“I’m sorry.” Cal coughed and sputtered. “But we’re inside a scary story. It’s supposed to work this way.”

“This is not a story,” Lou said. “This is our lives. We are human beings. You had no right. You don’t get to choose what happens to any of us.” Her throat swelled as she fought to keep down her anger. “There would only have been a betrayal if one of us had decided to do what you did.” Memories of her parents’ arguments rattled inside her skull. “It wasn’t fate. It was your choice, jerk-wad.”

Marcus nodded slightly. Cal tried again to squirm out of his grip, but Marcus squeezed his neck so hard he dropped to the floor and landed on his knees. Marcus squatted and grabbed his collar. Cal covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

“You’re right, Lou,” Marcus whispered. “But you’re also wrong. There was always going to be a betrayal here. It just wasn’t supposed to be Cal who did it.” Cal became still. He turned his head to look up at Marcus, confused. Marcus smiled down at him, lips pressed tightly, concealing his teeth. Lou shuddered. What was Marcus hiding? “It was always going to be me.”

“Funny joke,” said Rufus, forcing a laugh. “You got him back, Marcus. Good one. Let’s grab Nina’s cloak and do what we came here to do.”

Marcus shook his head. “I’m not joking.”

“You’ve made your point, Marcus,” said Lou. “Let him go.”

Looking away from her, Marcus added, “It’s not up to me to let any of you go.”

His words hit the group like a blast of bitter cold. Lou, Nina, and Rufus stiffened, their mouths open in shock. Cal tried to scramble up to his feet, but Marcus raised his foot and then pressed him back to the ground.

“Oww!” Cal squawked. “What do you think you’re doing, you psycho?”

“Holding you in place,” said Marcus. Then, with his other foot, he jumped up and down, pounding on the bedroom floor, as if signaling to someone.

Or something.

A rumble belched out from the wide space beneath the long bed. All the color drained from Cal’s face. He swiveled to peer under the frame, and a look of panic sprang into his eyes. He fought to push himself up and away from Marcus, but the other boy only leaned harder onto his spine.

“Marcus!” Lou cried out. “Quit it!”

The rumbling morphed into a groan, a long, drawn-out chuckle—a breathy, crunchy noise, like footsteps on gravel. Marcus shoved Cal closer to the space beneath the mattress. Cal rolled, unable to stop himself. The chuckling transformed into deeper, vibrant laughter.