Chapter 23: Busting Makes Me Feel Bad
Chapter 23: Busting Makes Me Feel Bad
I smoothed out the folds of my Ghostbusters jumpsuit, adjusting the cardboard proton pack strapped to my back as I stood in the mirror in Erica’s room.
Erica stood behind me, her eyes drinking in the sight of me like she had the thirst of someone who just popped Molly in the club, and now she was sweating. She wasn’t in a costume, but even in a simple grey hoodie, idly twirling a metal baseball bat in her hands, she exuded an aura of dominance that made my dick throb.
"It fits well," she smirked, her full lips curling into a wolfish grin.
I cleared my throat, suddenly self-conscious. "Uh, thanks. I'm not sure what you're supposed to be, though?"
Erica shrugged nonchalantly. "I don’t dress up anymore. What am I five?."
“Then why the fuck did you insist on making me dress up.” I ask.
“Because a boy in a costume is hot.” She stared at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Before I could respond, the sound of the doorbell caught our attention. Justine, Nikki, and Tara appeared at the front door, their faces a mix of excitement and mischief. My jaw nearly hit the floor when I saw Justine's costume. An elaborate recreation of Elden Ring's Igon, complete with the weird armor and a massive Bow slung across her back.
"Holy shit, Justine, that's sick!" I blurted out, momentarily forgetting my nerves.
Justine beamed, striking a heroic pose. "I knew you'd appreciate it, Jason."
I let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching my chest dramatically. "Curse you, Bayle!" I exclaimed, playing along with Justine's costume.
Justine matched my theatrics, clutching her hand. "My arms! My legs! Each lies a bloody ruin! Ah… A-Aaaaaargh! The pain… The exquisite pain!"
We both dissolved into laughter, reveling in our shared love for the game. Erica, however, wasn't amused. She glared at Justine, her lips pursed in a tight line.
"No one's gonna recognize that stupid outfit," Erica scoffed, her tone laced with disdain.
Justine met Erica's gaze defiantly, her green eyes sparkling with confidence. "I may currently be maidenless, but i promise you this costume will be a smash hit."
Before Erica could retort, she turned her attention to me. In one swift motion, she snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against her body. Her grip was possessive, almost territorial as if staking her claim on me in front of the others. Her warmth was so blissful. I imagine this is what religion felt for some.
"C'mon, let's get going," Erica commanded, her voice a low growl.
Just as Erica was about to usher us out the door, another bell echoed through the foyer. We all turned to see who the final addition to our group would be.
My breath caught in my throat as Lindsey stepped inside, clad in an exquisite Zelda costume that hugged her curves in all the right places. The rich pink and white fabric cascaded over her slender frame, accented by delicate embroidery that shimmered in the dim lighting. Even her neon hair seemed to glow, framing her delicate features in a mesmerizing halo.
‘I figured Zelda woulda been a boy in this timeline? That’s really confusing.’ I think to myself how the rules of this world seem so arbitrary.
I forced myself to tear my gaze away, praying that my feigned nonchalance would conceal the intense stares I was giving Lindsey while she wore one of the hottest cosplay I’d ever seen.
‘I wonder if Erica would wear something like that?’
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lindsey watching me intently as if she could see straight through my feeble attempts at indifference.
“Curseeeee you, Bayleeeeeeeeee!” Lindsey screeched at Justine as soon as she recognized her outfit.
"Hell yeah!" Justine spoke appreciatively as she gave Erica a condescending look. "That's one hell of a look yourself princess."
Lindsey offered a demure smile, but said nothing. Her silent observation made me shift uncomfortably, hyper-aware of her scrutinizing gaze.
"Huh, I'm surprised you're not three sheets to the wind already," Lindsey remarked, her eyes settling on Erica with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
Erica bristled, clearly affronted by the subtle jab at her typical alcohol-fueled antics. "Maybe I wanna stay sober for once and actually remember this shitshow," she fired back, her words clipped. She suddenly tightened her grip around my waste.
An uncomfortable tension hung in the air as the two stared each other down. Finally, Erica broke away, rolling her eyes dismissively. "Whatever, let's just get going already."
*****
The streets of Salem were utterly suffocating with people. Waves of costumed partygoers surged through every crevice, filling the air with a cacophony of laughter, shouts, and the occasional shriek. Disorienting aromas, a heady blend of stale beer, greasy food, and cloying perfumes assaulted my senses, making me feel lightheaded.
People kept eying me up and down like i was a fine steak. And it honestly made me nervous. Thank god Erica had her bat with her, which made me feel a little better.
Erica forged ahead, shoving through the masses with her trademark brashness. I struggled to keep up, zigzagging awkwardly by her side with her arm around me. The sea of bodies seemed endless, a churning vortex that threatened to sweep me away if not for Erica’s tight grip.
“Curse you Bayleee!” a now common drunken phrase being thrown Justine’s way as the night progresses.
It was too much. It was just way too much. I decide it's time to call it; this sucks. "Hey, Erica?" My voice sounded impossibly small against the overwhelming drunken revelry. "Maybe we should head back? This crowd is getting a bit much..."
Erica whipped around, her brow furrowed in a scowl as she realized the extent of the madness engulfing us. A muscle in her jaw twitched. She clearly hadn't anticipated such pandemonium. Still, her stubborn pride wouldn't allow her to back down so easily.
“Maybe..” She slowly seemed to be flipping to my side. “Is that what you really want?”
Before I could respond, Lindsey sidled up beside us, her Zelda costume swishing with each elegant step. "Don't be such a pussy." she chided, arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "We haven't even hit the haunted house yet."
Erica bristled at Lindsey's teasing remark, her eyes narrowing dangerously. At that moment, the tension between them was palpable, crackling like static electricity.
Lindsey's gaze slid over to me, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Unless Jason's too scared, of course."
‘I feel like Marty Mcfly. And she just called me a fucking Chicken.’
“Fuck I should have gone out tonight as Marty Mcfly.” I yell.
“Who?” Tara asked me.
“Fuck you, Tara.” I spoke coldly as I took out my anger on her due to the implication of what that question she just asked me meant.
"Scared? Please," Erica scoffed responding to Lindseys earlier question, straightening her shoulders as if bracing for battle. "My little guy can handle anything, right baby?" She shot me a pointed look, daring me to contradict her in front of Lindsey.
“Yup.” I spoke, annoyed that we’re around so many people, and now I’m locked into a shit night despite my best efforts. Last year in my world, nearly one hundred thousand people showed up in Salem on Halloween night.
Seemingly satisfied, Erica turned her steely gaze back to Lindsey. "Lead the way, princess. I'll keep my boy safe and sound."
A flicker of irritation flashed across Lindsey's porcelain features before she regained her composure. With a curt nod, she pivoted on her heel and forged ahead, merging seamlessly into the raucous flow of the crowd.
Erica yanked me along in Lindsey's wake, bulldozing a path with her signature bravado.
*****
We shuffled forward in the snaking line inside the building, the air thick with a potent mixture of nervous anticipation and heavy fog machine exhaust. Lindsey seemed to vibrate with barely contained excitement, her eyes darting about as she drank in every lurid detail of the haunted house façade. In stark contrast, Erica radiated bored indifference, rolling her eyes at each overwrought shriek piercing beyond the line despite this being her idea in the first place.
‘This is kind of a dope vibe though. The line is set up like a party so theres even something called halloween punch? That sounds like an interesting mystery. Mom told me not to drink from stuff like that tonight though, because of “roofies” I wish Erica would roofie me.’ My thoughts prattle on and on.
Despite her nonchalant exterior, her grip on my arm remained an iron vise, fingers digging into my bicep with barely restrained intensity. She pulled me flush against her side, chin jutting out defiantly as her piercing gaze roamed the crowd as if daring any threat to emerge.
I kept looking at the crowd and feeling anxious. I wasn’t usually bad with crowds, but this was like there was no space between anyone packed.
Erica caught my sidelong glance, and her stern features softened almost imperceptibly. She leaned in close, her warm breath caressing my ear. "Just stick close to me, baby," she murmured in a low rumble laced with equal parts command and tenderness. "Nothing's gonna touch you as long as I'm here."
A fresh, shrill scream screeched in the air, prompting Erica to shoot a withering glare over her shoulder. But before she could snarl out a scathing remark, her phone buzzed insistently in her pocket.
A muscle twitched along Erica's jawline as she fished out her phone with her free hand, the other still firmly clamped around my arm. Her brows knitted together as she glanced at the screen, lips pursing into a tight line.
"Shit..." she muttered under her breath, the curse laced with genuine concern rather than her usual nonchalance.
Erica's grip slackened on me as she looked at her phone with scared eyes. "What's wrong?" I asked, tilting my head to get a better look at her suddenly ashen face.
She didn't answer right away, her thumb rapidly tapping out a reply with a furrowed brow. After a tense moment, Erica lifted her gaze to meet mine, those piercing blue eyes uncharacteristically vulnerable. "It's my mom...she's in the hospital."
My heart stuttered in my chest as the words sank in. I reached out instinctively, my palm finding the small of her back in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. "Oh god, Erica...I'm so sorry. What happened?"
Erica worried her lower lip, the heavy kohl lining her eyes, making the fear flickering across her features all the more pronounced. "I don't know, she didn't say," she murmured, voice catching ever so slightly. "I'm gonna call her."
With that, she let go of me entirely and turned away, bringing the phone to her ear as she started to walk off to seemingly find somewhere more quiet.
Just as I was about to follow in step with Erica while she took her call, I felt a sharp prick in my neck. Before I could even process what was happening, a gloved hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my startled cry. A wave of dizziness washed over me as whatever was in the needle began to take effect almost instantly.
My limbs felt heavy and unresponsive as I was dragged backward into the churning sea of costumed revelers. Panic clawed at my chest, but my body refused to cooperate. Through rapidly blurring vision, I could see my friends still clustered together, oblivious to my plight, as they chatted animatedly about the viscosity of cum.
All except Lindsey. Her eyes were calm. Locked onto mine for the briefest of moments. I silently pleaded for help, desperately willing her to raise the alarm. But her expression quickly smoothed into a mask of indifference. She turned away, rejoining the conversation as if nothing was amiss.
The noise of the crowd faded to a dull roar, the vibrant colors of costumes and decorations bleeding together into a dark blur. My last coherent thought was of Erica.
‘God, I hope her Mom is okay.’
*****
[Erica’s POV]
I stormed back to the group, my heart racing with a mixture of relief and lingering adrenaline. The neon lights of the haunted house cast eerie shadows across their faces as they laughed at some shared joke. I cleared my throat, drawing their attention.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Some random girl just screamed in Justine’s face and Justine just sat there laughing.”
‘I hate that she got one over on me with that stupid outfit. Maybe If i dress up as Malenia Jason will like me more?’ I wonder.
"False alarm, guys," I announced, trying to keep my voice steady. "Someone texted me that my mom was in the hospital, but she's fine. Se just picked up when I called her and she had no idea what i was talking about." Relief washes over me.
Their laughter died abruptly, replaced by the looks of confusion. Justine's brow furrowed, her stupid costume flapping. "That's... weird. Who would do that?"
I shrugged, pushing aside the nagging worry. "No idea. Probably just some asshole's idea of a prank." My eyes scanned our little group, a chill creeping up my spine as I realized something was off. "Where's Jason?"
The confusion on their faces deepened. Tara glanced around, her vampire fangs glinting in the pulsing lights. "Wasn't he with you?"
My stomach dropped. "No, I... I let go of him when I got the text. I thought he was with you guys. I literally only let him go for half a second.”
Nikki shook her head, her witch's hat bobbing. "We haven't seen him since you walked away.”
I turned to Lindsey, hoping her sharp eyes might have caught something the others missed. But the moment our gazes met, I knew something was wrong. Her face was pale beneath the intricate Zelda makeup, a nervous look flickering in her eyes.
"Lindsey?" I pressed, my voice low and dangerous. "Did you see what happened to Jason?"
She swallowed hard, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her costume. "I... the last I saw, you were still holding onto him.”
My blood ran cold, turning to ice in my veins. The suddenness of my panic made me feel like the loud room was silent. I spun around, desperately scanning the sea of costumed faces for any sign of Jason's Ghostbusters jumpsuit.
"Jason!" I shouted, my voice cracking with fear. "JASON!"
But my cries were swallowed by the thundering bass and drunken laughter surrounding us. The crowd seemed to press in, a suffocating mass of bodies and masks. Every unfamiliar face and every burst of laughter felt like a mockery of my growing terror.
I grabbed Justine’s shoulders, my fingers digging into the delicate fabric of her costume. "Think harder," I growled, searching her eyes for any hint of help. "You must have seen something. Where did he go?"
Justine’s lip quivered, her composure cracking under my intense scrutiny. “Erica, I really don’t know. We have to look for him right now.”
My heart pounding in my ears, I fumbled for my phone, cursing my trembling fingers as I navigated to the tracking app. A faint glimmer of hope sparked in my chest as I remembered I could locate Jason's phone. The screen flickered to life, a small blue dot pulsing mockingly close to my location.
"It's... it's right here," I muttered, confusion and dread mingling in my gut.
I spun around, eyes darting frantically across the sea of costumed revelers. The pulsing lights and fog made everything seem surreal, distorted. Then I spotted it, a table laden with Halloween punch, the surface of the blood-red liquid rippling ominously.
With shaking hands, I plunged my arm into the sticky-sweet concoction. My fingers closed around something solid, and I yanked it out, my breath catching in my throat as I recognized Jason's phone. The screen flickered weakly, moisture seeping into the cracks. It was barely functional, the last dregs of battery life fading before my eyes.
"Fuck!" I screamed, The thought of losing Jason nearly causing me to go into a Frenzy. Panic clawing at my insides, I sprinted outside, shoving past oblivious partygoers. The cool night air hit me like a slap to the face, but it did nothing to clear the fog of fear clouding my mind.
I stood there, paralyzed, as the full weight of the situation crashed over me. The streets stretched out before me, an endless maze of costumed figures and gaudy decorations. Witches cackled, zombies lurched, and princes twirled, all oblivious to my mounting desperation.
For the first time in my entire life, I felt terrifyingly small. The tough exterior I'd cultivated for so long crumbled away, leaving me raw and exposed. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the colors around me.
"Jason!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "JASON!"
But my cries were swallowed by the cacophony of the Halloween night. Music blared from every direction, punctuated by drunken laughter and the occasional shriek from a haunted house. The crowd surged around me, a relentless tide threatening to sweep me away.
I spun in a circle, searching desperately for any sign of Jason's Ghostbusters costume. But everywhere I looked, I saw only strangers’ faces, some hidden behind masks, others painted in garish makeup. Each unfamiliar visage sent a fresh wave of panic through me.
The tears spilled over. I didn't care if looked weak. All that mattered was finding Jason. My Jason. My sweet, gentle boy who trusted me to keep him safe.
“I can’t do this alone.” I decide momentarily trying to figure out my next step. “The first twenty-four hours is the most important.” I dial Jason’s mother, Emily’s number into my phone.
As it rings I praise the Goddess that I took her phone number the night we met.
“You’ve got Emily Parker.” She answered.
“Ms. Parker, It’s Erica.” My tears pour down my cheek. Laced with crushing loneliness and fear for the safety of my fated one. “I need your help. Your son was kidnapped tonight.” I will tell her everything. And we will solve this together.
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