INT. HAUNTED HOUSE –
The heavy doors creaked shut behind them, plunging Jason and Daphne into near-total darkness. A single dim red light flickered overhead, casting long, shifting shadows on the cracked walls.
Jason muttered, "This place smells like mold and bad decisions."
"Don't be a baby," Daphne whispered back, though her voice had lost its usual sarcasm.
They stepped forward. The floor creaked underfoot—loudly. A sudden gust of air swept past them from nowhere.
WHOOOOSH.
Jason tensed.
A cold laugh echoed through the corridor.
???:
"Turn back... while you still can..."
Daphne flinched slightly. Jason rolled his eyes. "Cheap speaker tricks."
Then, without warning, a wall panel slid open beside them, and a grotesque animatronic ghoul lunged out, screeching.
SCREEEECH!
Jason reflexively jumped back, bumping into Daphne.
"Don't tell me that scared you," she said, smirking even as her hand instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
They pushed forward into a hallway lined with portraits. All the faces had hollow eyes.
Jason glanced at one.
It blinked.
He froze. "Did that—?"
Before he could finish, the hallway erupted in a series of rapid-fire strobe lights. The walls shifted, and the floor tilted slightly. Everything felt off balance.
A distorted voice whispered from the ceiling:
???:
"He's watching you…"
Jason looked up. Nothing.
Suddenly, a hand dropped from the ceiling above them—real, cold, gripping Jason's shoulder.
He spun, fists clenched. But no one was there.
Daphne saw his reaction, her eyes widened. "Okay… you sure this is fake?"
Jason's jaw tightened. "Doesn't feel like it."
From deeper in the house, a child's laughter echoed—innocent, distant, wrong.
They moved deeper into the maze of shifting rooms, unaware of the silent figure trailing them from the shadows.
INT. HAUNTED HOUSE – DEEPER INSIDE –
The air grew heavier. The further they went, the colder it became—like something ancient was breathing down their necks.
Daphne whispered, "This isn't like those regular horror rides don't you think?." she said teasingly.
Jason didn't respond. He was staring ahead.
There was a door—blackened, half-cracked, covered in strange red markings. It wasn't part of the ride décor.
A low hum echoed behind it. Not mechanical. Alive.
Jason placed a hand on the door. His palm burned.
"Don't touch it," Daphne warned, grabbing his wrist. But as she did—
SLAM!
The door swung open on its own, revealing a room bathed in flickering candlelight. A circle drawn in chalk marked the floor—symbols neither of them recognized.
Something was standing in the center.
Not a machine.
Not an actor.
It was cloaked in black, motionless, tall… and wrong. Jason instinctively stepped in front of Daphne.
The figure slowly tilted its head toward them. No sound. No eyes. Just presence.
Then it spoke, not with a mouth, but inside their heads:
???:
"One of you does not belong…"
Jason's heart pounded. "We're leaving."
They turned—
The door was gone.
Behind them, just endless hallway. Shifting. Alive.
"Jason," Daphne whispered, "this isn't fake."
Jason nodded grimly. "I know."
Suddenly, the lights went black.
And in the dark—
Footsteps. Behind them. Getting closer.
A cold hand clamped down on Jason's shoulder.
"WHAT THE—!"
Instinct took over—he spun and slugged the figure behind him with a clean punch. A muffled "Ow…" escaped from the darkness.
Jason didn't wait—he was done. His eyes locked on a glowing red button nearby, and without hesitation, he slammed his palm on it.
But instead of a graceful exit, a trapdoor burst open beside him—an ugly, decayed mummy launched out, landing squarely on top of him.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"
Daphne exploded with laughter, nearly doubling over, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh my God! You should've seen your face!" she wheezed between gasps, "You looked like you fought death and lost!"
Jason shoved the mummy off, face dark with rage. Without a word, he stomped it—again and again.
"Hey! Jason—Jason, STOP! It's fake! It's just a dummy!"
But Jason kept going—eyes wild, boots merciless.
Suddenly, alarms blared. Red lights bathed the hallway. And just like that—
They were outside.
EXT. HAUNTED HOUSE –
Daphne was bowing repeatedly to a furious manager and the man Jason had accidentally punched.
"Why are you the one apologizing?" the actor groaned, rubbing his jaw. "Damn, your boyfriend punches like a freakin' wrecking ball."
The manager stormed over, furious, holding up the mangled remains of the mummy. "Do you have any idea what this costs?! Who told you to press the red button?! Huh?."
"You might wanna stop right there," Daphne said sharply, her voice low and warning.
Jason leaned against the wall, silent, eyes cold. But when the shouting didn't stop, he pushed off the wall and walked forward—slow and calm, a little too calm.
"If your staff hadn't lied about the red button," he said quietly, "none of this would've happened."
The manager took a small step back, uneasy.
Jason kept approaching, his hand moving behind his back, fingers brushing something.
"You want repairs?" he said flatly. "I'll give you repairs."
"Jason!" Daphne jumped in front of him.
The manager coughed nervously, trying to recover his ground. "I—look. Just… just pay for the damage, alright? We'll forget the whole thing."
Jason scoffed, turning away. "Keep dreaming."
"I'm sorry," Daphne said quickly, bowing. "Again. Really sorry."
She turned and ran after Jason.
The manager glared after them, then spat on the ground.
"Tourists," he muttered.
Jason heard the man mutter something under his breath. He froze mid-step.
His head slowly turned, jaw tight.
Daphne saw it—danger in his eyes—and immediately jumped in front of him, hands on his chest.
"Hey, hey, hey," she said quickly. "You were the one who said we shouldn't cause a scene, remember?"
Jason didn't respond. His glare was fixed on the man.
But then… his eyes dropped to Daphne, standing firm in front of him. His expression softened just a little.
He gave a small exhale, turned without a word, and walked off.
Daphne stood frozen for a second, then let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Thank God…" she whispered, then spun and hurried after him.
It was nearing 1PM, but Liam and Brandon were still deep in amusement park chaos.
"Let's hit one more ride—oh! The merry-go-round!" Liam beamed, eyes sparkling.
Brandon chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "You still got energy, huh, little man?" He flashed a grin. "Alright then—let's—"
"Freeze."
Malia's voice cut through the air like a blade as she appeared behind them, snatching both their ears in one smooth motion. "Didn't you geniuses promise Mr ice cube you'd be back by one? Check the time. You're toast."
"Aw, come on, Malia! Don't be such a killjoy," Liam squirmed, trying to pry her fingers off his ear.
"Yeah, just one more ride—ow, ow—" Brandon winced as she yanked harder.
"You?" Malia shot him a glare. "You're the main problem."
She didn't let go.
With both boys now slightly hunched, wincing in pain, she began marching them away.
"Let's go, knuckleheads. Fun time's over."
They arrived at the meeting spot, and Jason and Daphne were already there, waiting. Jason stood with his usual calm edge, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"Took you long enough," he said, casting Brandon a side glance. Then, without another word, he turned to leave. "Let's go."
But just as he stepped forward, something tugged at him. He looked down.
Liam. Clutching his sleeve with both hands, eyes wide, shimmering with innocent desperation.
"C'mon, big bro… just one more hour. Or half. Or maybe… ten minutes?"
That last part came out barely above a whisper.
Jason froze. 'Big bro?' The words echoed in his head like a bell he didn't know he'd been waiting to hear. "Come to think of it he said that before, didn't he? When I got back from the Dork"
His expression shifted, the edge in his eyes softening just for a second. "Does he… trust me that much?"
"Yeah, come on, Jay-Jay," Brandon chimed in casually, stepping up beside Liam. "We can't just crawl back to that dusty motel like sad sacks. One more ride—"
Jason turned to him slowly, eyes cold.
Brandon gulped. "…Never mind." He took shelter behind Liam like a human shield.
Jason looked back at Liam. His voice was calm, low. "Hey, you know this wasn't the—"
"No!" Liam snapped, gripping him tighter. "Just one more… please."
Jason hesitated.
"…Pretty please?"
Brandon joined in, poking his head from behind Liam.
Two pairs of eyes locked on him like a final boss fight.
Jason exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, clearly losing the battle.
Jason glanced at Brandon, then at Liam. "Alright, fine. But—"
He didn't even get to finish. Liam grabbed his hand and yanked him forward with a grin. "C'mon! There's still so much I wanna do with you!"
"Wait up!" Brandon called, rushing after them as they disappeared into the sea of lights, laughter, and chaos.
The next hour blurred into thrill rides, arcade games, and enough cotton candy to knock out a rhino. Liam was glowing, his energy contagious. Brandon laughed like a kid again, and even Jason, somewhere between the roller coasters and rigged shooting games, cracked a real smile.
They were searching for their next ride when Malia suddenly cut in front of the squad, eyes lit up with mischief. "Alright, new plan—food contest."
Jason raised a brow, unimpressed. "A food contest? Seriously? Out of all the—"
Before he could finish, she grabbed him by the arm. "No whining, soldier. You're coming with me."
The contest booth was manned by a round-bellied guy with a long, twirled mustache that looked like it had a life of its own.
Liam snorted. "His mustache looks like a confused worm."
The man's eyes narrowed. "What'd you just say, kid?!"
Jason stepped forward like a wall, casting a cold, deadly glare that made the man stumble back with a nervous cough. "Ahem—are you… here for the contest?"
"We sure are!" Malia declared, fire in her eyes. "And I'm going head-to-head with this guy." She threw an arm around Jason.
Daphne flinched, cheeks tinged pink.
Jason scowled. "Touch me again and you'll lose that arm."
"Sheesh, chill! Just messing with ya." Malia stepped back with a grin and smacked his back lightly. "Learn to have fun, ice cube."
Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off and turned to the host. "Well?"
"Y-Yes! Right this way!" The man hurriedly motioned to two side-by-side tables. "Take your seats! Contest begins now!"
Jason stared at the table. "I never agreed to this—"
"Jaaaay-jay…" Brandon began, voice sly and playful.
"Jaaaay-jay…" Liam joined, eyes sparkling.
Jason's face darkened. "No."
"Jaaaay-jay…" Malia added with fire in her eyes.
"I said no—"
But they kept going. Louder. Faster. The chant swelled.
"Jay-jay! Jay-jay! Jay-jay!"
Jason groaned, dragged a hand down his face. "This is a nightmare…"
But he sat.
Cheers exploded from the group.
Liam punched the air. "Let's gooo!"
Malia cracked her knuckles. "You're going down, ice prince."
"Wait!"
Everyone froze, turning toward the voice. It was Daphne, stepping forward with sharp urgency in her tone. "Wait just a minute," she repeated, lifting a hand as she walked up. She snatched a spoon from the nearby table and dipped it into Jason's food.
The contest host blinked, caught off guard. "What are you—"
"There it is," Daphne muttered, ignoring him. She gave the spoon a cautious sniff, then turned to face the group. "I knew I smelled cinnamon. He can't eat this. He's allergic."
The man paled. "Bon Bondyé… I-I'm so sorry! My friend, I'll replace it right away." He scooped up the plates and hurried off.
Malia whistled with a grin. "Damn, Daphne. Didn't know you cared so much about Mr Ice cube."
Daphne flushed instantly. "I-It's not like that! I just didn't want him ending up like last time , that's all." Her eyes flicked toward Jason. He was already looking at her. She quickly glanced away and crossed her arms with a quiet, "Hmph."
"…Thanks," Jason said simply.
Her shoulders dropped a little, softer now. "You're welcome."
Brandon clapped his hands together. "Alright, enough drama. Let's crank this up—how about we bet on the winner?"
Jason rolled his eyes. "Really? What are you, seven?"
"Scared you'll lose, Mr. Ice Cube?" Malia smirked.
Jason paused, then gave a cool grin. "What's the bet?"
"Simple," Malia stretched her arms behind her head, "Loser has to grant two wishes to the winner. Anything."
"Three!" Liam chimed in, bouncing excitedly. "Like a genie!"
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Three wishes, huh?"
"Make it interesting," Malia shrugged.
Just then, the host returned, setting down two fresh plates. Brandon casually swung an arm around the man's shoulder. "So, Mustache Guy—what's the prize for winning anyway?"
The man chuckled. "You can pick anything from that stand outside."
Brandon gave an approving nod. "Nice."
The host stepped back dramatically. "Now... let the contest begin!"