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𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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Sunshine stood by the kitchen counter as she sipped on a glass of water. Violet appeared suddenly in the doorway, dressed like she was ready to go out, her arms crossed with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Hey, so I just realized," Violet began, her voice carrying an almost-too-casual tone that Sunshine immediately clocked. "I totally forgot I promised Tate we'd hang out in the basement today."

Sunshine raised an eyebrow, already sensing that something was off. "And you're telling me this because...?"

"Because," Violet shrugged. "I also promised Leah I'd meet her like... right now. We have plans, and I kinda double-booked myself."

Sunshine set her glass down, her suspicion growing. "So, you're ditching Tate?"

"I wouldn't say ditching," Violet said, waving it off like it wasn't a big deal. "I just... won't be here. And you know, since you're around, you could just... hang with him for a bit. Make sure he's not down there alone."

Sunshine blinked, her voice faltering slightly. "Hang out with him? In the basement? Alone?"

Violet, as always, brushed off Sunshine's apprehension with a casual wave. "I'll be back after Halloween."

Sunshine's brows furrowed, suspicion growing. "Wait, you're spending the night there?" Her lips curved into a knowing chuckle as she leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. There was no hiding the teasing glint in her eyes.

"I don't know what you're insinuating," Violet said, attempting to sound nonchalant, but Sunshine could see though it.

"Mhmm," Sunshine hummed. 

Before Violet could respond, a car honked loudly from the driveway, cutting through the moment. Sunshine watched her sister spin toward the back door, grabbing her bag.

"Right, well," Violet muttered, her pace quickening as she opened the door. "That's my ride."

But before disappearing outside, Violet paused, turning back. "Oh, and by the way—midnight. Tate."

Sunshine's chuckled, her posture straightening. "Wait, what? Midnight? What do you—"

"Midnight!" Violet called back, her voice echoing through the kitchen as she slipped out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Sunshine stood there, mouth open, caught somewhere between confusion and exasperation. She hadn't even agreed to anything, and yet, here she was. Midnight. Tate. Alone. In the basement.

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Sunshine stood in front of the mirror, her eyes scanning over her reflection as she smoothed down her hair for what felt like the hundredth time. Her dirty blonde waves, usually tied up, now cascaded down her back, reaching just past her shoulders. 

The faint glow of her phone caught her attention, and she picked it up, checking the time. Midnight was approaching, and with it, the thought of Tate waiting for her in the basement. Her heart gave a quick, nervous flutter.

A sigh escaped her lips as she tossed her phone onto the bed, trying to steady the jittery feeling in her stomach. The thought of being alone with Tate tonight sent her nerves into overdrive. There was a chance—an undeniable chance—that her little crush could be reciprocated, and that terrified her more than anything.

What if he felt the same? What if something shifted between them? She wasn't sure possibility if she was ready for that. The idea of ​​​​it thrilled her, but it also made her afraid of what she might do—or allow—if she let her guard down.

With one final glance in the mirror, Sunshine took a deep breath and left her room. Her heart raced with anticipation as she padded quietly down the stairs, each step bringing her closer to the basement. She hesitated when she reached the door. The memories of that night—of the thing she and Violet had convinced themselves was just a mask—lingered in her mind. 

The stairwell yawned into darkness below, the air cold and stale. Sunshine's hand hovered on the light switch, flicking it on as her eyes darted down the steps, half expecting to see Tate waiting at the bottom. But the stairs were empty, the basement quiet.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It's fine. It's just Tate, she reassured herself. Her voice was soft as she called out, "Um... Tate?" Her words echoed down the staircase, bouncing off the concrete walls. Silence greeted her in return.

Sunshine took another deep breath, stepping carefully down the stairs, the wooden steps groaning beneath her weight. Flicking on the basement light, she scanned the room. 

"Tate?" she called again as she cautiously turned a corner, peering into one of the subsections of the basement.

Suddenly, before she could fully register what was happening, a hand clamped over her mouth, another arm wrapping tightly around her waist. Sunshine's scream was muffled, her eyes wide with panic as she thrashed against the grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline spiking as she struggled. But just as quickly, her terror shifted into seeing things anger as her eyes caught sight of his face—Tate's face.

He pressed her against the stairs as he stifled his laughter. 

"That's so not fucking funny," Sunshine grumbled, pushing him back slightly, her chest still rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath and calm her racing heartbeat.

"I scared you," Tate teased, his voice low and amused as he towered over her.

Sunshine glared up at him through narrowed lashes, her pulse still hammering in her ears. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Seeing as I'm home alone and standing in the world's most scariest basement, I'd say it's perfectly reasonable for me to be scared," she retorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Tate's eyes lingered on her face for a moment before drifting down her form, taking her in with a quiet intensity. His gaze, dark and piercing, returned to meet hers, and a small, appreciative smile curled his lips. "You look pretty, " he said softly, his voice taking on a different, more genuine tone.

Sunshine felt a sudden warmth bloom in her cheeks, the flush creeping up her neck as her irritation quickly dissolved under the intensity of Tate's gaze. His eyes seemed to linger on her a second too long.

Oh God, stay calm, she thought, her heart now racing for an entirely different reason. Trying to break the thick tension swirling between them, she blurted out, "Oh! I forgot to mention. Violet's at Leah's."

Tate nodded, his expression unchanging as he casually shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "I know,"

Sunshine's brows furrowed in confusion, her lips parting. "You know?" 

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of Tate's lips as he took a step closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "I asked her to get you to come down here," he admitted, his eyes never leaving hers.

She let out a nervous laugh, her heart pounding in her ears. "Why would you do that?" she asked, her voice waving, unsure of where this was going.

He lowered his voice, his eyes dark and locked on hers. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to... you're smarter than that." 

Sweet fuck, she thought, her mind reeling as she tried to process what was happening. The way he was staring down at her, the low rasp of his voice—it was making her feel like she was about to explode. Sunshine swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she tried to steady her breathing. 

"Well," she began, her voice wavering slightly, "since you went out of your way to get me down here..." Her eyes flickered over the basement. She clasped her hands tightly behind her back, her fingers twitching nervously. "What did you have planned?"

Tate shifted his weight awkwardly, his gaze darting from the shadowed corners of the room to Sunshine's face. His lips twisted into a faint, unsure smile. "I hadn't really gotten that far," he admitted. "Honestly... I wasn't sure you'd even show up."

A small smile flickered across Sunshine's lips, her expression softening as she reached out to place a gentle, reassuring hand on Tate's arm. The warmth of her touch lingered for a brief moment, her fingers squeezing lightly as if to say I'm here. Then, without another word, she stepped past him.

As she walked further into the basement, her eyes scanned the shadowy corners and dusty shelves. The low, oppressive ceiling made the space feel smaller, as though the walls were closing in, but Sunshine was undeterred. Her fingers trailed across a nearby shelf, leaving small streaks in the dust, as she searched for something that could break the tension between them.

Suddenly, her gaze fell on a weathered wooden box, half-buried beneath a pile of old books. She carefully pulled it free, blowing away the thick layer of dust that coated the surface. As the dust settled, the faded lettering became visible: Ouija. 

In the spirit of Halloween, Sunshine decided this was perfect. She turned, holding the box up.

"How about this?" she asked, her voice playful but laced with the thrill of the unknown.

"You sure?" Tate asked as he stepped closer. "Wouldn't want you to be scared."

Sunshine scoffed, rolling her eyes with playful defiance. "I can handle it," she replied, nudging him lightly in the ribs as she brushed past. Her touch was brief but enough to make him glance back at her, curious. She made her way toward an old table she had spotted tucked in the far corner of the basement. It was worn, the wood splintered and dulled with age, but on top of it rested three red candles, their wax frozen in mid-drip from who knows how long ago.

Sunshine set the Ouija board down gently, the wood making a soft thud against the table. She moved around the table and sat cross-legged on the floor.

Tate lingered for a moment, watching her settle in. Without a word, he shrugged off his flannel shirt, revealing the snug black t-shirt underneath that clung to his lean frame as he lowered himself across from her.

From the pocket of his jeans, Tate pulled out a matchbox. The sound of the match striking against the rough strip was sharp, and in the darkness of the basement, the sudden flicker of the flame cast light across the walls. One by one he lit the old red candles. 

Sunshine watched the flames for a moment, then reached for the board. She lifted the planchette carefully, feeling its smooth, cool surface beneath her fingers as she placed it gently in the center of the board. She glanced up at Tate.

"So, how does this work?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"You have to put your fingers on the other side," Tate instructed, his voice soft yet commanding as he absentmindedly brushed a lock of hair away from his face. Sunshine hesitated for a second, then followed his instructions, placing her fingers lightly on the opposite side of the planchette.

"Charles is going to answer all your questions," Tate continued, his tone dropping to something more ominous. "He used to live here."

Sunshine's lips twisted into a smirk, but the bitterness was unmistakable. "Maybe Charles can tell me what happened to the people that tried to kill us." Her voice was  laced with thinly veiled hostility. She hadn't forgotten Tate's role in that night, nor the part he played in the chaos. It gnawed at the back of her mind, especially since one of the women that had come after her was found mutilated a couple of blocks away—nearly sliced in half. It makes a girl wonder, she thought.

The detectives had chalked it up to infighting, theorizing that the accomplices turned on each other, but that explanation never quite made sense to her. There were too many unanswered questions. Her eyes flicked back to Tate, narrowing slightly. "Or maybe you can tell me," she added, her voice low and challenging. "Since you said you had it all handled that night."

Tate's expression didn't shift, but there was something unsettling about the way his dark eyes bore into hers, as if he could see straight into her soul. "I'll tell you what I told Violet," he replied evenly, his voice calm but carrying an edge. "I didn't do anything."

Sunshine's eyes narrowed, shooting him a look that clearly said she wasn't buying it.

He paused, letting the words sink in before adding, "I had some help."

Sunshine leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing further. "Help from who?" she asked, her posture shifting into something more confrontational—like she was interrogating him.

"The ghosts that live here," Tate said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, as if daring her to take him seriously. 

"Haha. Very funny," she replied, rolling her eyes as if brushing off his attempt to scare her.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

"And what about the thing in here?" Sunshine asked, her tone half-joking, but there was a subtle shift in her voice that hinted at a sliver of doubt. "Is that a ghost too?"

Tate's smile faded, his eyes growing serious once more. "What I'm about to tell you," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "might scare you... to death."

Sunshine arched an eyebrow, her smirk returning but with a flicker of unease in her gaze. "I sure hope so," 

"Dr. Charles Montgomery built this house," Tate began, his voice dropping to a low, chilling tone.  "And here in this basement is where he worked."

He paused drawing Sunshine further into the story. "Charles was a doctor to the stars, known for his brilliance, but he was also a drug addict. His wife, Nora, wasn't going to let that get in the way of her lifestyle."

Tate leaned in slightly, his expression serious. "So she set up a little secret side business. Charles would take care of girls who didn't want to be in trouble anymore."

"This went on for some time until one day, one girl couldn't keep the secret to herself. She told her boyfriend what happened, and he wanted revenge. So he kidnapped Charles and Nora's baby."

Sunshine gasped.  "Terrified, the doctor and his wife waited for ransom demands. Driven insane by grief, the doctor used all his experience and surgical skills to try and cheat death."

"But what he created was ungodly, monstrous. And even after their tragic end, that 'thing' remains down here, to this day."

"That's... really sad," Sunshine finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. She frowned as the story lingered in her mind, leaving her more depressed than scared.

"You're not scared?" Tate asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

"I mean, sure, it's a creepy story, but it just makes me feel bad for Nora... the baby... even Charles," Sunshine replied, her voice thoughtful and steady. 

Tate's expression shifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face before a  smile appeared. "You really feel for the monsters, don't you?" 

"I guess so," she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Monsters are just people. It's kind of tragic, really."

Tate nodded, his expression softening as he watched her. "You've got a big heart, Sunshine."

Footsteps echoing from upstairs suddenly interrupted their intimate exchange, drawing both of their gazes upward. The muffled sound of voices and the creak of the floorboards broke the spell that had enveloped them, a gentle reminder of the world outside the basement.

"My parents are back," Sunshine said, her tone disappointed as she stood. Tate followed suit, rising to his feet, but something in his expression made her pause.

As Sunshine turned toward the stairs, Tate gently grasped her hand, a quiet urgency in his touch that stopped her in her tracks. "Your father agreed to see me again, but I'm not supposed to be here," he explained.

Sunshine glanced down at their entwined fingers, a small smile curling on her lips at the warmth radiating from him. "I won't let them see you," she assured him, her tone confident as she motioned toward the door.

But just as she tried to pull away, Tate tightened his grip, drawing her back to face him. The intensity in his gaze made her heart flutter as he searched her eyes. "What are you doing tomorrow night?" he asked, his thumb gently tracing the softness of her skin, sending electric sparks through her.

"Giving out candy with my parents," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the warmth blooming in her cheeks.

"Let's go out after," he suggested, a playful glint in his eye. "You and me."

Sunshine's heart raced at his words, her smile widening. "Like a date?"

"Yeah. Like a date," 

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