Out of nowhere, I heard a smack followed by whispers. “Tamra.” When I was free from the person’s grip, I was relieved to hear a familiar voice.

“Shavon.”

Shavon held my forearm and then pulled me in a different direction. “I don’t know why Lyric left you without telling you how to follow the breadcrumbs.”

“What breadcrumbs?”

“Every night, we get a color texted to our cellphones. The color, also known as breadcrumbs, helps us find the club.” Shavon used the light of her cellphone to light up the ground. Barely hidden by twigs and browning leaves were royal blue dots. Next to those dots were pink and yellow dots as well.

“Why are there so many different colors going in different directions?”

“Tonight’s color is pink. The other colors are to throw people off if someone tries to follow them.”

“What if someone follows the right color for the night?”

“Let’s go.” Shavon grabbed my elbow and ushered me through the obscurity. The sound of my breathing became my only solace, as there was nothing else I could be sure of. Shavon remained silent as we hastily followed the pink breadcrumbs. Chatter and laughter became synonymous with my trepidation.

“Has anyone ever gone missing in these woods?”

“It’s best if you don’t ask so many questions.”

Before I was given the chance to speak anymore, we were face to face with a small, dilapidated shack. Although giggles and coy banter thickened, the location didn’t fit the image I had in my mind. Large rotting tree branches hung over the shack’s cracked roof while even the moonlight hid its favor from it. My palms were soaked in sweat as I felt my pulse race.

Shavon led me to a large wooden door and then took a long, staggered breath. There was a massive letter O on the door painted in red. I half expected the door to fly open and there be a tall, body-builder dressed in all black staring down at me with his clipboard. Instead, there was only darkness. Shavon gently tapped on the door to a beat she only knew. The door opened a crack. There was no sliver of light on the other side. My fear intensified as I squeezed Shavon’s hand. Unwilling to calm my nerves, she snatched her hand away and then pushed me through the door. As I stumbled through, I felt as if Shavon and the girls had fed me a pack of lies. There was no club. This was but a way for them to ditch me in an abandoned shack with no food or water. My friends telling my husband about my infidelity was the first step in their plan to steal my husband, move into my home and then steal my identity. I was sure of their twisted plan until I heard a woman’s soft voice.

“Tell me your deepest fear.”

I turned around and Shavon was gone. The door shut behind me and I was alone in the quiet shadows. “Hello.”

“Tell me your deepest fear.”

I attempted to move forward but I quickly remembered what happened the last time I was left alone in the dark. I wrapped my arms around my waist and then shifted my weight from one leg to the other.

“Tell me your deepest fear…or leave.”

“I…I don’t understand the question.”

Silence. A piercing silence that seemed to tear through my eardrums with an unbelievable nothingness. I hadn’t prepared for a test. Really, I hadn’t prepared to discuss my deepest fears with a strange voice. I considered turning around and taking my chances in the forest but somehow, I felt safer there. Although there was certainly unfamiliarity in her voice, there was authenticity.

Without thinking, I blurted out, “Spiders. I have a deep fear of spiders.”

She chortled. An airy chortle that mocked my weak attempt at forgery. I forged my fears with fears of a twelve-year-old hoping to fake my way out of engaging in dialogue. “You being here speaks more about your will than you may care to realize. A weaker woman would have never walked through the sycamore trees. An even weaker woman would have left after being approached by that stranger in the darkness.”

“How’d you know about that?”

“What is your deepest fear?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never considered that question.” She was silent again. Although she said no words, I gleaned a sense of irritation in her breathing. I knew my time was running out. Soon, this strange gatekeeper would realize my trepidation and deny my entry. “I’m afraid of…”

As my words trailed off, she prefaced her next sentence with an exasperated sigh. “Know, honesty is the key to entry. Lies and avoidance will only grant you rejection and a renewed sense of failure on your part. Choose your next words wisely, and quickly.”

I took a deep breath as I dropped my hands from my waist. I shifted my weight to my other leg and then dug my fingernails into my palms. “I’m deeply afraid of going inside.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.”

“So.”

“I’m a business woman. I go to church on Sundays. I’m married. I’m not the type of woman who shows up at places like this.”

“Yet, here you are.”

I spread my lips to speak and then hurriedly closed them. Relaxing my hands, I rolled my neck and dropped my shoulders. “Well, then I guess I’m afraid of the woman I’ll become once I’m inside, if inside even exists.”

I could hear a rhythmic tapping sound, similar to the tapping Shavon did when she tapped on the O-painted door. Five seconds of silence passed before the woman’s voice returned.

“There is fear that exists deeper within you; however, you may proceed tonight.”

Suddenly, the curtains drew back. Before me stood a bright room filled with an unusual array of men and women. As I walked through, all eyes turned to me. I was fresh meat in a lion’s den. My black dress seemed as if it were dipped in blood and the hunters smelled it. Their nostrils flared as they licked the taste of my fear from their lips.

When I felt a slender hand on the small of my back, I closed my eyes and hoped it was Shavon’s. “Mmm.” The person’s voice slunk into my ear as a shiver slid through my bones. “I want you all to myself tonight.”

to be continued...