The five best friends met in front of the tall, rusted gate of the deserted fun park. A large chain hung there broken, its lock dangling precariously. This autumn night brought a breeze, which swirled dead leaves in circles by their feet.
When Kat nodded to her left, her gang of friends each fixed their eyes upon their destination, the Gothic manor not ten yards from the border of the park.
"We've passed by this empty, unkempt place for years. Who lives there now, I wonder? We're gonna find out," Kat said, anticipating seeing the inside for the first time. She rubbed her hands together.
Cory bored into her with intense blue eyes. "How were you invited, Kat?" he asked in his husky voice.
She quivered. "This guy came into my music store. He looked like a Gothic prince straight out of the eighteenth century or something. He watched me as if he were searching my soul. A minute later, he handed me this invitation on aged paper, sealed in wax and what-not, turned around and left. How did you get yours?"
Cory and the others stared at her.
"Cory, Bren, Ash, Gun? Someone, answer me!" she breathed out, exasperated, tapping her hand on the cold metal bars of the tall gate.
"My experience was peculiar too, Kat," Brendan offered, scratching his head. "All these years we wondered about that place, and then we all get invited inside, and not in a normal way. Something bizarre is going to happen."
"I think so too! Otherwise, why all the strangeness? You were invited in an odd way, as well?" Kat asked.
"Yes," Brendan replied abruptly, putting his hands into the deep pockets of his dark blue coat.
Katarina shivered as chills ran down her spine. Her friend's tone had alerted her to something extraordinary.
"Days ago, I was called onto the scene of a car accident," Brendan began.
She touched his shoulder and gulped. "Does this involve blood?"
"Lots of it, but that's not the point, so I won't get into that part."
"Let's hear your tale," Cory said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well, I was in the back of the ambulance trying to revive this guy whose heart had stopped. I kept going and going, knowing I could save him."
"You would be the instrument of that saving, Brendan, don't forget that," Asher said.
"Yeah, whatever, weirdo."
Kat pursed her lips, amused. Cory scoffed. "Some nineteen year old. A real philosopher," he mocked.
Asher watched him, his lips upturned showing he took no offense.
Brendan shifted his weight from foot to foot and continued. "Anyway, my co-worker told me to give up, that it was over, but I wouldn't. Seconds later, this guy's eyes popped open, and he sat up, gasping."
"Oh my God," Kat said, and brought her fingertips to her lips for a second.
"Yep," Brendan started again. "We jumped back. He turned his head and looked into my face. No one had ever checked me out that way before ... staring at me, like reading a book. He said, 'I've just been to the other side. There's something you need to discover.' I was really freaked out by now, as you can imagine."
Everyone nodded. "Go on, Brendan," Kat urged, enthralled.
"Well, he asked for a pen and paper. I searched around and found one and gave it to him. He scribbled something down and gave me the invitation. 'Be there,' he advised, as if my life depended on it."
"Disturbing," Cory said. "Obviously they weren't normal people who invited us. I think I saw a ghost or something."
Kat brought her eyes to her handsome friend, and swallowed as the anxiety of anticipation swept through her.
Brendan chuckled, and his comment drew Kat's attention. "You were invited by a ghost?"
"I was bid in a most unusual way," Cory snarled.
Kat returned her gaze to her dearest Cory, wanting to expunge the fierce look he shot at Brendan. "What happened?" she asked gently.
"I write Goth, but even I was bothered by what happened."
Katarina felt the blood drain from her face in spooky expectation. Everyone else looked upon their friend as if he just told them they were about to die. Words like those had never fallen past his lips before because nothing ever disturbed Cory in his brooding world.
"Well?" Gunther urged, surprising everyone. He rarely spoke and often just grunted. Kat knew from experience whether his grumble was in the affirmative or the negative. She turned to Cory and grabbed his arm, covered with the heavy black material of his trench coat.
Cory spoke softly. "I was in the library researching eighteenth century stuff for a story. I walked down a long row of books on my way to the Classical era, somewhere in the midst of the 1500's. Thick dust covered the books, and a spider walked up the binding of a leather bound volume, written sometime before the age of Elizabeth the First."
"Get to the point already, Cor." Brendan rolled his eyes.
"See, that's why you're not the writer here. You have no artistic vision for things."
"And you are too dramatic."
"Okay, okay, you two," Kat urged. "Cory, please continue." She squeezed his arm, and he patted her hand.
"I had a point before being so rudely interrupted. You know that favorite coat of mine that I like to wear..."
"Yeah, the long black crushed velvet one with the purple satin lining," Kat offered.
Gunther smirked, and Brendan spoke up again. "When are you going to come out of the closet, Cory?"
Kat's eyes widened.
"Oh, I don't know; when I'm done with my passionate love affair with your girlfriend. She says I'm so much more intense than you are as we blend sweat in that closet. She rocks my world and tells me little secrets about your true size. It seems you have lied to all of us, Brendan." Cory sneered and Kat bit her bottom lip to suppress her amusement.
Brendan leapt for him, but Asher threw himself in the middle, hands up, speaking. "Brend, you know you deserved that one, so just let him finish." Brendan slowly stepped back.
Kat turned to them saying, "He looks sexy in that long, black and purple jacket, Brend."
Brendan touched his chest in mock injury. "Ah, our local goddess injures me. She prefers another!"
She grinned. "Brendan, you're pretty hot too." She considered each one of them. "All of you are. It's a miracle I haven't ended up in bed with any of you."
Asher's eyes widened and his lips parted in a gentle smile. Gunther let out a breath, dropped his gaze, and grinned. Brendan beamed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Cory cleared his throat. "As I was saying before I was so pleasantly surprised ... what was I saying? Kat, was that an offer?"
She laughed and lightly slapped his arm. "Only if you marry me."
The corner of his lips turned up. "Don't tempt me." Her breath caught in her throat with his words. She glanced down and studied the dust swirling around her black boots. How interesting nineteenth century shoes were with their buttons. She sighed, and her heart pounded as visions of kissing Cory overran her attempt at evasion.
"Hey, that would not be fair!" Ash interjected, drawing her attention to her cheerful, good-natured friend. Asher's pale hair caught the moonlight and appeared silvery.
"I'd marry you, Kat." Everyone turned in shock toward Gunther.
Fondness washed over her as she considered her tough-looking friend. He scratched his chin, where he sported over a day's worth of beard growth. He struck her with admiration, standing there in his worn leather jacket, handsome as ever.
"You're weird tonight, dude," Brendan stated, scoffing.
Gunther's lips turned up in silent acknowledgement of his strength and self-confidence. "I am what I am."
"O-kay," Cory began once again, letting out a long breath. "I found myself engrossed in this early eighteenth century Gothic novel when I heard footsteps behind me. I looked up, turned around, and..."
"And what?" Ash asked.
"And dropped my book."
Brendan laughed. "What could possibly startle you, Goth boy?"
"Knock it off, Brendan, unless you want a fight," Cory warned in hurried tones. The hint of an Eastern European accent entered his voice, and his hands fisted.
"Sorry, go ahead," Brendan said with a shade of boredom, smirking.
"It was I."
"Pardon ... me?" Brendan blinked in question, then chuckled.
"This guy, dressed in a coat like mine, and looking exactly like me, stared directly into my face as if he were trying to access my deepest motivations," Cory informed them.
"You have a long lost twin?" Kat stood straighter, intrigued.
"No, I don't."
"What happened next, Cory?" she asked.
"Well, I demanded to know what he wanted and who he was. He said, 'I'm going to undo you.' 'What?' I practically shouted and took a step toward him, ready to fight. 'Was that a threat?' He told me no with a smug look on his face, so I asked him what the hell he wanted."
Kat leaned against him, rapt with his weird tale. "And?"
Gunther plopped down on the cold dirt-packed ground and stretched out his legs. Asher rubbed his own arms quickly to garner warmth. "It's cold out here. We should just buck up and head there soon."
"Not until we know more. I want to hear everyone's story before we go into that scary mansion."
"All right. All right, Kat," Asher offered. The others tilted their heads in agreement. Brendan took a seat on the ground by Gunther.
"Cory, finish what you were saying," she pleaded, hopping from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. Cory wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned her head on his chest.
Cory brushed the back of his fingertips along her cheek and nodded. "He reached into a deep pocket and pulled out the folded invitation, 'Here, take this. It's imperative that you accept this,' the weirdo told me."
Kat sighed, listening with continued avid interest. "And what did you do, Cory?"
Cory gazed at her fondly, meeting her eyes, and went on with his story. "I took the paper and opened it, reading the invitation, 'Why should I? You just threatened me,' I informed him."
Kat exhaled, deriving pleasure in the vibrations his voice rendered in his chest. Laying against him with his arm around her felt so right.
Cory continued. "He insisted I misunderstood, but I knew what I heard and told him so. Then he got really weird."
Brendan smirked, raising a sarcastic brow. Kat touched Cory's shoulder when she saw his brows narrow in anger.
"Ignore him, Cor. Please finish."
"All right, Kat. He said, and I quote, 'You still have a chance, though it all depends on you. But your love for someone could get you killed.'"
"Really? How odd!" Kat remarked, shifting her ear. The thud of his heart beating sent a shiver through her.
"Yes. I asked him who he was, pretty fed up by now. 'I'm you,' the smart-ass told me. I glared at him, glimpsed the paper for a moment then looked up. He was gone, and even without the sound of footsteps."
Kat moaned softly, and Cory pressed his hand over her hair.
"Whoa," Asher stated, sighing. "That was freaky."
"Does anyone want to hear how I came to have my invitation?"
"Gunther?" Kat lowered her gaze to his. His hands rested behind him on the ground.
Everyone considered Gunther now.
"You are very talkative tonight," Kat commented and reached a hand down to warm it in the pocket of Cory's jacket. He shifted and rubbed his hand vigorously over her back.
Gunther shifted his jaw. "Yes, lately I've been sensing this vague internal change going on inside of me. Don't ask because I'm not sure about it myself."
"What happened, Gun? How did you get your invitation?" Kat asked.
"Was it as bad as Cory's tale?" Brendan sat up straighter.
"Worse."
They raised their brows in amazement.
"Can we go to the party now, Kat?" Gunther asked with his usual gruffness hidden in gentle regard. "I'll tell you my story later tonight."
"We shouldn't go into the mansion until we hear everyone's story. Maybe we can come up with some answers. Who knows what we're getting ourselves into," Kat responded.
A sudden gust of wind blew her hair back, and Kat shivered. Asher grasped the tall black bars of the gate that lead to the eerie path to an unknown future, and to that Gothic mansion.
"Good thing we're adventurous," Brendan said, and the others nodded.
)
What if a young monarch was framed for murder, proven innocent, then had to choose between the throne and the woman he has loved since childhood? A young prince has been accused of murder and has been shipped off to live with relatives in America. He is dark and secretive and an up-and-coming writer of horror stories who falls in love with a beautiful heavy-metal bass player, one of his closest friends.
