The festival was in full swing when we got back to the village of Demonio. No one paid our significantly smaller group any extra attention. The rugged state we were in didn’t raise any red flags when half the crowd was wearing various costumes of horror.

We didn’t stop to speak to anyone. It was agreed before getting out of the car we wouldn’t go for help.

Not here.

The local legend had become too real and those who knew of that folktale could be fully aware of what went down in the woods that surrounded their precious village.

We went right into our rooms, gathering everything we would need to get the fuck out of this place and nothing more, sticking together as if our lives depended on it.

Inside the boys’ room, I tried not to stare at all the things that belonged to Alex and Jacob.

As Tyson got what he needed I rifled through the bags closest to the door to find their IDs and passports, but they weren’t anywhere I looked.

Back in the car, Tyson forced his way through the crowds. I stared out the window, not truly seeing anything until a young girl’s costume caught my eye. I leaned forward and stared.

She was dressed as one of the twins from the portrait, glowing eye and all. At this point, I wouldn’t have been shocked if it was her. She saw me and smiled, lifting her arm to wave. The woman beside her saw what she was doing, and I turned away.

“Why did you tell us not to look at them?” I finally asked, my voice brittle and raw.

“If you look into their eyes, they can mark your soul,” Tyson replied, staring straight ahead.

I placed a comforting hand on his arm.

No more words were spoken between us until we reached the airport.