This is slightly different to what I've usually written, but it still revolves around mild horror and unexpectancy. Enjoy!
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"Iris, we HAVE to go to The Concert!" my best friend - Jessica - whined, as she applied even more lipgloss. I rolled my eyes and concentrated on the music that blared in my ears: 'Immortals' by Fall Out Boy. Jessica continued to plead until it got the point where she was irritating. 

"Why do you want to go so badly?!" I snapped fiercely, pulling my earplugs out reluctantly, the sound growing muffled. Jessica was far too preppy and bubbly sometimes. I prefered to stalk around in the shadows, music forever my soul mate. She, on the other hand, loved to be thrust out in the lime light, always begging me to go to parties with her. She was too afraid to go on her own and I usually relented and went with her. But The Concert was way past my limit - since 2 years ago, I vowed to never go there. Terrible and strange things had occurred at there, things that had caused some people to never return and others to barely escape. It was the most popular nightclub in our tiny town and EVERYONE went there. People from other towns would even come visit it, and 5 years ago the mayor even announced it a landmark. It was ridiculous, but it was the main thing that helped everyone here survive and stay wealthy.

It also was the reason our town had the most deaths in the country.

"Please, Iris! Everyone in our year has been there, so why can't we? People will think we're losers with no lives!" But we were losers with no lifes. I was tempted to say that, but Jessica was being annoying enough. However, as she carried on, I felt my walls breaking and my will power crumbling. 

"Fine." As soon as I said that single word, I regretted it immediately. I silently cursed myself for being so weak, but Jessica already had a huge smile on her face as she began pulling on her leather jacket. Flipping her dark red hair over her shoulder, she began to attempt a smokey eye. Was this place all the hassle? Hesitantly, I myself began to make myself look more presentable. I don't think they allowed people with grey track bottoms and a stained tank top on in. As I searched through Jessica's clothes (I had nothing good enough for school, let along the most prestigious nightclub in the town), I pulled out black jeans and a navy blue sparkly top. It privately made me throw up in my mouth, but before I could throw it back in the haphazard pile of clothes, Jessica glanced over.

"Iris, wear that! It'll look SOO great on you!" she gushed, her makeup already done. I groaned silently but pulled the clothes on and then had a go at my makeup. I wasn't one for makeup, so I simply went for lipgloss, mascara and a bit of eyeliner. Jessica had gone way over the top, on the other hand. She'd plastered on so many beauty products I could compare her to a barbie doll. Shoving on my Dr. Marten's boots, I ventured outside with Jessica and we made our way to The Concert. My heart hammered violently against my ribcage as the beats from the nightclub grew nearer. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. 
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At least a mile long queue stretched out from The Concert's entrance. Several bounces stood firm around the doors, dressed in black suits and all wore blank expressions. Every now and then, people would be allowed inside or turned away. They were forced to sign something that said if anything happened to them, it'd be their own fault and not The Concert's. That didn't sound right at all. 

Eventually, we made it to the front and Jessica's pass allowed us inside. Immediately, I was awestruck. The room we'd entered must've been the main room, with chairs and tables dotted all over the perimeter of the room, with a disco floor in the centre. Lights flashed diagonally all around the room and a DJ bobbed his head to the beat as he belted out the most popular music around. People were everywhere, dancing on the disco floor, sipping alcohol at tables, standing around talking. Jessica latched onto my arm and dragged me to the bar, which was on the right side of the room. We sat down on the barstools and I ordered us two glasses of wine. Minutes later, our drinks arrived and I began to survey the room.

This was all an act, I told myself. This was the place that took your sister.


I knew we shouldn't have come, and I wondered if we were even going to be allowed to leave. No one left, only entering. Occasionally, men would come in and lead out the most beautiful women. Did they do that to my sister, and the other girls that went missing? I had to find out if she was still here, confined in a cell or a room. I shook Jessica, who had dozed off with her wine empty in her hand. She could never handle her alcohol. Holding in a smirk at this, I grabbed hold of her and yanked her off the barstool.

"W-what?" she murmured sleepily, her eyelids drooping with sleep. I frowned slightly. She hadn't drunk that much, so why was she acting like she was going to pass out any minute? I narrowed my eyes at the bartender, and suddenly he tensed, as if feeling my eyes lasering into his skin. Turning, he met my gaze, before he peered at Jessica. A sneer played at his lips, and my suspicion was confirmed.

Jessica's drink had been spiked.

We had to leave. I'd have to look for my sister another time. Another time. I never wanted to return, but to get answers I had to. Pulling Jessica towards the door, she started to twirl some of my dark curls in her finger, giggling softly like a little child. As I reached for the door knob, suddenly an ice cold wrist grabbed my arm. 

"Where do you think you're going, Iris?" an unfamiliar man in a white tuxedo said, stroking his stubbled chin. A thin bleach blonde woman in a sequinned red dress stood beside him, playing with his black hair. Pursing her red lipsticked mouth at me, she repeated, "Yes, where do you think you're going?"

"We're going home and I don't know you. So leave me alone." My voice sounded distant, and I felt my brain pounding as well as my heart. Abruptly, I had a headache. Everything seemed so faraway and my own eyes were barely open. Great, that bartender must've spiked my drink as well. The man in front of me smiled, but it wasn't real. It was cold and tight-lipped, his ice blue eyes hard. I barely felt Jessica as she clutched my arm, her head on my shoulder. Her whole body was limp, and she'd fallen asleep. 

"You belong to us Iris," he said loudly, and then he lurked forwards. I cringed, stepping away, but I was too slow. My sleepiness was at a disadvantage. He grabbed hold of me and I immediately felt a scream gurgle up in my throat, but the man slapped his hand across my mouth and the noise went silent. "Don't bother making a sound," he whispered in my ear, his breath almost like a caress. "You won't be able to in a few minutes anyway." I was then pushed forwards and led across the room, no one even sparing a look at me. The man opened a door and I was shoved inside a small room, the rhythm from the main room thumping against the walls. There was only a wooden chair in the middle of the room, and a rope beside it. He shoved me down on the chair and the bleach blonde woman restrained me as he tied the rope around my body. He then pulled out a gun and checked the ammo.

"W-what did I even do?" I mumbled, as the man continued to admire his gun like a trophy. My whole body was half-asleep, and it wouldn't be long until I'd doze off completely. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't fight back. 

"Your sister wished us to do this," the woman simpered, as she leaned against the door, brushing on some powder. My sister? My sister was dead. They'd taken her.

She shook her head as if knowing my thoughts. "Oh no, she's quite the opposite of dead. And she'll be here any minute to see you die." I was going to see my sister? The rest of the woman's words didn't quite sink in, until the knock at the door jerked me out of my thoughts. A beautiful woman with similar dark hair to mine sauntered in, a perky grin on her lips. As she saw me, her eyes darkened but the smile remained intact.

"Finally, Jessica got you here! It's taken 2 years. I've been waiting for this moment my whole life, dear sister." She let out a cackle, before snatching the gun from the man's hands. "I love killing people," she murmured in my face. I stared at her strangely. She wasn't my sister; she was a monster. Her face was contorted with a twisted glee as she adjusted the gun to my head.

"I'll tell mother and father you said goodbye," she laughed.

And then she pulled the trigger.