~How can you see into my eyes like open doors? ~Without a soul my spirit sleeping somewhere cold. ~Wake me up in side, call my name and save me from the dark.

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The dirty lanterns hanging strangely immobile from the tree's, even in the picked up wind, successfully lighting a haunting yellow glow along the pathway of the hayride and setting up the errie mood of the short Halloween adventure that was to come.

"This is so much fun!" Aunt Sarah burst out excitedly, clutching Andrews skinny bicep and leaving me alone at the corner of the wooden carry-on. Too busy to notice her attempts to try and cuddle, Andrew continue to make a sour-puss face at the filthy sign that hung over us reading, "Welcome to Hell," in crooked red letters.

I snickered under my breath. That un-sanitized hayride was Andrew's virtual hell.

Stereotypical scary music began to play and the tractor congested in front of a small stage, cutting the engine with abruptness. The small stage was set up to appear like a little girls room, with a small pink bed beholding a frilly pink comforter, pink walls with little daisies along it's wallpaper, and a prominent closet door that nestled at the far end of the girl's room.

The girl lying in the bed in pretend sleep looked around my age, dressed at her part as an innocent child, with her blonde hair up in pigtails, curling gently like a halo around her pillow, and a bright dress that matched the frilliness of the comforter she lay on. In her hands lay a giant teddy bear that resembled my lovable teddy bear had it been blown up in size, Mr. Wiggles.

As I observed the stage there was a solid knock on the girls closet. "Momma, is that you?" the actress promptly asked. Nobody answered. She squeezed the bear to her chest. "Momma! Help me! It's here!"

The "Mom" aka a beefy guy dressed as a Mom threw open the door by the girls bed, holding an unlit, fire-safe cigarette between their over-caked lipstick lips. They wore a huge unflattering dress, a blonde wig drier than the hay of the farm around them, and massive heels that pointed out the fact that this "Mom" had some unsightly hairy legs.

."What do you want from me, Suzie!" the Mom's falsetto voice shouted out. "This is the fifth night you have woken me up!" To my disgust, the guy actually picked at his crotch before the girl could answer.

"Momma! I'm not lying! There's a monster in my closet! It knocked on the door again!" The girl screamed in response, clutching her teddy bear to her chest in an adorable way.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever! I'll check for ya', kid." The Mom stomped over to the closet door and opened the door wide, highlighting the fact that there was nothing in the small closet with large arm gestures. "See? No monster! You watch too many movies!"

The Mom hen turned around to face her daughter on the bed, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips. A guy in the scariest clown outfit I've ever seen stuck his head out the closet, covered their mouth in a silent laugh, and held out a knife that looked pretty dang real to me.

The girl on the bed screamed. "It's there! It's there!"

The clown leaped back into the closet before the Mom could turn around.

With a growl, the Mom left the door opened and began to walk towards the girl. "I've had it up to here with these imaginary monsters, Sam!" They held up their hand over their hay-haired head and continued to rant.

From the opposite portion of the stage the clown silently opened the door and tip toed out, putting a finger to its exaggerated lips. Although I had been holding it in, I began to wriggle in my seat at the terrifying sight of the clown; one of my biggest fears.

The Mom persisted to scream at the girl as the clown approached their back, knife bared high above their head. "You are such a little brat! Waking me up at twelve O' clock—"

The clown suddenly "stabbed" the Mom and she fell to the floor. Somewhere between the girls glass-breaking scream and the clowns giggle, I had hurried to the far wall of the hayride to be closer to my Aunt, who was so intently watching the stage her eyes were clouded over.

The girl screamed again and the clown put a hand over her mouth and dragged her all the way from her bed to the closet. After about thirty seconds of absolute silence from the stage, I wanted to get the hell out of there.

I turned my head to the hayride driver who was drumming his fingers quietly against the steering wheel, headphones over his ears. Why isn't this thing moving!

"HE-HE-HE!" A bellowed out falsetto giggle reverberated from behind me. I leaped so high up from my seat that I leaped over the center isle of hay on the ride, by the exit of the vehicle.

Fully satisfied of my terrifying self, the clown leaped onto the cart, ignoring Andrew's shaking self against my Aunt, and started to stalk towards me. I started to hyperventilate slightly and pressed myself further away from him, breaching the beginning of the next carry-on of the tractor. I debated whether to jump over into the other cart. The clown came even closer, it's white gloved hands up like claws--clearly to scratch my eyes out.

Absorbing most of the manure-soaked oxygen in the farm-air I let out the loudest shriek I could make, making the guy in the clown costume cover his ears, and a deep curse sound from behind me. Startled as well, the tractor guy beeped the horn of the ride loudly. The clown thankfully jumped off the ride.

I stayed plastered against the wooden rails of the ride, eying my Aunt and Andrew at the end of the vehicle at least fifteen feet away, laughing loudly at my obvious outburst.

It was then a smooth chuckle sounded directly behind me--the front of the hayride. I turned my attention completely around. It was the hooded man, who I had completely forgot about in his silence. His back was to me and the rail he was leaning against, but his head was turned to the side, eying me with interest with his hidden eyes.

His voice was deep, rough even, and sent gooseflesh throughout my body as he whispered only to me, "Care to sit next to the bad-boy, princess? I promise to keep you safe from any pesky clowns." The stranger was only a small gap away. I could smell a lingering scent of delicious spearmint in the air because he was chewing gum.

My heart began to beat louder than it had with the clown. I knew that voice.

"No thanks," I said shortly. He turned right around at my bluntness. I narrowed my eyes at the back of his hooded in suspicion before slowly moving myself across from my Aunt, towards a safer position.

"I hate clowns," I croaked out to myself, lost in my own thoughts as I sat back down in my spot, watching the hooded man pick up his feet onto the hay stacks in front of him then lean back lazily in the other cart.

"Faith, what were you thinking," Aunt Sarah hissed, "stay far away from that guy, he could be a criminal! Or even a rapist!"

"Aunt Sarah!" I put a finger to my lips.

At that note, evil laughter erupted from the trees. Andrew's eyes went wide with fear. The bumpy hay ride had stopped at a grave yard which smelled of dirt and a fire. Loud organ music began to play through static speakers that was about equal with the sound quality of the guy who would speak up within seconds of the engine being cut.

"You have met your death!" a booming voice travelled to the cart. Out came an extremely lankly man dressed in as the Grim Reaper. However the costume was meant to be serious yet looked more like a silk robe then a cloak. In his hand he held a ridiculously sized plastic scythe."Thou shall not pass! I want your soul!" The man lifted his arms to the sky and the sound of people banging on garbage can lids crashed around the air for a lightening affect.

A short, loud burst of laughter came from the cart. My eyes darted to the man in the leather jacket and hood. They started to slow clap. "Oh--oh--just, wow! This is just a fantastic interpretation," he announced in a mocking tone.

As I slowly took in the familiarity of the leather jacketed man who's regarded cigarette had almost penetrated my flesh, I finally realized where I had heard that voice of sultry, alluring, and smooth quality.

And I freaked out. "Aunt Sarah, you need to listen to me!" I pointed hurriedly to the guy in the other cart, standing up, "he's stalking me," I stated firmly, shaking my finger at him as the leather jacketed man continued to ignore us, passionately rubbing the back of his head as he leaned over the side of the ride, "He was at my house yesterday," I continued, voice becoming shaky. "He--I threw a flashlight at him and he left then came back with a knife--a scythe! He wants' to kill me, I know it—"

I broke off when I fell hard back into my seat next. The ride jerkily began to move again as the pretend Grim Reaper walked over the stage, finishing his monologue. When I lifted my gaze back to the hooded man I almost screamed. Somewhere between the massive bump of the ride beginning he had situated himself at the front of our cart, facing me.

"Evening," the hooded man said casually, draping his arms along the back of the railing as he had done in his original position.

"Hey, Faith," Andrew said, sitting himself a bit straighter and looking around my Aunt to me, laughing. "Looks like this guy has the hot's for you," he joked.

I hadn't laughed at what he said because I had been thinking the same exact thing. A solid shiver went down my back. I could feel the gaze from under that draping hood. I didn't like the desire that radiated from them but waited, waited for him to say that he was the burglar.

"Excuse me, Miss, but is this yours?" His words seemed to have an edgy, direct slowness to them as if they were only directed to me. He must have known I had recognized his voice. "I think you might have thrown it when you became afraid." The dark silhouette of a man held up a black piece of clothing.

My sweatshirt.

My Aunt and Andrew had no idea how to handle the new addition to our cart. My Aunt had become frozen, staring with a gaping mouth at the man as if he was the most astonishing thing she had ever seen. Andrew looked positively frightened. They both looked like they were in a trance, actually.

I just sat there, nervous, yet not as afraid as I probably should have been. I realized then that I had given my sweatshirt to my Mother and wondered how he could have retrieved it.

"Yes. It's mine," I said softly, a frown forming between my eyebrows.

He then placed the sweatshirt in the seat next to him and draped his arm back behind the railing, watching me. Clearly he wanted me to come get it.

The ride stopped at its final destination.

"Everyone, evacuate the ride right now! There are some friends of mine that want to meet you in the corn maze!" a raspy sounding woman dressed as a witch said, approaching the cart with a forced limp.

I felt two soft hands haul me up from my seat, my aunts. I looked away from the hooded man. "Get off the cart. Now."

My Aunt pulled at my arm for me to get up but Andrew stopped her, staring intensely at the man in the black hood who had stood up as well. After a moment, my aunt did the same.

"Get off the ride," the guy said gently, nodding his head towards the cornfield. To my disbelief they both raced off, my Aunt laughing as they made it to the entrance, leaving me in my frozen position. I instantly heard her scream. I could tell it wasn't a legit scream, just one to make her boyfriend keep her close.

"Just you and me."

My heart began to pound at his voice. I eyed the guy in the sweatshirt who had just commanded my Aunt and Andrew to leave the ride and they immediately did.

I stayed standing at the far end of the cart facing the dark man who had seated himself back in his seat, black covered legs spread open in a lazy position his head down to his chest, a piece of clothing under their chin. My jacket. It terrified me how small it was compared to the man's chest.

"Who are you?"

"That's not important right now."

Ignoring the cryptic vice of the guy, I motioned my hand out for him to hand it over. "Please. Just give it to me and I won't call you in to the police."

He sat up a little. I noticed he not only had long legs but a long torso. The man--or shadow as it seemed from far away, was undoubtedly tall. "Come and get it."

I started to get angry. I wasn't going to be killed or whatever the heck else this scumbag wanted to do to me now that my Aunt and Andrew were gone. "Who the heck do you think you are? Give me my sweatshirt before I scream! The tractor guy will hear me."

"He's gone, sweetie, and you wouldn't dare scream."

I stood my ground. "Oh yeah? You want to bet?" My tone was pure sass.

It was then the shadow of a man stood up to his massive height and closed a significant amount of space between us, stepping into the light of a dirty lantern hanging above the ride. His steps were heavy and as he came closer, I released why. The hooded man reached a height of at list six-seven or six-six, a height that would tower over my frame at 5'8. His torso and legs were much longer than I had observed. Not to mention the guys shoulders were as wide--maybe even wider than a quarter backs. Somehow, his body shape had become lean, like a swimmer, when my eyes traveled downwards towards his legs--which would indubitably be a constant trail of hard rippling muscle had his clothes been off.

His leather jacket was made of expensive material from up-close and smelled brand new, although it was obviously warn out. Down his legs he strangely wore dark skinny jeans and beat up combat boots. My gaze lingered back up to his face. I couldn't even see a patch of skin.

You're eying up your intruder! You're eying up your intruder.

And I wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"Yeah," he finally replied, sultry voice and all while he continued to approach me, "because I have the power to silence you, little one, as in you won't be able to scream because there will be no voice in your throat." Casually, after that threatening sentence, he lifted my sweatshirt in almost a toast. "By the way, your candy apple thing was delicious. You left it in your sweatshirt."

I swallowed what could be described as a rock down my throat. I had been back sassing a freaking psycho body-builder who wanted to silence me.

"Don't--don't you touch me!" I bumped into stacks of hay, trying to get away from him.

He came even closer to me brining along a frigid caress of wind. Suddenly, the back of my legs hit a wall of hay and I was quickly plummeting off of the ride. I threw my hands out at the last second, grabbing onto his arms.

His gloved hands instinctively grabbed onto my waist. I was yanked hard back into a straight position, my body way to close to his. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the warm breath that left his mouth. That minty scent. "Suicide over the jacket? Take it easy, sunshine. It's not my size anyways."

"Who are you? Why are you here?" I questioned again, panicking heavily even in his sturdy, comforting grip.

"Who do you think I am?" he countered softly, his fingers travelling like needles up my spine. The man took a step back as if to model himself out in front of me.

I glanced at his dark attire again. How he had strangely sent my Aunt and Andrew away. How he was inhumanly big...inhumanly alluring. Then, as I took in the odd draping quality of his hood, I came to the senses I had been trying to ignore.

Grim Reaper.

I tried to maneuver around him. He mimicked my move, preventing me from leaving. "Leaving so soon? I'm starting to believe you don't want to be near me, Faith Williams.It's perfectly understandable why you want to leave me though, I guess..."

He knows my name.

My heart beat pounded in my chest. I instinctively ripped the sweatshirt out of his hands and then threw it back at his face, nailing him straight in the chest with my fist. It was like hitting stone and I let out a small squeak in pain, clutching my throbbing hand. The guy took a step back, snickering, and motioned for me to leave the cart.

"You're not getting this back now, Hope," the man said, trying to find a place to store the clothing. Oddly enough, he ended up stuffing the sweatshirt promptly down his pants and making a noise when they wouldn't fit. He took them out and shooed me away. "Go. Be free. Run away, my little human. I....I'll be right there after I find a location to store this delightfully scented piece of clothing."

Without hesitation, I jumped over the haystacks at the center of the cart, leaped down the stairs, and sprinted into what felt like my worst nightmare.

"You can run, but you can't hide," his velvety voice whispered playfully inside my head.

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Well if I couldn't hide in the everlasting maze of corn and mud, I only had the option to run.

So, I ran down the corn maze heart pounding. I was never good at mazes--especially when someone extremely dangerous and who had followed me from my house was possibly behind me.

"Have some heart's, my precious!" The Witch came out of nowhere, pushing her gashed face close to my face. I screamed and literally pushed her to the ground in my panic. Ignoring her rude yells at me, I continued down the maze at full speed.

"You'll get tired eventually. That's when I'll strike," the hooded mans deep voice echoed in my head gravelly

Almost there!

The wooden sign I passed said. A few minutes later, I hit a dead end. Of course they put out a misleading sign!

"Crap, crap, crap," I muttered breathily. I then tried to listen for any voices or machines of the food stands.

The fading noise of footsteps sent me whirling around. Nobody was there. You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine, I continued to tell myself.

"Well, look what we have here. Aren't you a pretty thing," a slurred voice began. Even in the dark, I could see the figure stepping through the corn, off of the trail, with vivid outlines of a clown outfit. I recognize him as the guy who jumped onto the haunted hayride. He was terrifying to look at. However, it was more terrifying to think that the guy in the costume had become slightly obsessed with me.

As he stepped out onto the trail the moon above shown on his hand, gleaming off of a steak knife.

My stomach dropped. The guy had actually killed the actors on the stage. Oh my God this is not happening.

When I went to move back he lunged towards me, making me go still. Panic seized my throat, my limbs, my everything. The clown mask was getting closer. "What do you say you and I go somewhere more private?" His breath smelled of alcohol and decaying teeth.

I wanted to throw up.

Suddenly, his hands were on me. I went to scream and the blade was at my throat, silencing me, and my back pressed against a large beer belly. "You have such a nice body. Like a swimmer," he breathed in my face.

On the count of three...knee him in the groin. One...two...

Movement in the corn behind the clown made him whirl around. "Who's there?"

I took that as my chance to run. Without thinking, I tore into the corn and avoided the trail all together. My face and my bare arms immediately began to get licked by the sharp blades of the corns leaves, leaving behind scratches and open cuts from their presence. Reaching an end of the wild crop I fell onto the compacted haunted maze trail breathing raggedly. I looked up, confused that it was lighter outside and saw bits of light up ahead.

That was when an arm snaked around my waist.

I squirmed against a new chest, another hand was placed over my mouth. This one smelled of leather and not dirt. "Gotcha, princess," the familiar deep voice of the hooded man sang into my ear. He was about to turn me around when I managed to bring my head back into my captors nose. "Ow! You stupid little piece of--"

I was too far away to hear the rest of that sentence. The pounding of my heartbeat pumped loudly in my ears, my feet, and my body entirely. I had never run so fast in my entire life as I did at that moment.

He's just as bad as the killer clown.

"You'll pay for that," his voice shot through my head. I suddenly wished I knew what to even call him once I reached civilization. There was no way he was getting away with tracking me down. Grim Reaper? What was I thinking! He was just a man on steroids looking for woman to have any way that he wants!

Out of breath, I stopped. I put my hands on my knees and crouched down to the ground. I felt it was hard to breath. Had I tried to get up, I would have fell right back down.

I'm going to die in a freaking corn maze.

Suddenly, I heard man scream. I covered my mouth so I wouldn't cry out. I crawled into nearby stalks and curled into a ball, at the verge of terrified tears.

Crunch. Swoosh! The sound of something slicing the air made me press myself to the ground. The corn stalks above my head were cut just below my ducked body.

I looked up to see the point of a blade by my face. "Get up, girl," a smooth, masculine voice demanded in an emotionless tone.

I slowly stood up with my hands up, facing towards the dark hooded man. He wrapped the inside of the curled scythe around the back of my neck, pulling me gently towards him. The coldness of it made me both shiver and shed silent tears.

He's going to kill me. He is the Grim Reaper.

Sweat dripped continuously dripped down my face. We were only a few feet away. His hand had moved up the shaft of the scythe so that it was still pressing it's blade against my soft flesh. All at once, the scythe was removed and he had secured me against his body in a suffocating hold.

Electricity shot out from his body to mine.

"Jesus!" I tried to get away from him.

"Nah, but close enough, Hope," he breathed into my ear. I was more curious as to where the heck the giant scythe had went then how close he was pressing himself against me. No matter how uncomfortably hot his chest was. "I told you I'd get rid of that pesky clown. Shoved his own blade into his chest, is what I did," the dark man continued, purring into my ear as if what he had just said was normal for him. "Do I get a gift in return? I very much like gifts."

He's a killer!! A killer is hugging you!! Get him off of you!!

I couldn't because the strong hands that were travelling up my back, underneath my shirt, were like magic against my spine--sending me into a state of bliss and unknown. "I....I don't even know you," I managed. My eyes had closed.

"You should know me," he alleged softly at my ear. "That makes me said that you do not, Hope."

"My name is Faith," I corrected icily, "please...let go of--'

I stopped breathing when his lips placed a kiss at my ear and the cold sensation of a knife lingered at my throat.

"I love it when you stop breathing, cupcake." The nickname made me cringe. He was comparing me to food with a knife at my throat? Was he a cannibal? "Do it again, you're getting me so hot." I tried to grab onto the blade but his hand's held mine down. "Unless you want to see your worst nightmare, I suggest you don't touch this blade with your tiny hands," the tone of his voice had grown harsh, "Faith Williams."

Another scream tore through the corn maze. A Woman's. The shriek made me clench my jaw. What was going on? Why was everyone screaming? Did they see me? Would they help me?

"I want you to stay calm," the purred voice of my captor said from behind. "You will make this much..." The tip of the knife had somehow crawled it's way to the center of my back, "...much, much more difficult."

"Please don't kill me! Please don't kill me," I muffled against his jacket. It smelled as alluring as the mans voice, leather and cologne.

I'm attracted to my killer. I shook even harder against his chest. And I'm not even making a break for it.

"Why me?"

"I promise you, this will only hurt for a moment." His warm cheek then rubbed against the right side of my face like a caress. It was then I felt the edges of the Grim Reaper's hood, then the tip of the blade push a little more against my back, then a voice shout out in the distance.

"FAITH! FAITH! FAITH!" The voices were all different.. Deep, high-pitched, raspy. Some of them I didn't recognize. All of them I could care less about because I wanted to be in that mans arms forever.

But the approaching sound of sirens sent both of us rigid.

A growl sounded at my ear. The chest against my cheek rumbled. "Tonight is not the night, Hope," the man said. "Fret not, there are many more nights with your name on it."

My arms dropped to my sides. The dark man that was pressed fully against my cool skin had disappeared wholly. I stood there, alone, not knowing what to do or what the hell had just happened.

"FAITH! ARE YOU IN THERE? CAN YOU HEAR ME?" It was the voice of my Aunt.

"I'm right here!" I followed her continuing voice with trembling limbs. When I came to a clearing I felt as if I had been in that maze for days.

Blinding red and blue lights made me cover my eyes as a silhouette of a woman ran towards me. "IT'S HER! SHE'S HERE!"

I felt arms all around me. I was so much in shock from what had just occurred that I stood still in the middle of the hugging session until people pulled back that I recognized.

"Are you alright?" "What's wrong?" "She looks pale!" "Is she going to throw up?" "Did she see the killer?" "What did he look like?" "Did you see what happened, Miss?" "Can we ask you some questions?" "

I was bombarded with peoples voices as the blue and red lights of ambulances blinded my vision.

My Mom began to yank me towards the car at super speed. "We're leaving. Now! You don't need questioning you need Mommy's love."

She was absolutely serious.

I stumbled behind her as well as my entire family until a obese man in a police uniform stepped in front of us.

"Mam', I need to talk to your daughter about the stabbing. We might have to take her in--"

My Mother clutched me to her chest. "You will do no such thing! Do you see her face? She's going to faint if we don't get her home right--"

"Wait! Wait!" I shouted, pointing in the distance. It took me a while to register what I was going to say. "He--he was in the corn field! He had a knife!" I touched my throat. "The clown---it was going to kill me--the man....I think he saved me!"

What are you saying?

The man I had pointed to wore a leather jacket. His hood and he leaned against the side of the farm shop, blending almost completely with the shadows. He was taking a long drag of his cigarette when I had pointed to him, making him easy to spot as he let the smoke out from his lips. I tried to get a look at his face, but the way he was leaning against the building made it close to impossible.

"Make sure she stays here," the officer told my Father. The police man looked behind him and instantly brought his walkie-talkie to his lips and started to approach the man.

"Let's go, honey! I have an early start in the morning." My Mother began to usher me towards the van.

"What? I need to be questioned!" I got out of her grasp. Was she crazy?

"Questioned for what?"

I turned towards her. Her eyes looked as dull clouded over as my Aunt and Andrews was when the hooded man had dismissed them from the hayride. When I looked to my Father, his were the same.

They look like they're in some sort of...trance...

"Mom? Dad? Is everything...ok?"

Dad smiled and started to pull me towards the van. "Did you enjoy the maze?"

I went along with it, completely confused. "I...yes?" My gaze traveled to where the leather jacketed man once was, and where the police officer was heading. I then looked to the ambulance.

The leather jacketed man was gone. The police officer was getting into his car. The ambulance was leaving. People were getting back into their cars as if nothing had happened...

"People were stabbed," I mumbled to myself. "He...stabbed them! The knife was real that the clown and the hooded man was holding!"

My Father laughed next to me. "Wow, Faith. I didn't know the acting had improved so much on the haunted trail!"

I was stuffed a little too forcibly into the car when I hesitated by Andrew. "Move it," he whispered bitterly.

At least Andrew's acting normally...

We drove to the edge of the parking lot, where a few cars were trying to hurry out. I couldn't help but feel extremely crazy for being the only one that wanted to discuss who exactly had been stabbed in the cornfield. My Father turned the music on as if it was a normal car ride.

At first, I thought I was going psychotic about the entire thing because nobody was remembering it. But as my head turned out my family van's window I locked eyes with a beautiful black Hurley Motorcycle that had pulled up on the side of us as we waited behind a few cars to leave the parking lot.

Suddenly, I narrowed my eyes at the rider of the black beast. The driver turned his black helmet head to me and stared at me for the longest moment, before putting a pretend knife to his chest with his gloved fist and then tapping his head with his finger.

"Oh, it happened. I just made them all forget," the familiar deep voice lingered within my head, who I had concluded once and for all was really the Grim Reaper himself.

With one last glance, the dark rider peeled out of the parking lot with the disappearing loud roar of his motorcycle.