21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

Haunted House

"The big brave Mickey is scared?" He asked with a soft chuckle.

I smacked his chest. "I'm serious, Tom."

"Hey, how's the leg? And your chest?" He asked, referring to my gun shot wounds from about a month ago.

"The least of my concerns right now," I said, darting my eyes toward every little noise I heard in the nearly pitch black establishment. "Oh, I'm already nauseous."

It was my first assignment back after the accident, and it was supposed to be nice and easy. I had to have a psychological evaluation and permission from a physician in order to come back. Fuller was persistent with Tom and made sure that he promised to make sure I took it easy. However, easy is not in my vocabulary. Tom tried to talk me out of going through the haunted maze, but I was confident that I would be fine. I tend to have false confidence when it comes to all things horror.

When I walked through the twists and turns, I was practically running into him because I was so close. I began muttering to myself and shrieked loudly when someone with a mask jumped out at us. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, making my heart throb in my chest. I could feel my pulse in my neck, and my fingertips.

"Give me some breathing room, will ya?" Tom said and nudged me gently with his shoulder.

"Shit, sorry." I could feel my voice trembling. It even hurt to swallow. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and my back was so tight from anxiety that someone was going to pop out at us at any moment.

Tom laughed and slung his arm around my shoulders. "You're safe with me, I promise."

We approached a section of the haunted maze where a man with a butchers apron stood behind a large table full of bloody meats, wielding a bloody butchers knife, shouting that we were next. A mangled kid was placed on a meat hook, and he screamed and reached out to us after playing dead.

I screeched and stumbled backwards into Tom's chest. He said, "it's okay, that one's done. The room is safe."

Then, a hidden door right beside us opened and a cannibal popped out wielding a knife. I quickly ducked and ran passed him with a small shriek. I even found myself reaching for my gun at my hip that wasn't there. Tom caught up with me and I said under my breath, "God, I hate that guy."

We got to the end of one of the hallways where there was a scarecrow sitting on a bench. I froze and looked to Tom and said, "you go first."

He chuckled and hesitated before he walked up to the bench. "Real or not?" He extended his leg and tapped the scarecrow with his foot and said, "okay, not real. Good."

We turned a corner and I felt something tap my shoulder. It was a killer-clown, who screamed at me, and I screamed at him back. My knees buckled from fear and Tom was quick to catch me and lifted me back up to my feet.

"You are such a scaredy-cat," Tom said with a slight chuckle. He rubbed my arm and asked, "are you okay?"

I closed my eyes as I continued walking next to him. In short, I was terrified. I kept going back to the shooting and thinking my killer was going to emerge from the shadows and finish the job. This was a terrible idea, but I had to keep reminding myself that it's just for fun, and it's all fake. I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe. My arms were tight by my sides and I said, "I don't care what you call me, man, just get me out of here."

"Okay, it's okay, you're okay. We are almost done," Tom reassured, rubbing my shoulders and leading me through of the maze. "Oh shit."

I probably shouldn't have opened my eyes, but I did anyway. We were in a dark room completely full of mirrors, with a bunch of people dressed as Michael Myers. There were so many mirrors, I couldn't tell what was a statue, a person, or a reflection.