The Demon's Virgin

Entry 4)Human Monsters

Suddenly, a question sparked my curiosity. "I never asked, man. Who's here?"

"Tyson Jeter, Tiffany Otto, Alyssa Thomkins, Erica Washington, John Stephens, Rachel Gilmore, and Storm Matthews," Jake said, almost sounding like he was reading from an imaginary list.

One name sent a rush of butterflies fluttering up my spine. "Rachel Gilmore?! The gorgeous transfer student I've been crushing on? Dude, why the hell didn't you mention this!?" I lamented. I would have showered this morning and doused myself in extra cologne.

"Shh," Jake chided me, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because, man, tonight's not about fun. It's about getting shit done."
"What the hell does that mean?" I demanded, but I received no answer as I was led into the creaky and creepy cabin. Despite its dilapidated exterior with a partially collapsed roof and shattered windows, the interior was even worse. The cabin looked like it had been built in the seventeenth century. Holes pockmarked the walls, and the floors were riddled with cracks and yawning gaps. Thick cobwebs and dust bunnies adorned every corner, evidence that this house hadn't seen a proper cleaning in probably a decade or longer. If Jake hadn't been carrying a hefty flashlight, I might have stumbled through the decaying floorboards. Rotten and forgotten items—rocking chairs, decrepit tables, and ancient pots and pans—were scattered about. Tattered shreds of curtain lay strewn in one corner, suggesting a raccoon or squirrel had taken to them. Cobwebs draped the majority of corners and old furniture, some no longer even inhabited by spiders. As repulsive as the place was, Jake still hadn't explained why we were here instead of partying in someone's basement or garage.

"I feel like I'm one step away from needing a tetanus shot." I complained with honesty.

"Quiet," Jake scolded as the murmured voices coming from the freaky basement grew silent. He drew a deep breath before sighing. "Got him," Jake loudly announced, nodding for me to follow him down the basement.

Hopefulness flooded through me as I followed. Did this mean 'the' Rachel Gilmore likes me? We exchanged chit-chat almost every day where I made sure to go out of my way to show I was interested. I haven't been able to get a good read on her reciprocating, so I've neglected to ask her out. But if she is interested in me, that totally throws away my slow eight-week plan of snagging her. Coming down the stairs after Jake, I was expecting to see a slew of people drinking or smoking. Maybe the music was on, lights were dimmed, and people who were paired off as a couple would be making out in the corners. I knew from the school rumor mill Erica and Tyson were seeing each other. I couldn't even find myself caring that one of Adam's cronies Storm Matthews was here. My elation at seeing Rachel was too high.

Any teenage expectation I had was instantly shattered when Jake led me to the left of the moldy and foul-smelling basement. Hundreds of candles surrounded the entire area, casting a soft glow. Surprisingly, there was no music, and to my surprise, nobody was dressed as I would expect at a typical teen party. Faces I recognized turned towards us, but gone were the school uniforms, jeans, blouses, and jerseys. Instead, every person wore long, black cloaks that enveloped them from neck to toe. Thick, pointed hoods obscured their faces, giving them an eerie appearence. It dawned on me that they were all dressed in pitch-black cloaks.

"Halloween party?" I ventured, as it seemed the most logical explanation with Halloween only a few days away.

"He knows nothing?" a voice, which I suspected belonged to Erica Washington, queried.

"Nothing," Jake confirmed, giving me a pat on the back. "He doesn't believe in any of this, and he's an atheist."
My head cocked up to stare at Jake. I had no idea what my religion status would have to do with anything. I remember Jake had been a little weird two weeks ago asking me about religion and if I believed in a god or the devil, but I thought it was just the marijuana we were doing getting to him. "Perfect," another voice purred. That one I recognized as Rachel. Gorgeous, smoking hot, Rachel...Light brown hair, bright green eyes, and an amazing body to go along with it. Her chest was not contained by a bra, only a loose cream t-shirt where you could see the beautiful outline of what was showing underneath it. Once I locked eyes with her, my palms started to sweat. My heart skipped a beat before I realized I should put a stop to my teenage hormones as more pressing issues were at large. Why were we here? Why didn't Jake tell me this was a Halloween party? Parties at Halloween were corny, but I could have dug out my old Dracula fangs from four years ago to play along. Rachel suddenly approached me, sparing a dazzling smile that made my knees weak. Why did she have to be so hot...?