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Back when we were kids, the Embassy was a functioning movie theater, playing anything from classics to new blockbusters. But when Valemont’s crime rate started going up and new tech made it hard for the Embassy to compete, they were shut down.

My forehead wrinkled as I looked up at the marquee… lit up.

“What the…”

Before I could get the words out, Nash was turning off the engine of the Revuelto and hopping out of the car. She opened my door and grabbed my hand, gesturing up to the sign:

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2:

THE INTERACTIVE EXPERIENCE!

ONE NIGHT ONLY!

“Nash, how…?” My jaw was on the floor.

Shrugging, Nash grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers as we both looked up at the warm yellow glow of the marquee. “It’s the 40th anniversary of the movie. So they rereleased it and paid for the Embassy to reopen.”

“No fucking way!” I couldn’t stop myself from jumping up and squealing.

With a nod, Nash laughed. “Yeah, and that’s not even it. The local theater troupe is here, they’re doing an interactive show. So real jump scares, real laughs.”

“Like Rocky Horror?” I gawked.

“That’s right, Sweet Lamb.” Checking the time, Nash walked me to the ticket booth. “But we gotta get our snacks before it starts.”

With real, paper tickets, Nash guided us inside the gilded, glass doors.

Inside, a waft of old carpet and warm popcorn filled my nose. My chest tightened at the memory. It was exactly the way I remembered it.

Gold scones lit the foyer and gave a warm glow to the red, blue, and black art deco flooring. Looking up, I tried to take it all in.

“Do you remember it like this?” I asked without looking away from the geometric wall accents that stretched up to the ceiling.

Standing in the concession line, Nash nodded. “Yep, exactly like this. It’s like they preserved every detail.”

As we grabbed our large popcorn, two sodas and some M&Ms to add in to the popcorn, Nash walked us to our seats. On the aisle, we had a perfect view of the screen and stage at the front of the theater.

With just one screen, the place had struggled to keep up with the insane amount of releases that the modern film era had provided.

But tonight, we’d all be gathered in one room, together.

Nash squeezed my knee in the narrow seats, her gray eyes watching me. “Are you excited?”

Nodding, I felt my eyes grow heavy. “Of course.”

I was grateful when the house lights flickered and the stage spotlight flashed on, giving me cover to look away from Nash’s kind, open gaze.

The truth was no one had ever done something this nice for me. Not before I walked into Feverpoint. Since then, I'd been pampered, adored, protected… when I wasn’t being hunted for sport. And the longer I stayed with my Freaks, the more I questioned if I could ever live without them.

An older gentleman stepped onto the stage in a gray cardigan. He held a small microphone to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. It’s been many years since the Embassy has seen a real audience, and we’re thrilled to welcome you back!”

A light applause carried through the crowd. The man continued, “Tonight is all about fun. This is an interactive show so no need to be quiet, or shy. If something’s funny, laugh. If something scares you, scream. Remember, there may be some actors that come near you or your seats but you are in no danger. They are all here to bring the excitement of the film to you!”

Another clap broke out from the audience as the man said thank you and goodbye.

The lights dimmed all around us and Nash’s grip on my thigh tightened.

On the screen, a scrawl of white text began to read out.