Some of you may remember my story about the impossible haunted house from last year, but for those who don't, let me repeat my warning. If you ever come across a haunted house that shouldn't be there, don't go inside. This haunted house pops up between two other houses you already know. It won't be squeezed in like someone built a new house in the middle of the two plots, but rather, it'll fit in like the whole area was designed that way. It'll be as if the street had always been a few hundred feet longer than you remember. If such a house appears out of nowhere, do not approach it, do not knock on the door, and whatever you do, do not cross the threshold. Once you do, your fate is sealed.

My brother and I made the mistake of walking inside, and now, every year, we are expected to return and run through the death traps and monsters to earn our freedom for another year. If we do not, the house will come for us, and we will pay a much higher price.

Unlike many haunted places, this house only has three simple rules. The first is that the Wolfman is in the basement. The Wolfman is the most dangerous obstacle within the house. He's immortal, insanely fast, and impossibly strong. Once he finds you, your only hope is to run and reach the top of the basement stairs before he grabs you.

The second rule is that to escape the house, you must first find its heart. It is a heart in a very literal sense, looking exactly like a human heart, except it's the size of a large dog. You have to touch it, make it out of the house, and then you're safe for another year. And before you ask, yes, we've tried stabbing it, shooting it, blowing it up, and more, but it always comes back the same every year, except it's always in a different location.

The third and final rule is that if Mister Hyde joins the hunt, everyone dies. I don't know if Mister Hyde owns the house or just gets his kicks hanging out by it, but he is a large man with strange proportions of legs, arms, and head who sits outside, taunting people as they leave. Acknowledge him respectfully, then be on your way as quickly as possible, and hope that today is not your unlucky day. After all, he could always use another meat puppet to perform his ventriloquist act. Trust me, it's not as fun as it sounds to watch, and yes, I know it doesn't sound very fun.

These three rules have held true for dozens of years, except last year, when the Wolfman came out of the basement, looking for my brother and me specifically. Maybe that's because my brother shot him in the face with his magic finger guns the year before, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Oh yeah, in case you don't remember, the house gives you one advantage to make the game more fun...for itself, that is. It gives you one gift that only works inside the house based on the costume you wore the first year you arrived. My brother was a wizard and now can shoot magic bullets out of his fingers when he points and shouts, "Bang!" I know it sounds ridiculous, but trust me, as stupid as it sounds, now that we're full-grown men north of thirty, it looks much much more stupid than it sounds.

Me? Well, the first year I arrived, I was frozen in fear, so the Ringleader, that's what I call the skeleton with human skin stapled to its frame that works the front door, gave me the title of "coward." I was ashamed of the title as a kid, but now I realize it's what keeps me alive from one year to the next. You see, I get hunches, and if I'm smart enough to listen to those hunches instead of letting them get drowned out by screams of terror, they lead me through the house and back to safety while giving me hints on where I need to go, and how to deal with whatever obstacles the haunted house has in store.

That brings us up to last year. Now that almost a whole year has passed, and the house is looming once more in my near future, I think I can bring myself to write about what happened.

My brother and I met up to run the house together. We don't talk much outside the house anymore, but whatever problems we have in the real world, in that hell hole, we both know we've got each other's back.

As we walked up, the zombies we now know are not costumes were dragging body bags that we also know are not props to the graves out front. A cold reminder that no matter how long we've survived so far, a messy end was always just an unlucky night away.

A few kids walked up to the door, smiling and laughing, not knowing that if they crossed that threshold, their futures would forever be tied to this waking nightmare. I gave the nearby parents a cold, hard look. "This place isn't for kids. If you don't want to deal with nightmares for the next month or two, you might wanna skip this one." It was an understatement of drastic proportions, but let's face it, no one would believe me if I told them the truth. Thankfully, most of them took their kids and passed by, muttering as if I was some kind of asshole. Still, at least they left. A few of the more stubborn teens didn't, and I just shook my head. Maybe a better man than I would have done more to keep anyone from crossing that threshold, but my mind was primarily focused on my own survival at that point.

I was kind of hoping the Ringleader would be missing after whatever had happened last year, but there he was, his skin hanging loosely from his bony frame. He smiled, showing far too many teeth framed by lips that looked pale and rotten, hanging there as if they'd been stapled to his skull. As usual, his attention was on the newcomers. "And what are you supposed to be?"

There was a werewolf, a witch, and one kid was even dressed as Deadpool. I figured he'd just get swords, though. Those healing powers might be a bit much. Then again...

Then, there was one poor girl who'd obviously been dragged along by her friends. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The extent of her costume seemed to be some plastic vampire teeth. When the Ringleader focused his attention on her, she looked up from her phone just long enough to say, "I'm Sam." Then, she returned to her phone as if annoyed by the pervy old man paying too much attention to her.

If the Ringleader was bothered by her disrespect, he didn't show it. Instead, he just launched into his explanation. "To get your reward, you must find the heart of the house and return! If you survive, then and only then may you leave! Ready? Go!"

Just as they were about to leave, I added a quick. "He means it. Find the heart quick and get out, or you'll regret it."

Most of them looked at me as if I was some kind of asshole sucking the fun out of their night out. All except Sam. She looked up from her phone with an expression of mild confusion. She looked like she wanted to ask a question, but then her friends ran into the house, so she turned and followed. Immediately, there were screams, but they were intermixed with laughter. The poor fools didn't know what they were in for. I silently wished them luck anyway.

Then the Ringleader turned to my brother and me. His grin was replaced by a scowel as if our continued survival was a personal affront to the man. "The wizard and the coward...again. Your luck can only hold out so long."

I smiled cockily at him. This was the only part of the night I enjoyed, that is to say, rubbing it in his face. "Don't worry your ugly little head about it. I'm sure you'll get us eventually. Not tonight! But eventually... Twenty, maybe thirty years down the line..."

I know, I know, taunting the house is incredibly stupid, but by now, I've earned at least a little something after running this place every year for decades and surviving this long. So let me enjoy my little indulgence, alright?

The first room was always the same. It was filled with slow-moving zombies. They were probably the ones that dragged corpses out front to bury. When we were younger, my brother and I would zoom past them, but these days, he's got minor arthritis slowing him down, and I just stopped caring, so he did his thing by pointing at their heads and shouting, "Bang!" making them explode in a shower of blood and viscera. I laughed as the first few went down.

My brother looked over at me, annoyed. "You know, you don't have to laugh every year."

I shook my head, still chuckling. "You're right. I don't have to. But it's funny as hell!"

About then, one of the zombies tried to take a bite out of me, but I kicked him solidly in the midsection, sending him flying into a few of his friends. These things were never a threat. It makes you wonder about all the blood that always plastered their skin and teeth. Who the hell dies to these things?

However, once we got past the zombies, I took a moment to stop and listen to my gut. It usually gave us a direction to go, but for a moment, it seemed silent. I started to worry that my hunches might have finally failed me, but then my eyes paused at the door to the kitchen, and I realized it hadn't been silent; I'd just been ignoring it because I didn't want to go that way. You see, the only way out of the kitchen, besides the door facing us, was the basement.

Two years ago, my luck had almost run out when the Wolfman jumped me, but my brother shot him through the eye, and we barely got away. Of course, that didn't kill the Wolfman. You can't kill the Wolfman, but apparently, you can piss him off because the following year, he actually came out of the basement looking for us, and we almost died again. However, that apparently pissed Mister Hyde off because he got involved, and you remember rule number three, right? Thankfully, we were already outside the house by the time he went on his rampage, but let's just say there was even more screaming coming out of the house than usual.

My brother looked at me and noticed where my gaze was resting. "It's the basement, isn't it?"

I swallowed and nodded before offering a hopeful, "Maybe he's not there this year? You know, after last year..."

My brother nodded, though he didn't look convinced as he answered. "Yeah...maybe..." I didn't believe it either, but it's not like hopelessly giving up would help us.

As we walked toward the kitchen, we could hear the rhythmic sounds of something wet being chopped. Turning the corner, we saw a man with a pig's head slamming a butcher's knife into a wet, bloody mess on the table. I couldn't tell if the pig's head was a mask or real, and I didn't want to find out.

After a moment, the pigman stopped and looked up. For a moment, I was afraid it had seen or heard us, but he turned and walked into the pantry. I knew from experience that the pantry was a dead end, but this was our chance to sneak past him. Sure, we might have to deal with him on the way out, but it was a pretty short distance between here and the front door, and we knew from experience that the nightmares in this place couldn't cross that threshold. Well, except for Mister Hyde, but he's always the exception.

Stolen story; please report.

We quietly but quickly snuck past the table. I knew I shouldn't have looked, but curiosity is a cruel mistress, and a brief glance was all I needed to see what was left of the body, which was wearing a red Deadpool costume. I silently hoped I'd been right about him not being immortal because no one would want to live through that. However, in this place, you learn not to linger too long on the fallen, or you'll join them, so we kept moving. Thankfully, we were able to get into the basement without any further complications, but of course, that only meant the worst was yet to come.

The basement is a maze of trash. There were pathways through and around piles of old newspapers, broken toys, forgotten cleaning supplies, and more. Everything was piled to the ceiling, preventing you from being able to see anything beyond the narrow path ahead. If you've ever seen the show "Hoarders," you might have some idea of what I'm talking about, but every year, the paths change, making this place a nightmare to navigate.

Through the maze of trash, hunted the Wolfman. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you could hear him snarling and grunting as he moved through the garbage, but other times, he stalked silently, and if he found you, you'd best hope you were near the basement door because otherwise, you were dead.

There were five paths right from the get-go, which was more than usual. For once, the odds seemed to be in our favor down there. As we slowly crept around the trash, ignoring the scents that accented the smell of cement, musky floorboards, and mildew that permeated the area, the silence struck me. There was no screaming, no sobbing, and no growling. That meant we were wandering blind, and that wasn't good.

The first two paths ended in dead ends, and the third led us in a loop all the way back to the stairs, meaning there was only one way forward. Had the house just gotten tired of our luck and decided to end it tonight? Well, it didn't matter. My gut said, "Go forward." so forward we went.

It wasn't long before we heard another familiar sound in this place, a wet tearing sound occasionally punctuated by a loud snapping sound. I let out a relieved breath. The Wolfman must have already found his prey. Maybe we could get in and out before he finished his meal.

Up ahead, the path split, with one path continuing straight and a second going off to the left at a fight angle. Off to the right, I could hear the sounds of the Wolfman eating, louder than before. I pointed down the straight path, and my brother nodded, and we started moving.

The path at the juncture was tight. Tight enough that my brother had to go sideways to get through. I'm not the smallest guy in the world, but I sucked in my gut and followed, only to knock a small broken slinky free. I tried to catch it and silence its fall, but it was too late. The sounds of the Wolfman eating stopped, and I heard a low growl behind us.

The Wolfman was between us and the only exit, and there was no way we could outrun it going forward, so I decided to do something stupid. As the Wolfman rounded the corner, I threw myself at him, curling into a ball as I hit his feet. He tumbled over me, and I shouted at my brother, "Shoot him in the head!"

I looked up just in time to see my brother standing over the Wolfman, both hands wrapped around each other, giving the appearance of a double-gripped finger gun as he shouted out, "Bang!" Maybe it was the Wolfman's torn and bloody shirt or the disembodied arm he was still clutching in one hand, but it wasn't as funny as before.

I knew that would only slow the Wolfman down, but as I got to my feet, he didn't move. In fact, looking at the fallen Wolfman, I couldn't help but notice he wasn't as intimidating as usual. He was...smaller. And that's when I realized I recognized the torn and bloody shirt. It had belonged to one of the teens from earlier...the werewolf. My brother must have come to the same realization because as I fought down my lunch, he failed that same battle and turned to retch on the ground behind himself. I've never seen one of us, one of the players, or captives, or whatever you want to call us, turn into a monster like this. The rules were changing, and I didn't like it.

I looked down the path we had been going, but my gut told me to return and take the turn to where the wolf...kid had been. I got my brother's attention, and we retraced our steps and rounded the corner.

Ahead of us was a small clearing in the trash, with a door on the other side. I tried not to look, but just beside the door was the body of a girl wearing a witch's outfit. Her stomach had been torn open, she was missing an arm, and her makeup was smeared like she'd been crying before the end. I hoped it hadn't taken too long, but judging by the amount of smeared mascara, that hope was in vain. Shoving down the feeling of horror at the scene, I opened the door, and we entered the boiler room.

The boiler was one of those large metal jobs covered in an unhealthy amount of rust and stains. I hoped the stains were oil or some other industrial lubricant, but knowing this place, it probably wasn't. There, where the fire should be burning past an iron grate, was the sickly throbbing heart of the house. I almost didn't notice the girl sitting in the corner. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, which hid her face as she rocked back and forth, sobbing quietly.

Now, the smart thing to do was just touch the heart and get out, but I couldn't leave another kid to die in this place. I walked over to her and held out a hand. "Hey, Sam, was it? You can't stay here. We have to go."

Sam looked up at me with uncomprehending eyes. Her mascara was streaked worse than the witch's, and her eyes were bloodshot as I tried again. "Come on. You can follow us. We'll try and get you out of here alive."

The girl shook her head. "No! I can't go out there! I can't!"

By now, I was pretty numbed to the horrors of this place, but something about her small, scared voice got to me. I shook my head and offered one last time. "Listen, I know this place is... well, it's a fucking nightmare is what it is. But if you stay here, it'll get you eventually. My brother and I have made it out of here dozens of times. Come with us, and there's a good chance you will, too."

Something I said, or maybe it was just my persistence, finally got through to the girl. Sam reached up, took my hand, and I helped her to her feet, but then she winced and limped a little. I realized quickly enough that she must have twisted her ankle. That's a death warrant in this place. But looking at her, she was small and light enough, so she probably wouldn't slow me down much. I turned around and offered my back. "Here, climb up. I'll carry you." She didn't hesitate this time. She climbed onto my back, and I walked over to the boiler.

My brother was already by the heart, and I could tell by his bloodied fingertips he'd done his part. So I turned to Sam and explained. "You just have to touch it, then we can leave. Like this." I did as I said and touched the evil, slimy heart of this hell house. Then I leaned over so Sam could do the same. That done, we turned and followed the path back to the stairs, this time without incident.

At the top of the stairs, I cracked the basement door and peered through. The pigman was back chopping away at the meat pile on the table. I was just thinking that if I kicked the door open, we might surprise him and run past when a disembodied head on the table turned and looked at me. It was the damned Deadpool kid silently mouthing two words I couldn't help but make out. "Help me!" The pigman noticed where the head's attention was focused and turned to inspect the door to the basement as Sam started audibly hyperventilating on my back.

Out of options, I kicked the door into the pigman's face as planned. He screeched in such a way that told me the head was not a mask, holding the end of his nose where the door had bashed him. I kicked the door into his face again, this time shoving the pigman back in the process. Then, as I stepped out the door, I kicked him directly in the head, knocking him out cold or maybe killing him, I didn't really care either way.

Looking at the poor kid's head lying on the table, severed from his body, I got an idea. Turning to my brother, I nodded toward the head. "Grab that...grab him. Let's take him outside with us."

My brother looked from the head and then back to me. "But won't that kill him?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it will."

Sam choked back a sob, and it didn't take long for my brother to realize what I had. At this point, death was a mercy. With a grim expression, he grabbed the kid's head, and we started making our way to the exit.

As we approached the door, the Ringleader was there. Usually, he was glowering at us, but this time, he had an obnoxious grin fixated on his face. "Looks like you boys had a lovely time in there tonight."

My brother, a better man than I, simply shook his head and walked out the door. For a second, I wondered what had happened to the original Wolfman. Why had he not been in the basement? Then I shook my head. It didn't matter. Instead, I was about to flip the Ringleader off, only to realize I was suddenly falling backward.

It took me a moment to understand what was happening, but Sam had grabbed me by the neck and was pulling me toward the ground. I hit the ground hard and even bit my lip. I started to sit up, but Sam placed her hand on my chest and forced me back down to the ground. It shouldn't have been possible for such a small teen to overpower me, but she was suddenly incredibly strong. I noticed she had fangs in her mouth as she leaned down to bite my neck.

Thinking fast, I reached out and grabbed the ankle she'd twisted, then pulled. With a cry of pain, Sam fell to the ground. I got up, but as old as I was getting, I wasn't very fast, and Sam beat me to her feet. She stood between me and the door, crouched and ready to pounce. My brother was on the other side of the threshold, pounding his fists against an invisible barrier, trying to get back in, but apparently, you only got to enter this place once every year.

Standing there, I was tired, sore, and sick of this nightmare house. I turned to the Ringleader, who was grinning and laughing like a maniac at the idea of finally getting rid of me, and I spit out a glob of blood that had been pooling from my lip as I looked him in the eyes and gave him a piece of my mind. "Fuck you, and fuck this house!" I then charged forward.

The girl lept onto me, and I could feel her fingernails gouging bloody trails onto my back and arms while she sunk her teeth into my neck. However, I'm not a small man, and sheer momentum carried me across the threshold.

As I explained before. The monsters of the house cannot leave the house, and Sam was no exception. She fell to the ground and cried out as she burst into flames. Thankfully, it didn't take long before her shouts were silenced. Looking over at my brother, I could see a head in his hands, now dead, thank god. My attention must have reminded him of what he was holding because my brother suddenly dropped the thing with a half-disgusted, half-horrified expression. I looked to the street, but the parents and kids walking past didn't seem to notice. It was like we were invisible to them.

Putting a hand to my neck, it came away bloody, but not so bloody that I was worried I would bleed to death very quickly. I sighed and turned to leave, only to be surprised one last time.

You never see Mister Hyde on the way in; that's normal. But beside him was something else we hadn't seen before. It was a large cross, on which was the Wolfman. Half his face had rotted away, leaving the bone exposed. The other half was a bruised and bloody mess, with strips of flesh torn and hanging from the muscle beneath as maggots filled every available crevis. I actually felt a little bad for the nightmarish Wolfman as he whimpered up on that cross.

Leaning against the cross, acting like a proud artist showing off his work, was Mister Hyde. I looked back and forth between the two, unable to turn away. However, rather than fly into an inescapable rage, Mister Hyde merely chuckled. "Happy Halloween, boys. See you again next year. I'll surely have something extra...special cooked up for ya!"

Not wanting to incur his wrath, I just nodded, turned, and walked away. Mister Hyde's laughter and the Wolfman's whimpers followed my brother and me to the edge of the property when it suddenly stopped. Turning back, the house was gone, and we'd earned our freedom for another year. I had a passing thought then. Were those teens ever real, or were they just a new type of monster the house created to torment me? I might never know. Then again, maybe I don't want to know since we were directly responsible for the deaths of two or three of them. Or perhaps they were already dead... I suppose it's best to let it go, especially now that my time has grown short and I'm facing yet another haunted house run in my near future.

In a few short days, I'll have to return to that house and survive another of its twisted, cruel survival games. Wish me luck, and maybe a year from now, when the trauma has settled a bit, I'll get back to you with another story of how we survived. Or maybe not. After all, my luck can only hold out so long, right?