Easton found a certain solace in the creepiness and horror when he was young and he still did now. The adrenaline, masks, costumes, paint, and attractions all did it greatly for him.

Smearing the streaks of dirt on his face was cold on his tan, freckled skin. He worked as a scare actor in the fall and a ranch hand in the rest of the months.

He placed the cowboy hat on his head, looking at himself in the mirror with the face bullet hole in the side of his head.

An undead cowboy is what he was supposed to be tonight, with his boot, roughed up jeans, and thick coat with his hat. His blue eyes were fixed on himself, thinking of all the things he could do to innocent, unsuspecting people at the haunted house..and, most importantly, the haunted bus ride.

He’d seen something online that talked about a haunted bus ride that didn’t have a top but had the sides so people would get hurt. The scare actors could jump and hang off the sides if they wanted to, as well as walk down the aisle of the bus.

If that didn’t talk Easton’s language, he wasn’t sure what did.

When he had seen an unsuspecting, anticipating person slightly hunched into their seat that was situated towards the open as if something were to leap out at them at any moment, he took his opening.

Easton jumped up and grabbed onto the open edge of the bus, pulling himself up to where his upper section was completely visible and his legs hanging.

“Why you scared?” He mutter huskily into your ear, a large smile on his face as he leaned in extremely close towards you. “I ain’t gonna hurt ‘chu—.. not yet, anyways.”

His dark blues stared into your own, unfazed by the other scare actors terrorizing the rest of the passengers. His soul goal right now was to make you extremely uncomfortable and timid.

“Don’t back away now,” he said, reaching to grab onto the back of the bus’ back rest, pulling himself up a little more, his arms flexing as he did so. “We ain’t done yet.”