and green streamers lined the ceiling. Small plastic babies, Mardi Gras coins, and feathers were pasted to the walls.
“Seriously, how long did you spend getting these tiny coins on the wall?” Owen asked, his expression incredulous.
From everything Bronwyn was seeing, it must have taken a long while.
“A bit.” Simon ran a finger across two of the coins.
“You need to get a good fuck,” Owen said.
Simon arched a brow at Owen. “Are you offering?”
Bronwyn pressed a hand at her temple and ignored the on-and-off lovers’ quarrel between Owen and Simon. She assumed they were off by the way Simon shot him the finger over something.
Adrian curled his arm around Bronwyn’s waist and whispered against her ear. “Are you scared?”
“No”—she relaxed her back against his chest—“are you?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Scared you’ll win this year.”
She smirked and gave him a soft shove. “If I win, I know exactly what I’m going to have you do.”
Just as Adrian was going to respond, Simon asked, “Ready?”
Four doors painted half purple and half green opened via the gadget in Simon’s hands. Hollis and Yan stepped through the first door, then Quinn and Owen into the next room, followed by Aggie and Theo, and finally Adrian and Bronwyn went into the last.
“Wait for the flashing light,” Simon said, “because I’ll be watching you if you cheat. See you all in about an hour. On the count of three. One, two, three.” And the heavy doors shut, giving a soft rumble throughout the second floor, the locks clicking into place.
The room they started in was small. Purple and gold diamonds covered the walls, and a row of wooden panels accented the lower half. The only other thing besides the door across from them was a metal box hanging next to a ticking clock. Five minutes remained before the game would start.
“So.” Adrian leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his wavy hair brushing his eyebrows. “What do you want to talk about for the next five minutes?”
“You tell me.” Bronwyn smiled, already plotting her first move—for the metal box.
Kicking off from the wall, he sauntered toward her and clasped her hand. He brought her inner wrist to his lips, his hazel eyes never leaving hers. “How about after tonight, we fly across the world?”
“Iceland.” Bronwyn lifted their hands and twirled Adrian in a circle. A deep chuckle escaped his mouth.
“Then Russia.” He gave her a bow.
She curtsied in return and thought of tea. “Then Japan.”
“Then Antarctica.”
She shivered at the thought and smiled at him. “Too cold.”
“Ah, my beautiful hellion, a little cold never hurt anyone.”
She’d traveled to lots of places. Alaska during the dead of winter had been one of the worst times in her life. “How about Egypt instead?”
“Pyramids? I like that.” He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. “I also like the new color. I should have mentioned that earlier.”
She grasped his dark curls, interlacing them between her digits, so soft. “I like—”
A bang struck the wall, making them both jump, her forward and him backward. Adrian’s hands tightened at her waist. When a loud moan sounded through the wall from the opposite side, they both laughed. Aggie and Theo.
“I always knew they would give in to temptation,” Bronwyn said.
Aggie had given Theo secret looks while growing up. Bronwyn always noticed and had even told Aggie to make her move, but she had said she didn’t feel like that for him. Even when Bronwyn had picked up on an answering interest in Theo for Aggie, still nothing happened—until now.
Adrian propped his hand against the wall. “I do remember it taking you quite some time to notice me.” He grinned, almost wolfishly. “Now I can’t get you off of me.”
Rolling her eyes, Bronwyn flicked her gaze at the clock. The red ticking hand beat its own drum as it moved upward. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. A low beep beep came from the ceiling above, and the bulbs pulsed and flickered. Bronwyn closed her eyes, then blinked several times, finding it hard to focus on the dim light that barely brightened up anything.
“Teamwork, for now,” she said when her head cleared, turning on her flashlight. “Let’s go.”
“Adjusting to the new light is a bitch.” Adrian rubbed his eyes and shifted toward one of the wall panels.
The exit out of the room was the door in front of her, and she needed a key. That was the first thing they had to find. Adrian removed a panel and set it aside.
Bronwyn went for the metal box next to the clock. When she pulled on the knob, the door of the box creaked open. Inside rested something black. She pulled the dark object out then pressed the silver button, and a blade popped out. A switchblade. She was certain she would have to use it later for something, so she tucked it into the side pocket of her dress. Adrian hadn’t seemed to be paying attention to the slip of the weapon, and she would keep that to herself. It was a competition, after all.
The other object was a silver key. She already knew it would be too predictable to have the key to their own door out, but she moved to try and unlock it anyway. No luck. It wouldn’t even slide in.
“A-ha!” Adrian turned around with a grin, holding the wooden panel he’d just lifted from the wall. Behind it rested a set of metal chains covered in at least six keys and locks with jester faces painted on them.
Bronwyn watched as Adrian struggled with each key, trying to get them to fit the locks. Her impatience boiled until she realized none of them would fit, except for possibly the one in her hand. She knelt beside him and shined her flashlight on a lock. “Look.” She held up the key and moved it to a lock that didn’t budge, and neither did the next. On the third try, the lock gave. Quickly, she unraveled the chain and grabbed the key attached.
Bronwyn pulled the chain up and unlocked the next lock. Then she grabbed the newly-loosened chain with a key attached—strung in a crisscross pattern—before undoing another. She continued the movements until they were all opened except for the final small box in the middle. Finally, the bottom key was able to reach it, and she opened the box. It contained a plastic baby, and in its pudgy little hands sat a bronze key.
With a huge smile on her face, Bronwyn snapped up the key and tossed it in the air. Adrian swiped the key before it landed back into her palm.
“Let’s hurry,” he said, swiftly moving for the door.
As they reached the exit, a loud bang and crash came from the room beside theirs. Then something akin to a growl sounded, making Bronwyn’s blood run cold. She stood frozen, and Adrian hadn’t moved either.
“I don’t think that’s them having sex,” Adrian said with wide eyes, hurrying to shove the key into the lock.
“It sounds wilder than even animal sex,” she rushed out. “We need to see what’s going on!”
“Simon!” Adrian yelled as he opened the door.
“Simon!” she echoed. He was the one who was watching them on the cameras.
Another intense growl stirred from next door, one that didn’t sound anything like a human. A boisterous clatter reverberated through the shared wall of their rooms.
What was going on?
Adrian grabbed Bronwyn’s wrist and pulled her through the door into another dimly-lit room. His brow furrowed as he stared at the wall and held onto the knob.
More beating came through the wall. Bang. Bang. Bang!
“What the fuck?” Bronwyn shouted as she grabbed the key from the lock.
Her heart kicked up a notch. She didn’t know what was going on in her friends’ room, but she had to get to them. Quickly, she ignored the locked exit ahead and shined the light to the door that would be Aggie and Theo’s room. It was the only one of their friends’ doors connected to their new challenge room at the moment. She wished the others had been joined to it as well, so she could see if they were okay.
“Stay as quiet as possible,” Adrian said when he moved to their friends’ door to unlock it from the twist bolt.
Bronwyn nodded and reached for the switchblade in her pocket.
Slowly, he opened the door. It creaked softly, but he continued to pull. Her gaze scanned the room, finally settling on two bodies covered in bright red. Aggie’s blonde pixie cut was mussed, her throat torn open. The other body—Theo’s—looked as if it had been ripped apart. There was blood splattered everywhere, the overwhelming metal odor invaded her nose.
Bronwyn covered her mouth with a trembling hand and followed Adrian’s gaze up to a large hole rooted in the ceiling. A rustling and swishing noise echoed from inside it. Bronwyn thrust Adrian out of the way and shut the door, locking it. Something had made that hole in the ceiling, something that could very well come back down.
“We have to get out of here, really get out of here,” she said, her breaths coming out too heavy. She felt as if she could hardly draw air into her panicked lungs.
“Right now, it looks like our options are that open hole or to find the code out of this room.”
“I don’t think going through that hole is the idea.”
“What the hell happened in there?” Adrian asked, running his hands through his wavy hair.
Something had killed Aggie and Theo. Her friends’ bodies were a mangled mess, and Bronwyn wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to rage on whatever had done that. But whatever it was couldn’t have been human. Not even a chainsaw would have mauled someone up like that, and what they had heard was not a tool of any kind. It was something distinctly more than human—more like an animal.
“I don’t know,” Bronwyn started. “but let’s just focus on getting to the next room so we can find everyone else. I think waiting in this room for the doors to unlock wouldn’t be an option right now. And where the hell is Simon?”
“I agree, but if something came through the ceiling of that room, do you think...”
She knew what he was thinking—that Simon could be dead.
Bronwyn was startled out of her thoughts by a booming crash. She glanced around, her heart pounding, but it sounded like the noise was coming from further away—possibly Owen and Quinn's room. But their room wasn’t connected to this challenge room. Bronwyn and Adrian needed to hurry.
Pointing her flashlight around the room, she noticed a small desk in the corner. A golden crown rested on top, surrounded by various bead necklaces, all the colors of Mardi Gras. Along the floor, board games were sprawled with their lids taken off.
The touchscreen lock on the exit door needed four numbers. Adrian started digging through the boxes, while Bronwyn headed for the desk. There were eight drawers and most sat empty except for one holding two flashlights. When she flicked the button up, a bluish UV light shot out. Bingo.
She handed one to Adrian as she scanned the room, searching for any sign of a code. All she could focus on was the constant beat of her heart and her heavy breathing.
A thunderous smack struck the door from Aggie and Theo’s room. Bronwyn stood frozen for a second before moving faster. The beating against the door came harder and harder, and she was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything except that sound.
“We got this. Just try and drown it out,” Adrian said as his hands shook and he angled his light against a box of a board game.
When another bang crashed, not against the door of Aggie and Theo’s room, but somewhere inside where Bronwyn and Adrian had started, she realized they had both been idiots for leaving it open.
“Shut the fucking door!” Bronwyn screamed. She was too far away, but so was Adrian. As fast as she could, she ran to the opening and went to close it, yet her eyes briefly caught something. It rose from the wood floor and barreled to the door, pushing against her weight. Adrian lunged forward and slammed it closed, then scrambled to lock it.
The banging now erupted against the door, but all Bronwyn could think about was the face—that thing. She wanted to cover her ears, her eyes.
“Did you see it?” she whispered, her face going pale.
“Barely,” he said. “A deep gray color.”
“It had wings, Adrian, wings! And two horns, like a fucking demon from Hell.”
“I believe you.” His voice was firm, his breaths heavy.
But how was this possible?
Gathering whatever focus she could, Bronwyn glided the flashlight over the game boxes, and halted when one showed a hidden number behind the lid. 5316.
Adrian caught a glimpse of the code and rushed alongside her to enter the number. With hurried motions, she fingered in the numbers to the code and grasped the lid in her other hand, not risking leaving it behind. Access Granted. The metal door cracked open and after they entered, she pulled it closed behind them.
Bronwyn tossed the box lid to the floor—they were supposed to leave the code for the next group that needed it, but they were both dead. Dead. She couldn’t bring herself to think about that word. Not now.
There were two other metal doors in the new challenge room besides the outlet from which she and Adrian came out of: one that led to the next exit and the other from which her four remaining friends would be coming in. That was, if they did, or perhaps they already had. But there was no way to open her friends’ door from this side like they had with Aggie and Theo’s.
From the other side of the door, where Bronwyn and Adrian had escaped, long and slow screeching erupted from the metal, as though the creature was running fingernails—or claws—against it. Bronwyn stood still. Then a rapid scurrying sounded, followed by a cracking of wings. Even though she was in another room, she could almost feel the heavy wind against her face. The thing had entered their previous room, but Bronwyn had the key in her pocket. It hadn’t beat down the doors, she and Adrian would have heard it. The creature must have come in through Aggie and Theo’s room.
“It knows how to unlock doors?” Adrian whisper-shouted, eyes wide, jaw clenched.
“Right now, it’s better for the demon-thing to be in that room instead of falling through our ceiling,” Bronwyn whispered back and started searching around. Her heart beat so rapidly that she felt she may have a heart attack before escaping. Even if this had been a normal escape room attempt, her heart would’ve been on edge to win.
It was hard for her to think as she focused on the framed painted pictures decorating the rectangular room.
Adrian drew open a red toolbox and fished out a key. A silver box hung on the wall, and he put it in its lock. Empty.
“Fuck! Waste of time,” he hissed.
Bronwyn started toward the wooden chair and the coffee table, where a fake king cake rested as the centerpiece, surrounded by colorful Mardi Gras coins. Just as she was about to reach it, the door behind her crashed open and her breath caught. But it wasn’t from the room holding the creature.
Yan and Hollis stumbled through the door, fear on both their faces.
“What the hell is going on?” Hollis screamed, her curly hair disheveled.
Roars started and came to a crescendo, not from the one where the creature should have been, but from other places in the building, and it no longer sounded like just one. There had to be at least two.
“Quinn and Owen—” Yan started.
“Where are they?” Adrian interrupted, his tone bordering on frantic. The same as Bronwyn felt. She’d never seen him like this before. Hell, she’d never been like this before.
While waiting for a response, he continued searching around the room, doing what Bronwyn should have been doing too.
“Dead,” Yan said, her lower lip wobbling. “Their bodies. These things. They killed them.”
Bronwyn’s heart palpitated so hard she felt as if it would burst, but she still leapt forward and slammed their door shut, not making the mistake of leaving it open. Her other two friends wouldn’t be coming out now either...
“We’ll figure it all out, but we’re all together now, so we need to find a way to get the fuck out of here.” Bronwyn hurried and plucked a picture of a jester off the wall. He sat on a throne, as if the world was his oyster. She shined the UV light on the back. No numbers.
The door across from them held another touchscreen lock, this time needing three numbers.
Bronwyn reached for the next painting covered in colorful masks and illuminated the light on it. Nothing. Yan had one in her hand, and Bronwyn brought up her light. Nine.
“Two more!” she shouted to Adrian who was searching with Hollis, both using their UVs.
The animalistic roars grew louder, closer. They had to be stirring from both rooms that each team had come out from. The growls became deafening, but she left her ears uncovered. Bronwyn wished that the people outside would hear them—they should hear them, but the place was soundproofed, and it was all supposed to be a game in good and fun. Yet, now it felt more than real, and that was because it was.
“Where is Simon?” Yan demanded.
Bronwyn just gave her a desperate look and shrugged while lifting the fake king cake and inspecting it. Either Simon was really dead, or he had managed to escape. Those were the only two conclusions that would explain why he hadn’t opened the doors.
Adrian lifted a rug from the floor beneath the table and tossed it to the side, shining his light beneath it. Clenching his flashlight, he held up seven fingers.
Yan opened up a drawer on the other side of the table and fished out a small pocketbook. As she flipped through the pages, something rumbled as if it had catapulted into one of the doors. Licking her lips and thinking of anything but that, Bronwyn held up her UV light and watched as Yan turned and stopped.
“Four,” Bronwyn whispered and shot to the padlock at the same time Yan did. They both started punching in numbers.
Seven. Nine. Four. Denied.
Seven. Four. Nine. Denied.
Nine. Seven. Four. Denied.
One of the doors burst open and Bronwyn glanced over her shoulder. The creature entered the room through the door Yan and Hollis had come from. They had to have left their box behind for the thing to get the code.
Charcoal gray body, wide face, animal and human all at once, broad wings that cracked like thunder as they flapped. With a strong body and dark veins, it looked like a demon gargoyle straight from Hell.
Nine. Four. Seven. Denied.
A high-pitched scream came from behind her. Hollis. She didn’t look behind her, even though she wanted to, but she needed to get Adrian and Yan out to safety. Sweat beaded at Bronwyn’s upper lip and temple.
Four. Nine. Seven.
Access granted. Unlocked.
A rough hand yanked Bronwyn back as Yan pushed open the door, her body flinging against the wall with a deafening smack. Her eyes dizzily made contact with Hollis’s wide-open stare and slit-clawed throat. Adrian took a chair and struck it over the gargoyle’s head, causing the beast to collapse to the side. With no hesitation, Adrian dropped the chair and yanked Bronwyn up from the floor. Yan waited for them at the entrance to the next room, gesturing them to hurry.
Bronwyn felt a hard shove from Adrian to her back, and she fell through the door. She scrambled to her feet and hurried to turn around to grab for Adrian. Just as she stood to reach for him, he was snatched back by the gargoyle like a little doll. True fear crossed his face as he looked at her, but not for himself, for her.
Yan pulled the door shut, and it locked automatically.
“No!” Bronwyn screamed, banging on the door as hard as she could to get it open. She could hear the shouts from Adrian, and then his silence, though the growling continued to fester.
Yan hauled Bronwyn back. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“You should have let me try and get to him!” Bronwyn cried, anger coursing through her veins.
“It was too late. I couldn’t let you die, too.” Yan sniffed, running a hand across her own cheek.
Bronwyn collapsed to her knees and let out a quiet sob at the same time Yan did. Both of the people they loved had just been murdered. She knew Yan loved Hollis as much as Bronwyn loved Adrian.
Five rooms total. There were five exit doors they had to get through, and they had already been through three. They were so close. Then what?
Taking a breath, Bronwyn didn’t know if she could pick herself up to finish—all the while thinking about Adrian and how the cake she had baked him was downstairs sitting in the middle of the table. Now, he wouldn’t ever get to eat that cake. She shouldn’t have been caring about a fucking cake when he was dead—she wanted him with her. Somehow, she held back her emotions, chose to continue and cry later, would cry later, would probably never stop crying. Despite her thoughts screaming at her, she noticed the sounds from behind the door had stopped as well. For now, they were gone.
The room was dimly-lit, but brighter than the other ones had been. The door across required four numbers that they needed to hurry and find. There were boxes and boxes and more boxes scattered, all of the same color scheme—greens, purples, golds. A cot rested in the corner, with a thin striped mattress laying on top. Yan flipped through a stack of books in the corner of the room. Bronwyn hurried to lift the mattress and discovered words written in black marker.
Under the table.
She slapped the side of her leg. There wasn’t a table in the room!
Yan was still going through each book like her life depended on it—and it did. Bronwyn turned to the boxes and started removing the lids. In each box was one miniature item, the kind that belonged in a small dollhouse. Lamp. Rocking chair. Toilet. Bed. She tossed each toy and box to the side while Yan came and did the same. Dresser drawers. Dog. Table!
With quick motions, Bronwyn flipped the table over, hand trembling almost violently. Nothing. She shined the blue light on it and the code appeared. 5299.
“Got it!” she shouted and flew to the door. Her hand continued to shake as she pressed in each number. There were only four, but it felt like an eternity. Access Granted.
Bronwyn opened the door, and just as she let Yan pass, two large gargoyles smashed through the ceiling—wood and sheetrock raining down—and landed on their feet, wings flapping with devilish motions.
“Fuck!” Bronwyn yelled as she ran into the room and pulled the door shut—or thought she had. It wouldn’t close. Her eyes grew wide as they settled on one of the gargoyle’s hands. Sharpened talons protruded at the end of each finger. The creature let out a wild and furious shriek, tugging its hand back. She didn’t hesitate and closed the door, the bolt sliding into place.
A look of horror crossed Yan’s face. “They’re coming through the ceilings now too?”
“One did that in Aggie and Theo’s room,” Bronwyn replied, her brow furrowed. The creatures had either went through the door or crashed through the ceilings. It was almost as if they were toying with them...
“This is the last room,” Yan said, her chest heaving. “Let’s do this.”
“Okay.” Bronwyn frantically searched their surroundings. Streamers like the ones in the hallway hung from the ceiling, making the path hard to see with no visible light except for their flashlights. Bronwyn shined her regular flashlight and the UV one across the room. What covered the walls were rectangular mirrors with stickers displayed on them.
They couldn’t stay here for long. Not when these things could unlock doors or crash through the ceilings, or do whatever it was they were doing. If this had been like any other year of their escape room attempts, Yan and Bronwyn would have battled to be the first one out the door. She wished Adrian was there with her in this last room like the year before.
Adrian. Adrian. Tears pricked at her eyes. She needed him. But he wasn’t here. He was dead. Six of her other friends were dead—maybe seven, if Simon was. But Yan wasn’t dead. And Bronwyn wasn’t either. She needed to get them both out of here.
Beneath the floor came a heavy vibration—the gargoyles had to be striking their strong palms against the wood. The sounds of wings beating stirred all around the outside of the room, from above, from below, from the room where they had come, but not the exit. However, that didn’t mean they weren’t there or couldn’t get there.
“I think I have a plan,” Yan said. “Let’s get the code and stay in here for a bit.”
“Unless one gets in,” Bronwyn finished. It was the smartest plan they had—they didn’t know where in the building the gargoyles could be, or how quickly they could get there. But if there were more than two, which it sounded like there were, then they might pop out of anywhere.
“Focus on these stickers on the mirrors,” Yan said, squeezing her locks of dark hair in desperation. “There has to be a reason they are on there. The shapes have to somehow become numbers by looking at them a certain way.”
The stickers pressed to the glass were of a plastic baby, a crown, beads, each containing another sticker in the form of an arc above it. She peered at the sticker, not getting anything from it, but when she steered herself to the left, in the reflection, in the opposite mirror, a painted symbol formed a number.
“I see a three,” Bronwyn rushed out the words, maneuvering herself to the crown next.
The beating on the walls, the ceiling, the floor, grew fiercer, louder.
“I got a seven!” Yan shouted.
Bronwyn’s fingers tapped at her side, increasing in tempo. The arc across the top mixed with the image behind her created the number. “Two.”
The exit to the final door didn’t have a screen lock, but a place that needed a key. Bronwyn still had the one in her pocket from the first room, and she slid it in to see if it fit. It didn’t.
Then what was the code for?
Bronwyn brushed streamers out of the way as she searched to the left. In the corner, there hung a box on the wall with a rotating number padlock on the front. She lifted it from its spot.
“Over here!” Bronwyn called, turning the numbers.
The beating increased, though she didn’t know how that was possible because it was already so loud. Then the roaring started.
“Hurry!” Yan shouted.
“I’m trying!” Bronwyn clenched her teeth, rotating the numbers.
Seven. Three. Two. No.
Seven. Two. Three. No.
Something shot up from below them and Bronwyn shoved Yan to the side just in time as a shadow fell over her. The box fell from her hands and clanked to the floor.
The only thing she could think to do was kick the creature in the chest, and she did, making it shift back a fraction. A low growl reverberated through the room. She angled to the side and searched the floor as she ran, unable to find the box.
“I can’t find it!” Bronwyn cried, her nerves more than on edge.
“Here!” Yan shouted, holding up a key.
A loud bang came from above as another gargoyle darted inside the room with a roar, followed by yet another. Three.
One grabbed Yan and made a clean slice with its claws across the olive skin of her throat. Bright red spilled out from the wound. Almost as if in slow motion, Bronwyn watched as the silver key fell from her friend’s hand.
Bronwyn didn’t even move for the key. She closed her eyes and waited to be next. All she heard was the sound of wings ... and then nothing. The gargoyles had left, leaving Bronwyn alone. No, not alone, because when she opened her eyes, she found Yan’s body.
She stared at Yan and rushed to her friend’s side. There was no saving her—the gashes across her throat bled profusely and her eyes stared up, vacant. Bronwyn used her flashlight to find the key on the floor and sobbed as she plucked it up. She was alone. Earlier she had thought about winning, and now she had, but she no longer cared. All she wanted was to get out, but was it worth it with all her friends now murdered?
Maybe not. But she needed to try and warn people about the terrors going on if she could. She needed to warn the other Adrians, Yans, Hollises, Theos, Aggies, Quinns, Owens, and Simons of the world what was happening. These things could easily attack more people outside, if they hadn’t already.
With heavy and exhausted limbs, she stood up and shuffled to the door. There, she inserted the key and turned it. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob, the sound seeming to be the loudest thing she’d heard all day, but that was all inside her head.
As she pulled open the door, Bronwyn breathed as quietly as she could. She peeked her head out into the hallway, looking left then right—empty. When she took a careful step forward, and then another, something dropped from the ceiling directly in front of her, with two horns, a sharp nose, and eyes of hazel. Eyes she knew so well. But it couldn’t be. The wings beat behind him back and forth, causing her hair to stir.
“It looks like you won this year.” He smiled, showcasing sharp teeth.
She recognized his voice, and then she knew for sure. A horrified gasp escaped her mouth, and she couldn’t shift her gaze from those hazel eyes.
“How?” Her voice shook.
From behind her, noises multiplied, and she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, finding seven other gargoyles there. When she peered into the room that she was going to flee back into, Yan’s body now lay broken into bloody pieces scattered around the room.
Bronwyn remembered the switchblade inside her pocket. She knew she might need it, but not for something like this. Keeping her attention on Adrian, she grabbed the weapon. She wrenched it out and pressed the button, the blade shooting out. Gritting her teeth, she shoved it directly into Adrian’s strong chest, where it should have fractured his heart. It didn’t even penetrate the skin, not even a scratch.
“Goodnight, my beautiful hellion.” And Adrian’s claws swiped across her throat.
Warm blood leached to the surface of her neck, and hot tears pricked her eyes. The world fell into purples and yellows and greens, matching the colors of the streamers hanging down the hallway. Then it all faded to black.
Bronwyn’s eyes flicked open, and she felt cocooned, claustrophobic, trapped. She wiggled and roared until she lurched forward, ripping free from the shell she’d created and inhabited for that day, matching that of the human she’d eaten.
“Well, that was fun,” she said, her wings beating against her back as she descended to the ground.
“I was so close this year...” Yan sighed from behind, her broad wings tight against her back.
“You always have next year,” Bronwyn responded with a shrug, but inside she was beaming with joy.
When the lights flickered in the escape room, they all knew it was time to shut down their gargoyle side and tap into humanity by using the strength from what they had eaten earlier that day, forgetting what they truly were. It was a dangerous game, because if they had escaped without their humanity being killed, then they may not have ever discovered who they truly were. But it was a fun risk nonetheless.
Bronwyn remembered the terrified feelings she’d had when going through the rooms, and each year after they finished, she relished the rush. That feeling that she could die at any moment, but in the end, she didn’t, because none of it was truly real. After they reawakened, they continued the game to terrify and catch whoever they could. It all began with Simon shifting first, who then picked the room to start in with the team who was the most behind. Which had to have been Aggie and Theo’s because of their frolicking.
“How’s your throat?” Adrian asked, his warm hand skimming across her thick skin, his talons brushing her neck.
“The same as yours was last year.” She reached out and stroked the horns at his forehead, and grinned. “Now for the surprise I have for you downstairs.”
“Oh yeah?” He cocked his head, his expression intrigued.
“Yes, my love. Follow me.”
As the gargoyles descended the stairs, they discussed how the game could be improved the following year. Simon was already making a list—soundproof walls inside the rooms was at the top.
Once Bronwyn hit the last step, she walked to her place at the table and stood behind her silver dish, watching as the gargoyles moved behind theirs. Under each dish rested two organs that they had frozen from their victims. Usually, everyone had a heart and a kidney that they would eat when it struck midnight.
They didn’t do this because they loved it, although they did. Each year on the start of Fat Tuesday or Mardi Gras, they had only a few days to feast, and they chose the humans because they could shift into that form for the year if need be.
“First,” Bronwyn started, “I want Adrian to dig into the cake and find the gift I brought him.”
“I know. I know.” He chuckled. “They all have a baby Jesus inside.”
“Just do it so we can eat already,” Owen grumbled.
Shaking his head at Owen, Adrian drew the cake closer to him and placed his clawed hand inside. His talons circled, digging around, cake crumbs falling, until his hand stopped, finding what Bronwyn had been waiting for.
Clucking his tongue, Adrian lifted his hand and eyeballed the plastic baby nestled in his palm. She liked his expressions in the human form, but his gargoyle face was the one she truly loved. He was near perfect, beautiful, and dangerous. Like her, like their clan.
“It’s a baby gargoyle.” His lips tilted up at the edges. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Congratulations, my love.” Bronwyn pressed her hands to her stomach. “You’re going to be a daddy before next Mardi Gras.”
Gasps escaped everyone around the room.
Mardi Gras was the annual night they had to feed, and next year they would be teaching their little one how to do the same.
“This is all amazing,” Owen said, “but it’s midnight already, so can we eat?”
Adrian smiled and pressed his lips to hers. “I told you in the letter that you would be getting a kiss at midnight.” He put his mouth to hers once more. “Or two.”
“Now, let’s eat.” She grinned and slid on her Mardi Gras mask and watched as everyone did the same to celebrate the glorious occasion.
