Theirs to Chase

Chapter 1

Eveline

Present day. Devil’s night

“Come on, come on, to the park for us all. Take a step inside, dare wander and seek, where shadows play and some may never be freed.”

The sinister crackle of the voice echoes through the chilly atmosphere, like a ghostly figure of a forgotten memory.

Screams and giggles pierce the crisp, autumn night as people scurry away from dressed-up scare actors lingering outside the amusement park, having the misfortune of merely passing by. The sound blends with the eerie circus music drifting from old speakers outside the park, the symphony of an organ and violin.

My colleagues at the newspaper—Nadia, Max, and Elias—walk in front of me, taking in the Halloween-decorated park with puppy-like enthusiasm. Our boss invited us to this event, requiring us to write an article to help boost the park’s publicity.

At least this is better than closing the paper for the day.

“What do you think we’ll see in there?” Nadia, my best and only friend, asks and turns to me.

After my parents died, I lost all the friends I’d made. Apparently, it’s not socially acceptable to shut everyone out while grieving.

“Probably what you see in scary movies—plastic skeletons and cobwebs, scare actors. And don’t forget the overpriced candy,” I reply as she rolls her eyes.

I’ve always loved all things dark and gothic, but Halloween stirs up mixed emotions for me. It’s the anniversary of my family’s death by a car crash a few years back…and the day when he —the pumpkin man—chased me through that cornfield last year. He made me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt, but then he disappeared, as if he were never even there.

I shake off the thoughts, determined to enjoy tonight and not be brought back to the past.

That shaved driver deserves to die.

Shocked by my own train of thoughts, I smile at Nadia and hook my elbow through hers as we stand in the queue to enter the premiere of this amusement park’s Halloween theme. It’s never been open during a holiday before, so this is a big deal for a town like ours.

“Shit, that’s disgusting,” Elias remarks, and I follow his gaze.

The entrance to the park is everything but inviting, with large spider webs hanging in drifts at the gates where a host lets a group of influencers enter the park. A shiver crawls down my spine—I’m ready for the adrenaline-filled night.

Above the large gates is a giant skeleton stretching across, looking out at everyone with a malevolent gaze. Around the skull is a large pumpkin, with eyes and a mouth carved narrowly, giving an evil appearance.

My stomach clenches at the sight of the orange pumpkin, and my teeth sink into my lip hard enough to draw blood. That night, a year ago, at the pumpkin field, still haunts me like a vengeful spirit. The stranger had seen right through me, his darkness matching mine, giving me the best orgasm of my life.

Noticing I’m lost in thought, Nadia shoves my shoulder playfully. “You really need to get laid,” she says teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” I mumble, trailing behind them to the host who’s dressed in a clown suit with blood around her mouth.

“I volunteer as tribute,” Elias remarks, winking at me.

He’s cute in a boy-next-door kind of way with brown curls and glasses, but he’s too soft. I need someone who’s not afraid to take what’s his, to claim me in ways I’ve never been claimed…whose darkness matches mine.

It was a mistake telling Nadia about that night. She hasn’t stopped bugging me about it ever since, telling me to “quit” sulking after a man that will never return. Truth is, I’ve had multiple one-night stands since then, but none of them scratched the annoying itch for something dangerous and depraved quite like the mysterious man did. They were all too soft, and I threw them out the door before I made myself come with my vibrator on the highest setting.

“Holy shit, that costume is creepy,” Nadia exclaims to the host, who merely stares at her.

“I’ll hold your hand if you cry,” Max teases, and she rolls her eyes.

The two of them have been an item on and off for years since working at the paper, but they like to keep it low-key.

“We’re here to write an article, not flirt,” she retorts.

“Invitation?” the host asks in a flat, feminine voice, her clown costume barely concealing her disinterest as she eyes us.

I show her the email we got, sent directly from the amusement park. She nods, letting us enter the park.

The gates creak open, and the eerie music is even more audible behind them, the dissonant chords twisting the air like a warning. With every step inside, a prickle of unease runs up my spine—the unmistakable feeling of being watched, exactly like the emotion I felt every day after my family’s death, which abruptly vanished after that night a year ago. I pause and glance over my shoulder, but there’s nothing there—only shadows and the host slowly closing the gates behind us.

“Aren’t you going to stay?” I call after her.

She pauses, brow furrowed. “I was told to open the park and leave. Boss’s orders.”

Without another word, she leaves, but the feeling of being watched lingers—something ominous and intense. My eyes shift to the skeleton-pumpkin above the gates, and the breath is punched from my chest when I see that its head is turned to us, staring right at me with a cruel smirk twisting its lips.

The next second, it’s back to how it was before.

“Did you see that?” I ask as a shudder rushes through me.

“What?” Max asks.

“Nothing,” I mumble, continuing to walk with Nadia’s arm clutched in mine, still uneasy.

“You need to stop watching scary movies, it makes you paranoid,” Nadia jokes, and I scoff.

“Please, as if I will ever stop watching those.”

Darkness has long since descended, with the surroundings only illuminated by the park’s glowing carousels and streetlamps. It’s breathtaking as we venture deeper into the park, a beautiful transformation from an ordinary amusement park to a Halloween wonderland. Pumpkins in various sizes and shapes are scattered around, and hay bales form a path, guiding us forward. The distinct smell of fresh hay fills the air, mixing with the autumn breeze as we take in the decorations—even barren bushes are draped in cobwebs.

“What do you want to do first?” Elias asks, already prepared with paper and pen to jot down every detail.

“Let’s go on some roller coasters!” Nadia exclaims, ever the thrill-seeker.

We trail behind the guys, trying to stay focused on my work while soaking in the details for our article. I’m the one to oversee it, weaving descriptions and adding depth to the narrative, while Elias writes down the basis. Nadia proofreads, and Max gathers visual elements to our content. After my parents died, words were the only way to express myself.

Even with how much I try, that unsettling prickling sensation of being watched persists, and every glance over my shoulder reveals more of the park’s dark corners.

I let go of Nadia’s arm, turning around, positive I will see someone there. Very true—a man in a white shirt and black tie stands behind a tree covered in dolls, half of his masked face visible. It’s cracked in multiple places, appearing like a ghost from a time long ago.

My stomach somersaults, because there’s something in his gaze that calls to me. His intensity is enough to suck out all the oxygen inside me, his shoulders broad and stretching across the shirt. Was he the one watching me before I entered the park?

I draw in a sharp gasp when he tilts his head, studying me closely. If he didn’t wear a mask, I swear I would see his eyes roving over every inch of me, as if memorizing me.

He doesn’t even seem to be breathing, remaining utterly motionless. Before I can grasp the situation, something glints in the light—a serrated blade that has my breath hitching.

“Eveline! Are you coming?” Nadia’s voice startles me, and I look at her, seeing as they’ve already approached the part of the park that holds all the carousels.

“I’m coming,” I absent-mindedly reply, glancing over my shoulder to look where I saw the person, but he’s gone.

I laugh nervously, jogging to catch up to Nadia. “Did you see that scare actor? He was creepy as fuck.”

She looks at me, confused. “What scare actor?”

“Stop trying to scare me. It’s not funny.”

“I didn’t—”

She’s interrupted by Max who whoops, giving Elias a high five as we stand before a roller coaster that loops upside down.

Oh fuck, are they shitting with me?

“Guys—” I begin to protest.

If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being turned upside down. The memory rushes back, vivid and visceral—my parents’ car tumbling over the bridge and plunging into the dark water below.

“Come on, it will be fun!” Max exclaims, standing behind some influencers.

“I hate you,” I mumble, entering the small house that serves as the entrance to the ride.

Inside, the bright light flickers on, illuminating a panel with instructions behind the counter for how the roller coaster operates. One of the influencers eagerly moves to start the timer, while everyone else scatters to find their seats.

An automatic voice echoes through the speakers. “Please put all loose belongings, such as phones and caps, in the lockboxes to your left.”

Just then, my phone rings, its shrill sound scaring me half to death. Confused, I frown at the screen.

“Guys, it’s our boss,” I say, trying to make sense of the interruption. Sofia Rosén, whom Rosén Newspaper is named after—wouldn’t call me this late unless it was urgent.

“Pick it up,” Elias advises, as he stashes his own phone in a lockbox.

I obey. “Hi, Sofia.”

“Where are you?” Her voice crackles with concern evident through the static.

“I’m at the amusement park. Nadia, Elias, and Max are here too. We’re working on the article you invited us to.”

While everyone double-checks their belts and the roller coaster slowly begins to move, a pulse of excitement thrums through the group, but all I can feel is a heavy lead weight settling in my stomach.

“Eveline, what invitation? You were supposed to close the paper today.”

“You wrote in your email that you had someone else close it so that I could attend this event.”

By now, my ears are pounding, confused about what the fuck she’s talking about. The ride starts moving slowly, and the eerie carnival music playing in the distance only amplifies the tension. Its beat perfectly matches the one of my heart.

“I never sent you an email. Eveline, what are you talking about?”

I lower the phone, my eyes meeting those of my colleagues in front of me. This coaster has a set of two and two facing each other. They look back at me, puzzled by the sudden shift in my demeanor.

Then, without warning, the cart comes to a jarring stop as complete darkness envelops the park—not even the carousels are glowing. We’re trapped in our seats, the silence only broken by the murmurs of the influencers before us.

Yet, all I can hear is a breathy, sinister chuckle roaming through the distance. The same voice from when we entered the park echoes through the small house as the speakers start.

“Come on, come on, to the park for us all. Take a step inside, dare wander and seek, where shadows play and some may never be freed.”