Beloved Forever Read Free

waiting, Emily…
    You’re mine now.
    It’s to die for.
    She rolled her eyes at their silly messages. “Very funny, guys,” she called out, hoping they could hear her. Briefly tempted to write a less than complimentary reply to them, she held back, knowing Troy , Ron and Sara wouldn’t read her words unless they went through again.
    She glanced at the messages once more as she exited the room and froze.
    Eternity, Emily.
    She frowned, certain that hadn’t been there when she looked at the walls a second ago. She took a deep breath and relaxed, knowing her friends were responsible. Since Sara was angry with her, who knew what kind of tricks they might play. She scanned the room, searching for Troy , Sara or Ron hiding in a corner, but she was the only one in the small room. She took another deep breath, trying to restore her calm. The message had been there all along. In her distressed state, she had simply missed it the first time.
    She hurried from the room, stopping in front of the stairs. She eyed them cautiously, expecting them to start shaking. They were probably motion-activated. She grasped the railings on each side, dropping the napkin wrapped around her finger. Emily bent to pick it up, but the stairs started to rattle, distracting her. She held onto the rails and climbed up each step. About halfway up, she realized they always trembled to the left, then back to the right before pausing for a moment. She counted the intervals before taking another step. As soon as she had it timed, she was able to walk up the remainder without fear of falling.
    Emily emerged into the second level and gasped. The room was spinning. She reached out to grasp anything for support, but there was nothing to hold on to. Her head began to spin, and she grew nauseated. Several seconds later, she realized she wasn’t actually moving. The room was round like a barrel, except for the walkway under her feet, which was flat, straight, and stationary. She concentrated on walking the thin strip of wood and ignoring the spinning walls and ceiling as she made her way through the room.
    Emily was more cautious when she entered the next room, freezing when she heard a scream in the room in front of her. It sounded like Sara. Ron’s voice followed quickly, but not Troy ’s. “Must be scary,” she whispered, preparing herself.
    The brightly lit room featured more lurid paintings, similar to those decorating the exterior of the funhouse. Stereotypical vampires drained women in various states of undress, as monsters of all kinds watched or went about their own scary activities. Frankenstein dragged the gnawed-on, severed leg of a villager behind him. She lifted her eyebrows at that, not remembering anything from her literature class about Frankie being a cannibal. Emily forced herself to view the drawings objectively and systematically eliminate any fear they inspired.
    She calmed herself and was almost out of the room prior to realizing every vampire in the mural was the same one from the front of the funhouse. He still appeared sinister and full of dark knowledge, but also charismatic. She blinked when she found herself drifting from the doorway to a picture, touching it reverently, as if she weren’t controlling her own hand. The vampire held a willing victim in his arms. She wore a light-brown jacket and jeans. Her brown hair flowed over the white of his shirt, and her blissful expression belied the pain she must feel from the gaping wound on her neck. He held her with tender cruelty, seeming enamored with her upturned face. She had Emily’s features.
    She blinked and looked again, frowning. The girl in the vampire’s arms had long black hair and dark green eyes. The victim looked nothing like her. “Losing it.” She shook her head and hurried from the mural room.
    Emily took two steps into the next room and paused. There was nothing at all in the room, except a bare bulb hanging from a chain on the ceiling. It wasn’t bright enough to