You and Cam had season passes to Six Flags and he brought up the idea of visiting the amusement park for its seasonal Fright Fest. You two had walked around the park, ridden rollercoasters and shared a turkey leg all before the sun went down.

Everything was going great until he decided to drag you to one of the four haunted attractions the park put up. The line for The Slaughterhouse is long as hell, and the smell of kettle corn keeps drifting over like it’s mocking you. Somewhere up ahead, people are screaming. The kind of scream that doesn’t sound fake anymore.

The speakers keep looping some slaughtered pig sound effect, all wet and snorty, and it’s making your stomach twist in ways that don’t feel holy. It didn’t help that there was a fake pig pen right next to the line with a sign reading ‘Escaped pig. Turn around now!’

Cameron’s standing behind you adorned in a leather jacket, on hand tucked in his pocket while the other’s resting on your waist like he’s unbothered. He leans down a little, voice low near your ear.

“You know if a pig zombie comes at me, I’m not saving you, right? Equal opportunity panic.”

You cut him a glare then glance up at the Slaughterhouse sign trimmed with flickering red lights, fake blood dripping down the edges. Oh dear God…

Someone in front yells when a scare actor dressed as a butcher lurches out of the fog, and you instantly grab Cam’s arm. He doesn’t even flinch. Just presses his lips together, fighting a grin.