Wearing a long black cloak.
My mom and my uncle keep laughing.
That excited nervous laughter.
My head turns, searching.
I hear him.
Peaking over my shoulder,
He's right behind me.
I try to run but my feet won't move.
I try to scream but only whispering squeals come out.
It's death, and he's right here.
Staring at me.
The line is long. We've been waiting for an hour already. Screams. Nervous laughter. Excitement. The Firehouse. We go here every year for Halloween. To be scared. By the firemen. Firemen don't hurt you, right?
The lights go out.
Gasps can be heard from the warehouse room.
What's going to happen?
My knees are weak.
I clutch my mom's arm.
A death grip.
Search lights swirl the room...
He's up near the roof awnings.
Grabbing a rope, he swings down into the crowd.
It's finally our turn.
My mom and my uncle laugh.
That excited nervous laugh.
My palms are clammy.
My heart is racing.
The eager and enchanting fireman pulls the rope.
The sliding door opens, begging for us to enter.
We step inside, not knowing the screams and torture that await.
And the door slams shut.
With us inside.
Like the blades of a guillotine.
We are trapped in the maze of Halloween horror.