Showtime & ArrivalsMature

Victor sighed deeply as he watched James depart, tucking the revolver under his suit jacket and tugging at the collar of his red dress shirt. Turning to face the front doors of the mansion, he brushed his suit jacket aside and planted his hands firmly on his hips. With a deep sniff, he squared his shoulders, as if shaking off some imaginary forcefield, that was holding him back from continuing forward. Pivoting on his heels, he walked into the spacious living room to his right, which was upholstered with red and black velvet and suede furniture, throw pillows and decorative rugs, big and small.  There was also a ivory marble fireplace, and cherry antique end tables. Stepping towards the large bay window, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling red velvet curtains, Victor peered out into the dark of night and down at the front walkway, that led to the winding and dimly lit driveway of the foothills. A smug smile stretched across his dark, handsome face as he watched his guests get their bearings, and start towards the mansion house. Hopefully, James would be able to slip through the shadows cast by the full moon, peeking through the surrounding trees and brush, unnoticed by the other guests, and fool them into thinking he had just arrived, when in reality, he had been there the whole time, doing his dirty work for him. A sinister chuckle escaped Victor's lips, thinking about the terrifying that laid ahead for them. They had no idea, and that was the best part.

With a clear of his throat, he squared his shoulders once more and turned away from the window, thunder rumbling in the hills, lightning flashing across the dark sky as if in warning to the new guests. Tugging at the collar of his dress shirt, he stepped back into the foyer and climbed the stairs to the second floor. It was time for him to make himself scarce, and slip into his secret room before they laid eyes on him. It was too soon. He had to strike fear in their hearts first, before revealing that he was in fact their host for the evening. If they knew that he knew every one of their dark secrets, it would be that much more terrifying to them, and it would work perfectly. Welcome to Horror House, my victims...you're never leaving.

* * *

So it was just Andrew, in a house full of women, one of them who wasn't fond of him already, but that was to be expected from Audry. While some guys might of considered themselves to be lucky to be in his situation, the last thing he wanted was to feel like the odd man out, being the only male guest, unless this host really got his rocks off making the majority of his guests attractive women. He wouldn't put it past him. Pushing himself away from the hood of his car, he stepped towards the driver's side of his Camaro, opening the door and reaching over the driver's seat, pulling his large suitcase out of the backseat, locking and shutting the door. Audry glanced back at him with a scoff, as she headed up to the house with the two other women. He sighed deeply, following after her. "So you're ignoring me now, huh Audry?" He called to her. "After those two years in high school, you still hate me, huh?" When she didn't reply to him, he shook his head in disbelief and exuded a scoff of his own, having a feeling he wasn't going to get anything out of her, not now, maybe not at all this weekend.

He glanced up at the sky as it began to grow darker, jumping in fright at the sudden rumbling thunder. It looked like there was a storm coming. Perfect. What a night to invite someone to a creepy looking manner. It was probably planned that way. He thought he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in one of the bay windows, overlooking the wilted looking and decaying garden, with the sudden flash of lightning, but it might of just been his imagination, just his mind playing tricks on him.

"Hey Ryder, nice bike," he called to the leather clad girl in front of them, trying to make conversation. "I can't remember the last time I saw a girl on a motorcycle, except maybe a cop."

"Thank you," she replied, tossing her head to glance back at him.

Andrew nearly jumped out of his skin, along with every one else as another thunder clap rolled through the hills, lighting flashing overhead and illuminating a creepy looking old man standing on the front porch of the mansion. "Shit!" He cried. "Hello?" He called. "We all got an invitation in the mail to come here tonight. Is this Blackthorn Manor?" He waited for a few long seconds for a reply, hoping the old geezer wasn't hard of hearing that he had to repeat himself twice.

The End

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