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

Later that day, my dorm felt like a cage.

The walls pressed in, no matter how many windows I opened. The air was stale with fear and old dust. I hadn't heard from Ana since she left. My calls went unanswered. No updates. Just silence.

I opened the door, already knowing who it was.

Elias stood there, dark circles under his eyes, a man carrying the weight of too many secrets.

I stepped aside. He didn't wait long—he dropped his backpack on my bed and pulled out a small laptop and a thin file folder, his movements tight, anxious.

"I pulled these from a contact in forensics," he said as he opened the laptop. "Security footage from a neighbor's Ring camera. And some... crime scene photos."

The footage showed a figure approaching the house—masked, hooded, calm. It was around 2 a.m. The cameras glitched for a second, and by the time they refocused, the person was gone. No exit. Just gone.

Then the photos. Ana's grandmother, lying peacefully in her armchair. No wounds. No mess. Just... still. Too still.

"She looks like she fell asleep," I whispered.

Elias nodded grimly. "That's the part that bothers me."

Before I could ask what he meant, his phone buzzed violently in his jacket pocket. He checked it, and I saw the change in his face immediately—his entire body went rigid.

"What is it?" I asked, standing up.

He didn't answer at first. Just stared at the message.

Then: "Scarlett… they found something."

A string of texts from a number marked only "Mason – PD."

"Update: Scene reopened. Ana's mother found in the basement. Alive. In a coma. No signs of struggle. Just… placed there. Like she's been there a while. Hospital says no brain activity, but no trauma either. It's like she just… shut down."

My knees buckled, and I sat hard on the edge of the bed.

"Ana's mother?" I whispered. "She said she never knew where she went. She thought she abandoned her."

Elias ran a hand through his hair, pacing. "Someone hid her in that basement, Scarlett. Someone who didn't want her to be found. And whoever did this… they didn't kill her. They wanted her out of the way. Silently."

The implications made my skin crawl.

Could he really be tied to this?

My thoughts reeled, flashing back to the cold way he watched people. The blue roses. The control. The missing pieces of Ana's life… neatly removed.

"This is bigger than the carnival," I said, my voice hoarse. "This is something else. Something darker."

Elias looked at me with a rare flicker of fear in his eyes. "I think we just uncovered the first layer. And something tells me… it only gets worse from here."

Chapter 58