Scream Season

By L.C. DeMaio

What happens when a park attraction becomes way too real?

Semi-reformed delinquent Joel, back home on Fall break from college, takes his younger sister and her new boyfriend to Scream Season, the local theme park’s annual Halloween event. With his two best friends tagging along, Joel’s confrontational personality quickly turns the evening into a series of embarrassing incidents. But after a strange, intense encounter with a masked man roaming the grounds, Joel’s sister and her boyfriend wind up missing, spurring him and his friends into a dangerous search, where they will stumble upon a gruesome secret hidden within the walls of this decades old park. A secret that should have just stayed a rumor.

Tensions will raise, friendships will be tested, and blood will be spilt. Little does Joel know, tonight is only the beginning of his nightmare.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L.C. DeMaio
• Release date: Oct 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370160617

L.C. DeMaio

L.C. DeMaio is a fiction writer native to New Jersey with a passion for history, sarcasm, and getting into pointless arguments. Growing up on authors like Stephen King and Harlan Coben, L.C. developed an affinity for the Horror, Thriller and Crime genres, which he frequently infuses into much of his work. Belting out fiction since the fourth grade, writing has always been one of L.C.’s favorite creative outlets, enthralled by the various (not always pleasant) reactions he could elicit from readers. Using a number of aliases, he’s penned numerous stories floating around the darkest reaches of the internet since he was an awkward, chubby teenager—a few attracting considerable notoriety. (He’s more proud of some than others). Scream Season marks L.C.’s first leap into the world of published fiction. He’s just getting started, and has no plans on stopping anytime soon.

Book preview

Scream Season

Copyright 2016 L.C. DeMaio. All rights reserved.

Published by L.C. DeMaio at Smashwords

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, settings, and incidents described within are entirely of the author’s creation. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, business, companies or real-life events are purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Twenty-Eight Degrees

Tears and THC

Everything is Fine

Joel and the Whale

Epilogue

About the Author

Twenty-Eight Degrees

I don’t remember it ever being this packed. Joel sighed, bumper to bumper in a sweeping row of cars awaiting entry into the park. His fingers began to patter on the wheel, his mind tortured by the tedium of inching up in line.

Well we did get those tickets absurdly cheap. What were they, something like forty a pop? Shane replied from the back seat, strategically wedged in between Joel’s younger sister and her new boyfriend—as per Joel’s demands. Even when I worked here I never saw them drop that low. Five Banners must be getting desperate.

You told Mom our tickets were eighty dollars each. the girl to Shane’s left grumbled.

Shut up, Nora. Joel replied. I’m the one here doing you a favor driving you and your boyfriend to Scream Season. Would you have wanted Mom driving you, pulling you guys out of the park at nine when all the cool shit starts? He crooked his head over his shoulder, his dark, bushy eyebrows clenching into an intimidating glare and his ruddy complexion exaggerating the intensity of his anger. You think our psycho mother would let you stay here ‘till midnight?

N-No, Joel.

So why are you trying to blow up my spot right now?

I was just saying, Joel.

Hey, ease off your sister, man. Mitt barked from the front passenger seat, lightly slapping his friend’s face as a grin filled his own. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.

Yeah, we are so grateful, Joel! Brett called, squeezed into the other side of Shane, a nervous smile across his pimply face. Right, Nora?

Right. she replied. Her eyes wandered out to the sea of cars spanning an endless parking lot. Security guards, dressed head-to-toe in winter gear directed waves of park goers through the chaotic backup, the glow of their traffic wands intensifying as the sun continued to set.

Shit. Joel exclaimed, noticing the thickness of their clothing. You did dress in layers like I told you to, right Nora? I heard it’s gonna be freezing out there tonight.

I thought my brother was driving me, not my mom. she replied with a stiff eye roll.

Twenty-eight degrees to be exact. Mitt exclaimed, glancing down at his Apple watch.

Five hundred dollars well spent. Joel ribbed.

Okay, buddy. Maybe you should get one of these bad boys for yourself and find out just what a necessity it becomes in everyday life.

I guess I’d also have as loose of a definition of ‘necessity’ if my Dad owned a tech startup up in the city too.

Maybe your parents could afford to buy you nice things if you didn’t rob them, bro.

Jesus Christ. Shane yelled from the back. You guys are like a married couple ten years after their genitals dried up.

Whoa, you’re sitting next to a fifteen-year-old girl, Shane. Show some class. Joel smirked, continuing to inch up in line.

I do know how sex works, Joel. his sister barked back. We have a thing in school known as health class. Maybe you’ve heard of it.

Doesn’t matter what they ‘teach’ you. You wouldn’t know shit about sex, right Brett? His head pivoted towards the back as his eyes locked firmly onto his sister’s young suitor, hands still firmly clenched around the wheel, his knuckles turning white from the pressure of his grip.

R-right Joel. Brett replied, slowly being crushed under Shane’s encroaching leg span.

That kind of shit comes with life experience and maturity. Things you kids don’t have yet.

Joel’s black Civic finally reached the parking booth, prompting him to lower his driver-side window. He was greeted by a miserable looking employee, visibly weary from the monotonous backup of traffic.

Ticket please. the employee muttered.

How’s your night going, Steve? Joel replied after scanning the employee’s nametag, a dumb smirk across his face.

Ticket please. the employee repeated.

I’m gonna take that as pretty shitty, Steve.

Just show him the fucking ticket, Joel. Mitt yelled.

Alright, alright. Joel relented, handing over his parking ticket. The boom barrier raised, allowing them to pass through into parking.

Why act like such an asshole, dude? Mitt asked as security guided the car into an open parking spot. Like, was that necessary?

We’re not sixteen anymore, Mitt. The only way a guy like me can still have fun in a place like this is by fucking with the miserable kids that work here. Like Shane! Joel grinned towards his friend in the back.

It’s been like a year, Joel. You never seem to drop my association with this shithole. Shane emphasized, rolling his eyes

Let me know when that whole early education program pans out, then we’ll think about switching you from shitty theme park employee to shitty babysitter. Joel returned, killing the ignition and stepping out of the car. Yeesh, he exclaimed, rubbing his hands for warmth as a chill rolled down his spine. That watch wasn’t lying.

For your information, Shane began, suppressing a laugh as he shoved Brett out the car door, It’s a pre-k program designed to spot early, accelerated learners to put them on the fast track to academic success.

Right, and this is a job being entrusted to a pothead with five semesters of community college and a two-point-five GPA.

America’s future is in good hands. Mitt mocked, pulling Shane’s hood over his face as he poked his head out of the car, obscuring the dumb, toothy grin across his pudgy visage.

What can I say? Shane giggled, flinging the hood off with the jerk of his neck. I’m the hard working, ambitious role model these kids need.

The fivesome began their trek across the massive parking lot, Nora’s face warming into a smile as she ensconced herself into her boyfriend’s arm, trailing behind her older brother and his two friends.

No but seriously, Joel began, embracing his surrounding pals by slinging his arms around their shoulders. Thank you guys for coming with. I really appreciate it.

Don’t mention it, man. We’ve had far too much catching up to do with all of this college craziness. Mitt replied with a grin. Besides, I haven’t been to Five Banners since I was a little kid. I’ve definitely been itching to hit up some coasters.

Coasters? Joel replied. It’s Scream Season, dude. We’re doing those ghoul trail things…uh…Nora whatsit called again?

Ghastly Gauntlets. His sister’s voice called from behind.

Right. Ghastly Gauntlets.

The hell is that? Mitt asked.

A bunch of poor fucks in costumes jump out of shadows and try to scare you while you walk down narrow hallways filled with cheesy props and bad lighting.

Oh shut up, Joel. They’re a lot of fun. his sister retorted.

He’s not far off. Shane said. I had to dress as a zombie one Scream Season and hide in the hottest, tiniest barrel in the fucking universe, jumping up and yelling at people walking by to scare them.

That sounds like it could be fun, maybe without the whole barrel thing. Mitt replied.

Shit, that’s what I thought it would be too when I heard the job description. The first shift I worked, I thought I was gonna get this one kid real good. He was all crouched over, looked terrified and anxious. Perfect, gonna make this kid shit his pants, right? Turns out his stomach was just aching after eating some of the trash the concession stands serve. Projectile vomit right through my mask eyeholes. The shit literally got trapped inside.

Sounds like a great time. Mitt laughed, smiling ear-to-ear.

I’ve also lost count of the amount of times some dickhead has cold clocked me as I jump out to scare them, because apparently no matter how many times they give that stupid disclaimer at the beginning of the tour, these idiots still react like somebody is going to jump out and murder them.

I for one, am very excited. Mitt remarked, adjusting the scarf under his black peacoat. He looked back upon Joel’s younger sister and her boyfriend, the two now a considerable distance behind. He observed the boy’s awkward lankiness, the way his unkempt, curly hair spilled unflatteringly over his greasy forehead, the way his smatterings of acne bloated and reddened his horrific complexion even further. So this is the one that finally met your boyfriend standards, huh Joel?

Oh, Brett? He’s a good kid. Joel replied.

Not exactly the best your sister could do. Although I’m sure you’ve scared all the others away.

Maybe if they could make the cut, they wouldn’t have run off in the first place.

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