The question wasn't hard—certainly something that could be answered in a heartbeat—but it was still oddly unsettling. After all, if Jesse were going to invite someone, he'd at least recognize them. Then again, he didn't have the most memorable face.
Noticing Jesse's slight hesitation, Eric interjected, "This is Jesse, the friend I told you about."
Hearing this, Jason's eyes and face relaxed, and his lips formed a nearly natural smile. "Ah, I remember now—the farm boy." He extended his hand, which Jesse met with a firm handshake.
"Whoa, Jesse, your hands are rough!" Jason remarked with a smirk.
Jesse smiled, a bit embarrassed.
Jason took his hand back and gestured to his identical twin. "This incredibly handsome dude here is my brother, Sam."
Jesse and Sam also shook hands, but there was something different about Sam's hand. It was so smooth—in fact, so smooth that Jesse briefly thought it might be made of plastic.
He almost asked what kind of skincare Sam used but stopped himself. Who asks another guy about his skincare?
His train of thought halted as Jason began speaking again.
"Eric here told me you've never been to a party."
Jesse turned to look at Eric, who was now starting to sweat under his gaze. "Oh, did he? Well, he's right. I'm busy most of the time, so I don't usually go to parties." It was a lie—he desperately wanted to go. He'd even joined some clubs and participated in events in hopes of getting invited. But he had to save face somehow.
"Haha! Then I should be grateful you could make it today," Jason said, wrapping an arm around Jesse's neck.
"Let me show you what a party is."
The next hour was a blur. They drank and danced. Jason got so drunk he even peed behind a sofa. Jesse realized he'd been wrong—no one here was judging anyone, and all his worries melted away. He didn't even remember where his t-shirt went, and his remaining vest was now soaked in sweat and spilled alcohol.
An hour later, people began to leave, and soon only a few remained—most of them passed out on the floor or leaning against walls.
"Hey," said a voice. Jesse opened his eyes and saw Jason, his eyes reddened, breath sour, and feet unsteady.
Jason leaned down, his face close, and Jesse raised a hand to stop him from getting closer. "Hey man,I am not gay," Jesse slurred.
Jason backed up quickly, raising an eyebrow as he pointed at himself and started laughing. "You thought I was going to kiss you? Haha, in your dreams, dude! In your dreams!"
Jesse joined in the laughter, their volume loud enough to wake Eric and Sam, who were also passed out nearby.
As their laughter faded, Jason looked around at his brother, Eric, and Jesse, and asked in a hushed voice, "Wanna do something crazier?"
Drunk as they were, they all nodded enthusiastically.
Jason headed toward the staircase, with Sam right behind him, and Jesse and Eric stumbling three steps behind.
Finally getting a moment to talk, Jesse whispered to Eric, "Hey, didn't you say he invited both of us? Why didn't he know me?"
"He didn't invite you. I asked if you could tag along," Eric replied.
"Thanks, man. You really are the best friend I've ever had," Jesse whispered, though a thought nagged at him. Why had Eric lied about the invite instead of just telling him?
Hearing Jesse's thanks, Eric lowered his head and bit his lip.
They reached the top of the staircase, which led to a pitch-black hallway. Jesse shuddered. "Spooky," he said with a nervous laugh. They continued, their footsteps echoing down the long, dark corridor. A faint draft brushed against his skin, and Jesse's stomach knotted with unease.
At the end of the hallway, a dimly lit room stood with its door slightly ajar. Jesse and Eric stepped inside.
The room was bare and windowless, with walls that seemed to press inward, and an odd chill hung in the air. A single table sat in the center, surrounded by three wooden chairs. Jason and Sam were already seated, watching them with an intensity that made Jesse's skin prickle.
"Have a seat," Jason said, looking at Jesse. Jesse glanced at Eric, who shrugged, looking as puzzled as Jesse felt.
Still drunk, Jesse sat without questioning much, though something deep down whispered that he shouldn't.
Jason smiled and asked the most cliché question in existence: "Do you believe in ghosts?"
Even through his drunken haze, Jesse felt his skin crawl, but he shrugged it off. "Nope," he replied, forcing a grin.
Jason's smile widened, his gaze darkening. "You will after tonight," he said, pointing at a strand of long black hair on the table. Only now did Jesse notice it, lying dark and ominous against the bare wood, like something plucked from a nightmare.
Even though the whole setting was getting on his nerves, Jesse pointed at the dark strand on the table and joked, "So, is this supposed to be a ghost's hair?"
"No, it's an artifact of sorts. It lets you see the other world."
All of Jesse's focus narrowed onto two words. The other world? Like heaven or hell? Jesse wasn't one for the supernatural, unlike his father. He bowed to no god, but he didn't entirely dismiss the idea either.
But there was something in Jason's eyes—those unblinking, solemn eyes—that made him reconsider. Maybe it wasn't just a fantasy reserved for the old, the sick, and the tormented. Jesse's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. A quiet exhale followed.
People often advised against drinking for good reasons—chief among them the propensity to do something reckless or dangerous. Both of which Jesse was on the verge of doing. "So, how do I use it? I don't have to swallow it or something, right?"
"No, it doesn't work like that, and why the would anyone swallow a hair anyway Let me show you," Jason said quickly, lifting one end of the hair and holding it in his palm. "Now, you just have to open your mind. Let go and let your surroundings seep in—feel the world through your senses."
Jesse leaned in, ears straining to catch every word. Jason released the hair, letting it float down and settle on the brown suede . "Try it," Jason said, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest.
"I'd be damned," Jesse muttered, pinching the hair between his fingers and laying it on his palm. "Alright, ghosts, my soul is open." Silence. His gaze darted to every corner of the dimly lit room. It was just him, Tasen, Sam, and Eric, who stood by with a clenched jaw, observing.
"Close your eyes. Feel the atmosphere," Jason instructed. Jesse complied, letting a curtain of darkness fall over him. He strained to listen. Tick-tock, tick-tock—the clock in the other room came alive. Goosebumps crawled up his skin as the sweat-soaked fabric of his vest sent a chill through him.
"My mind is open," Jesse declared in his mind.
Silence. The ticking ceased. The hiss of breath, the subtle hum of life, all vanished. His ears felt heavy, submerged in a suffocating stillness. He forced his eyes open.
His heart leapt, a wild thud that set a frantic pace. Cold was replaced by an emptiness so deep it hollowed him out. And then he saw IT Hunger,Mutiny,Greed,envy,unsatiability. A grotesque face loomed, its snout short and round with human-like nostrils, a bald head gleaming under an unseen **light**, and a grin that split its face from ear to ear. The smile revealed no teeth, just cracked skin where it ended. Hollow eyes stared back, empty and black.
Whatever fog of inebriation had clouded him was gone. He was more alert than ever—trapped in the waking nightmare. Jesse's throat tried to scream, but nothing emerged. The creature's grin only widened.