Editor's note: This piece was selected as one of the winner's of The Daily's scary story contest.
“Did you see James?” Ivy whispered, trembling. She folded her arms over her body and bit her lower lip, her brown eyes dilated and watery. The dim bathroom’s tinted light bulbs made her skin deathly blue.
“You’re high,” Flora accused impatiently. “You begged me to bring you to this frat party, and I can’t enjoy it for one minute before you start freaking out.”
“I swear, he's here,” Ivy insisted. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she ran her fingers through her thick black curls. “His eyes were so empty, and he was wearing the same Sooners jersey from the night he—”
“Died two years ago?” Flora groaned. “Stop being such an attention whore and go home.”
“Go!” Flora shouted, and flung open the door.
Ivy sobbed and scurried past her. Relieved, Flora turned to the mirror and wiped a black lipstick smudge from the corner of her mouth.
“Hey,” Patrick said, peeking around the doorframe. “Why’d Ivy leave?”
Flora ignored him and pushed to the center of the crowded living room. Someone handed her a purple Jell-O shot and she downed it eagerly.
Sam, a guy she’d been flirting with, wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She reached up and dug her fingers into his short, soft hair. The pulsing EDM song shifted into a slow R&B throwback, and Flora grinded sensuously against him.
“Can I tell you something?” Sam asked in a low voice.
“Anything,” Flora said, and grinned.
“Your little sister tasted just like I remembered,” he said. “Fear makes a girl’s blood so sweet. And to think she ran straight into my arms.”
Flora broke from his embrace and whipped around. Two black caverns in place of eyes stared her down, and bloodstained lips stretched in a satisfied smile.