Dark Hedges

The Blood Spattered Dancefloor

What a party, what a night. What a brilliant way to say goodbye.

Standing on the edge of the haunted forest, looking straight ahead at the birthplace of chaos and vanity, Jonathan Gossett paced around the small space that his stormy mind occupied. Hidden in the shadows still, lurking from behind a natural curtain of deceit, he glanced at the silver clock on his wrist every now and then. He needed to wait for the right moment. He only had one shot at this. It needed to go perfectly.

The long, black hands of the clock moved at a steady rhythm, he knew that much. And yet, they somehow went slower this night. He looked again. Thirty to midnight. He took a deep breath, drying the sweat from his hands in his elegant, rented jacket. He spent a month's salary in the tuxedo, but it was necessary. He needed to look the part if he wanted to enter the Stag's Dominion.

The lights of an incoming car made him unconsciously retreat back to the trees. He squinted and saw Anthony Fawcett stepping out of his burgundy Camaro. The hulking lacrosse player opened the door for his date, Bianca Garrick, sister of Jonathan's high school crush, Rayna Garrick.

The two of them were shining jewels of the Hedges. Him, tall, athletic, masculine and exemplary. Her, beautiful, elegant, poised and charming. From the distance, Jonathan clung to a tree and watched as they entered the Dominion. They walked on air, floating above it all, while he dragged his feet on the ground, barely able to keep up. He ran while they strutted, he tried while they succeeded.

He was tired. He had enough.

His eyes travelled to his clock once again. Twenty to midnight. The time was now.

His heart raced to the beat of the night and he noticed he had been biting his lower lip for as long as he had stood in that darkness. Yet, when he walked, his steps were firm, certain. No second thoughts, no looking back. A man on a mission, that's what he was. As he approached the door to the Dominion, the pounding in his head became considerable. He took two or three deep breaths, resisting the pain to the best of his abilities.

"Invitation?" The imposing guard at the door asked, his eyes guarded behind black shades despite there being no sunlight to hide from.

Silently, Jonathan placed his iPhone under the scanner. His heart stopped for a second as his mind sped with thoughts of exclusion. It wouldn't be the first time he was turned away from a party. But tonight would be different. This night he had the key. He had been given it. His entry was ensured.

The scanner glowed in green and a soft relief took over his body. He smiled, put his phone back in his jacket pocket and went through the door with all the certainty that came with a sense of belonging.

"Enjoy the party, Mr. Wenscombe," he heard the guard say but he didn't reply.

A true stag would never.

The room sparkled. Literally. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, a gross reminder of just how over-the-top these affairs were. Curtains of white and silver lights divided the room, hindering movement, hiding the faces of the Stags, concealing their lies behind drapes of shiny luminescence. Champagne fountains poured from every table, rivers of madness waiting to happen. And from the wrists, necks and ears of every woman, sparkling glows scintillated, the frosting on top of their precious selves.

The music blasted from the speakers in every corner of the room, inspiring the horde of hormonal, swaying bodies to ram against each other. For underneath all that wealth, all that Gucci and champagne, these were only kids. Children pretending to be grown-ups, acting like they had all the answers. Like they owned the world. Perhaps they did. When money came this easy, rules became mere suggestions.