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| "I am SOOOO not going to a Haunted House called CarnEvil." I crossed my arms in front of my chest, trying to get my message across. It was not working very well. All Brian did was laugh. "Honey, it's just a haunted house," he said, with a smile after he got done laughing. "JUST a haunted house?" I asked, blinking. "Bri, do you not see the gigantic clown hovering above the sign?" "Yes, I see the clown hovering above the sign," he said, looking over his shoulder. "And it's just a clown." Okay, he did NOT just say that... "Brian, you know that I hate clowns. You KNOW that they scare the bejesus outta me," I said with a pout. He never could resist that pout... Brian sighed. "Baby, please go on it... It's just a stupid haunted house. Please?" Then again, I never could resist his pout. I silently cursed myself for giving in to him as often as I did. Those little teenybopper fans that adored that man had no idea what they were missing. Being a Backstreet Girlfriend was not easy, not in the least. "Fine," I mused, taking a glance toward the building where CarnEvil was housed. "But I swear Bri, if I have nightmares tonight, then you're gonna have one helluva time getting me back to sleep." "Dont worry sweetie, it's gonna be great," Brian said with a grin as he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the building. Brian bought us tickets and we were told to go through the door in the center, where we would enter a waiting room. Easy enough. We walked through the door, I gripped Brian's hand as we walked under the clown. Hell if he was getting off that easy, making me go in a haunted house. As soon as we entered the waiting room, we discovered that the door to carnevil itself was a clown's mouth. I almost screamed when I saw it. "Bri, I-" "Honey, please." I looked over at him; he was giving me his pout again. "Brian, I am NOT walking through a clown's mouth." That damn pout... He pulled me with him when someone called out our group's name. I swear, I could hurt that man sometimes. We walked through the clown's mouth and into a dark hallway. I'm proud of myself, I didn't break Brian's hand when I squeezed. Well, not for lack of trying, though. The hallway was uneventful. Not much jumped out at us. A few guys with what looked like sheets over their heads. Totally generic. I was suddenly feeling very stupid because I had protested so much. This place was weak. We went in a few rooms - the place was themed as a 30's carnival. It was pretty cool, actually - I did like the idea of the theme. Now, where were those damn clowns I've been hearing so much of... We walked through a hallway, leading the group of people we were with - there were maybe five people behind us. One girl was even wearing a Backstreet Boys shirt, I'm surprised she didn't notice Brian. I suppse the *N Sync t-shirt he was wearing was helping with the whole disguise thing. At the end of the hallway was someone with their back to us, standing in front of three doors. He had a wig on, and his pants were entirely too baggy... This could only mean one thing. "Get up against the wall," the clown said, turning around and pulling a plastic gun on us. I was so terrified I almost wet myself. Brian tightened his grip on my hand and laughed nervously. "Hey man, aren't you supposed to ask us to pick a door?" The clown grinned evilly. "Not this time buddy. Now, up against the wall and hands behind your heads," he said, turning his attention to the people behind us. Brian ignored him. I was about to listen when he pulled on my hand and shook his head "no" when I looked at him. The people behind us did as they were told. The clown turned his attention to Brian and I when he noticed that we weren't listening. "I said, up against the wall and put your hands behind your head. Espically you, blondie," he said, motioning toward me. Brian frowned. "Leave my girlfriend alone," he said, getting defensive. He pulled me toward a door before the clown could say anything. "I don't think so," he said, putting a hand on the knob. "Hey-" We were through the door before anyone even noticed. We went through a few more rooms, both of us not saying a word. We soon got to a hallway, where two policemen were standing, looking around the corner eagerly. "Um, can I help you-" Brian began. "You two, come with us," the one officer said, taking me by the arm. "Hey, she didn't-" "You too." ~*~*~ "Look, I'm sorry if we did something wrong, but-" I began, only to be cut off. "You two are lucky to be alive," the police officer said when we got out of the building. "Alive?" Brian asked, confused. "What do you mean, alive?" "The clown you ran into wasn't a clown," the officer explained. "He was an escapee from the Orlando Correctional Facility." I was stunned. "What... Why..." "He was arrested for homicide. He was serving a life sentence when he escaped. We found the real clown's body in the dressing room. He must have killed the clown, put on his makeup and went into the ride. There were bodies of seven people in there. One of them was wearing a Backstreet Boys shirt, Mr. Littrell." Brian looked like he had seen a ghost. "Now will you listen to me about clowns?" I hissed. He shook his head with a frown and leaned over to hug me. |
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