true colors - jb & ag 《completed》

{thirty}

Ariana jogged up the driveway to Bieber House, feeling like she was trapped in a bad slasher film. Mom had replaced the outside lights with orange bulbs that flashed on and off at random intervals, and as Ariana climbed the porch steps a dozen glowing jack-o'-lanterns leered back at her. She opened the front door to the dimly lit foyer and flinched so hard she almost peed her pants. A ghost with a skeletal face floated in the mirror. As she watched with her hand clutched to her thudding chest, the image flickered and she turned to see the hologram machine hidden behind a plant. Her mom had done too good a job turning the place into a haunted house. Not that it needed much help.

Shutting the door behind her, she called, "Mom? Justin?"

No answer. She didn't even hear Rainn scampering around.

In the kitchen, Ariana found trays of food covered in plastic, and the hot spiced cider simmering in the Crock-Pot made her mouth water. She set the journal on the counter, pulled out her phone, and saw that she had several missed calls from Justin and a text from her mom saying she and Rainn had decided to go to the ball to catch the headless horseman's ride. Ariana turned her ringer back on and checked the time. It was five minutes until midnight.

A bang from upstairs caused her to whirl around. "Justin?" When she didn't hear a response, she began to worry. He tried to hide it, but he still hadn't fully recovered after his accident. She raced down the hall, then flew up the stairs and saw a light shining from his bedroom. "Jay?" She peeked her head in, but the room was empty.

A shuffling noise sounded down the hall, and her pulse leaped into her fingertips. If he was playing a trick on her, she would never forgive him. Her steps slowed. With the way they'd left things at the party, a prank didn't seem appropriate. The hairs rose on Ariana's arms and she tiptoed back toward her room. Was someone in the house with her? Or had the famous Bieber ghost finally come to call?

The curtains in her room were open so she could just see the outline of a figure sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace. He was dressed all in black, a bandanna tied around his head, but his face was in shadow. "Justin?" she whispered and took a step into the room.

"Do you believe we all have to answer for our sins?" The voice was gruff and unrecognizable.

Ariana flipped the light switch, but the lamp didn't turn on. The dark figure tensed, his hands braced on the chair arms. What was it Lisa had said earlier? "Follow your instincts, and if something doesn't feel right, you cut and run . . . or you die."

With that in mind, Ariana spun on her heel. But before she'd gotten two steps, something jerked her back. She twisted and struck out, but the guy in the mask held her wings in his gloved hands. She filled her lungs and screamed as he yanked her against him, wrapped an arm around her waist, and forced her backward into the room. He lifted her off her feet, and Ariana kicked back, the heel of her boot connecting with his leg just before he hurled her onto the bed. He slammed the door shut and turned to face her.

"I told you if you didn't give me my key back, I'd crush more than your wings."

Ariana gasped. Colin stalked toward her and she could see he still wore his clown makeup under a ragged black cloth he'd cut eye holes into and tied around his head. Ariana swallowed a rush of paralyzing fear. He'd dressed like Justin for a reason. She sat up, but he rushed forward and pushed her back down on the mattress, grasping her calf as he pulled a wicked-looking knife out of his belt. It was curved at the end like the blade you would use to gut a deer.

"I'd stay still if I were you."

Ariana stopped moving. Tingles rushed down her shoulders and numbed her all the way to her toes. He was going to kill her. She could see it in his eyes.