Isabutterfly

Scarlett's Play House
Step right up, but be warned: this carnival takes more than just your money.

Scarlett, a red-haired wisp with eyes like storm clouds, craved the macabre. Abandoned long ago by her parents, the thrill of fear was a twisted comfort. The Carnival Hook Up, a twisted celebration of horror and desire, was her stage. But her performance soon became a terrifying reality.

Blue roses, an unsettling calling card, began appearing. Her mentor and childhood friend, James, the charismatic king of the after-hours exotic stage, claimed innocence. Grayson, the carnival's enigmatic CEO, observed her from the shadows, his silence more menacing than any scream. Her protective older brothers, Everest, the hotel magnate, and Nevada, the soccer star turned streamer, sensed the danger lurking. Even Savannah, her twin, a doctor accustomed to life and death, was unnerved.

Two years of unease culminated in a terrifying home invasion. No longer the naive actress, Scarlett was ready. She lunged, tearing away the Ghostface mask, the reveal plunging her into a nightmare far more intimate and twisted than any carnival act. The horror she sought had finally found her and its name was Grayson.

Scarlett's Play House

Savannah was trying to get me to eat—again.

"You haven't touched your sandwich."

"I'm eating the chips," I mumbled, crunching a sour cream & onion like it counted.

"I need a nap and about six months of therapy."

Everest let out a rare chuckle from the corner. Nevada had sprawled out on the rug, scrolling through some sports stream with the volume low. For the first time in ages, it felt like home.

No stalkers. No haunted roses. No Grayson.

"So what now?" Nevada asked, sitting up and tossing his phone aside. "Are you done with the carnival? Done with that whole nightmare?"

I didn't answer right away. My gaze drifted to the window.

Even if I walked away, the memory of it—the shadow of Grayson—would still follow me. That man didn't just haunt buildings. He haunted people.

"I don't think it's over yet," I said softly.

A buzz from my phone cut through the silence.

But I knew who it was before I opened it.

"You said you wanted the truth. I found something. It's worse than we thought. Grayson had a wife."

My breath caught. I read the next part slowly, lips barely moving.

"She disappeared five years ago. Some say she was pregnant. Others say he killed her. No body. No trail. Only rumors. You need to see this. I'll send the address."

I stared at the message, the words imprinting like burns on my mind.

"Mental detour?" Savannah asked, noticing my frozen expression.

I shook my head slowly, trying to act like my world hadn't just tilted.

"No... not a detour," I murmured. "Just... a fork in the road."

Because suddenly, I wasn't just trying to beat Grayson at a game anymore.

And if that ghost was real—if there was any truth to what Elias said—then everything I knew about Grayson… was only the beginning.

Chapter 49