CHAPTER 1: Innocent Love
The pulsing beat through the open night club doors dispersed pleasantly into the quiet, Denver night. Two gorgeous blondes and their handsome boyfriends walked lazily, hand-in-hand up the empty street. Winter break had been a time of celebration for the well-groomed teenagers. No exams, no fuss -- just good, easy fun. Not that a few decent fake IDs hadn't helped.
Caylee peeked over at Tracie and gave her a smirk plus a wink. 'Nice going, girl. You had the moves going hot all night long. I bet your guy is going crazy inside,' Caylee thought wickedly. Whole thoughts seemed to be encompassed in such a short gesture. Caylee smiled back knowingly and gave her best friend a nod.
They were more than best friends, though. They were sisters. Tracie was the older by just over a year at 19 years. Tracie held Daniel's hand. The tall young man with the rugged face was a redhead, and his deep-set eyes made him look like a very noble knight, at least in Tracie's mind.
Caylee and her boyfriend looked much the same, a perfect match if you'd asked their parents. Her man was a little less well built than Daniel, but Aaron walked with the lithesome grace of an athlete, and the stubble on his chin and cheeks was a badge of honor to him. He felt himself becoming a man, clasped his girlfriend's hand a little tighter and wondered in his own secret monologue, 'When should I propose?'
Aaron played quarterback at Georgetown and Daniel was his wide receiver. There was something supremely unsurprising in the story of these two friends just happening to find and date two sisters.
It had all started with Caylee. The younger and more vivacious of the two sisters caught Aaron's eye one Saturday after a well-fought game, and the rest had been history.
Now, with their arms swinging carefree and the blustery February wind cooling their cheeks, both couples felt the smile of the world as if fate had a special, safe destiny just for them.
"What now, guys?" Aaron grinned. He was usually the instigator of mischief, and quite a few of the foursome's adventures together.
Caylee smiled, looked over at Tracie. Daniel shrugged, usually the taciturn, silent type. He squeezed Tracie's hand and looked at her.
"What do YOU want to do, Trace?" Tracie grinned. She loved it when he consulted her about even the littlest decision. She smirked a little wickedly.
"Well, now that I've got a few shots in me and this weather's no longer such a pain in the ass, maybe we could head over to the high school."
Denver High. It had a nice, darkened parking lot, plenty of trees, and lots of escape routes. Perfect for a couple or two wanting some quality time in the backseats of their cars.
Aaron frowned. "You know we could always get a hotel room for the night."
Caylee poked him in the ribs. "Yes, but that costs money, and we're poor college students, remember?"
"Can't we splurge a little on our women? I know you're worth it, babe."
"Actually she does have a point," Daniel shot back, laughing when he saw Aaron's deepening scowl. "Oh yeah, sorry Bro. I forgot that we men are supposed to stick together. Problem is, I have this," -- and he took out his wallet, waving it and then letting it hang limp. "It's a little light on green, and the Midnight Club doesn't exactly have Food For Less pricing."
The Midnight Club WAS pricey; they'd blown most of their cash in one glorious evening. Still frolicking on the fumes of alcohol, however, the teenagers couldn't have cared less.
Aaron took off his wool winter cap and thrust it into his pocket. This was definitely going to be an interesting night. He could feel it. "Hey -- there's the Phoenix Wing Palace. Let's pop in there. I'm getting the munchies."
The Chinese-style buffet was ornate, with smooth alabaster walls and gold filigree spattered copiously on every surface. The four teenagers realized that all of their stomachs were growling and the stars seemed to be twinkling more brightly, as if urging them to go in.
Aaron wore a sleek, crimson, long-sleeved Express shirt and dark slacks. Next to him the taller, bulkier Daniel wore a Cubs mesh shirt and jeans. The two friends couldn't have had more different tastes in clothing. The blonde sisters were the same story. Caylee's shorter, shoulder-length hair accentuated her shimmering, strapless dress of azure silk. It cut off well above her knee caps, hugging her hips to reveal the curves of her figure. Tracie had, just like her boyfriend, taken the more informal approach. She wore only a lavender tank top with a purple mini-skirt and pink sandals. Around her neck a $300 amethyst pendant hung, sparkling happily under the street lights.
Caylee groaned whenever she saw that ostentatious rock; it seemed to clash so terribly with her sister's blue eyes. A diamond would suit her better, of that Caylee was sure.
*****
The four teenagers sat down to a delicious meal. Hastily eaten and drowned in sauce, it didn't take long for both boys and girls to feel perfectly content. As they exited, the wind hit them full force, and now the ominous chill made them shiver.
"It's going to get damn cold out here in a few minutes," Aaron grumbled, and Caylee clasped more tightly to her boyfriend.
"You need to do your job better."
"And what job is that?" Aaron wondered.
"You're my personal hand-warmer!" the girl scolded, and was rewarded a second later with Aaron's boyish smile.
They finally made it to their cars and decided to drive up to the old, abandoned house at the foot of Hangman's Cliff. It was a secret area known to few in the Denver area. On the town's outskirts, after driving down a dirt stretch of road through trees and overgrown brush, you ran across an abandoned mansion at the foot of a sheer tongue of granite. Its once well-manicured walls and lawns had been left to decay, but within that mansion there was still the odd piece of opulent furniture. Velvet or silk covered the cushions. There was also still a working heating system, which was odd, but ever since the teenagers had been told about the place by a friend of theirs, they'd found it to be the ideal haven away from home. It was a hell of a lot further to drive there than the nearby high school, but not having to worry about police and having a whole place to themselves? That was priceless.
*****
CHAPTER 2: Down the Rabbit Hole
Two hours and forty-five minutes later, two sets of car tires squeal noisily over dirt and gravel. The night has deepened, but the moon throws its paleness like a floodlight across the roadside thickets.
Aaron and Daniel park their Honda Civic and Subaru Outback in the circular drive before the mansion's pillared entrance. It is almost one of those stereotypical southern plantation estates -- huge, classical columns shooting up like proud soldiers before a pair of huge, double doors.
Daniel opens the nearest door for all three of them, and they walk in, are soon lounging easily across from each other on two plush couches.
Aaron whips out his iPad and starts to play an app. Caylee avidly watches his progress on Angry Birds, giving him advice for what angle would best explode the boxes with the slingshot.
The tall redhead looks around uneasily, one arm around Tracie, before muttering, "This place is spooky. It gives me the creeps."
Aaron glances up from his game and Caylee laughs. "You're like a bad actor in a movie, dude. Here you are, the biggest and most intimidating guy in the room, and you have to say something like that!" Aaron jeers.
Daniel shrugs. "Just because it's a cliché doesn't make it false, man. I'm just making a point. We've come here a million times, but every time I feel like someone's watching me. It just creeps me out. Ever heard of something called ghosts?"
"I believe you mean spirits," Tracie corrects her man, gently squeezing his arm.
"What's the difference?" Caylee interrupts. She finds these conversations fascinating. Ghosts, spirits, the occult, it sort of makes her mouth go dry, but in a good way.
The redheaded teenager groans. "Please, Trace, let's not go through this again."
"We'll go through it as many times as I need to until it's been hammered into your thick skull, Mister." Tracie teases him light-heartedly before going on. "Ghosts are malevolent spirits that plague the living. Spirits though, refer to any living creature that refuses to pass on, that stays rooted in our world either because of what once happened to it or because some cherished person, place or thing still remains for them to hold onto."
The college quarterback snorts, and it echoes in the large living room. "That's a pile of horseshit."
"How do you know?" Tracie humphs, folding her arms across her chest.
Aaron points to his eyes, looks every bit the no-nonsense business major he is. "Because if spirits were real, we'd have some scientific proof by now. People have been jabbering on and on about spirits for thousands of years, but take a real look. Just look at all the other stuff people in ancient times were so preoccupied with. The stars, the cycle of the seasons, weather phenomena. All of these things had explanations. Our science has proved the causes that people in those old times had to make up silly stories to explain. Ghosts or whatever you want to call them are a dying remnant of that old human need. Nothing more."
Tracie shakes her head firmly and Caylee looks thoughtful. "Good point, sweetie, but if science is so fail-safe, then why are scientific laws called theories? Isn't science just our best guess?" Caylee smirks at her boyfriend, who fiercely suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. She just loves to play the contrarian to him in any argument. She's the most gorgeous, irritating devil's advocate he has ever met.
"Babe, now you're just being argumentative. You know you don't really believe that."
Caylee shrugs. "Who cares? That doesn't make my point any less valid, dull-witted boy."
Now she's playing with him and he doesn't like it. But Aaron knows what to do when he doesn't like Caylee's antics. For whatever reason, and who knew why, this was a turn-on for the petite blonde sitting with her hand enfolded in his. She loved to argue, fight, or even tickle and wrestle with him as a precursor to...other things. In that respect, both sisters were very similar.
Aaron grins, and his eyes take on a smoldering passion. A well-channeled hunger.
*****
That's when things start to go wrong. Very wrong.
Three men burst through the doorway, head to toe in black fatigues and masks. Two of them level semiautomatic rifles at the teenagers while the third, neither as stocky as the one or as tall as the other, approaches with a drawn handgun.
