House of the Depraved

**Author's Note: A couple things, just so I don't mislead people. This story is different from most on this site. Before reading this story, understand, it's not intended as a story with quick pay-offs. There's a whole bunch of erotica but it's mixed with horror. Also, despite the seemingly innocuous title and subject matter, this story gets darker and more intense as it advances through the chapters. It's definitely not a happy romp through sexual escapades and there are disturbing elements. Beyond that, hope you enjoy!**

*********************Jayce*************************

The seven of had made a pact and come hell or highwater they were going to through with it. They'd talked about it over dinner at Famous' Steakhouse. They'd dressed to the nine's for the occasion, the guys in suits and blazers, ties and vests, the girls in evening formalwear, tight dresses and elegant blouses, bared backs and swept-up, teased hair. They were all close; some were closer still. Jaime and Camden had a kind of on again, off again thing while Lane and Jayce were just starting to become aware of the electricity between them. Just the occasional exchanged glance, her blue eyes would meet his grey and it was like time stopped for him. By the curl to her lips he knew she felt it too.

Like most things, Camden had arranged the dinner. Or as he called it: The proposition. He arranged most everything: the broomball and volleyball teams, the dorm parties with the pony kegs, rock climbing in the Canyonlands, base-jumping at Alta. Whatever he imagined he made real, and brought his friends along. The kid was a whirlwind, a self promoter, a cocky asshole, an impossible liar and Jayce's best friend and roommate. He'd known Camden two years; or it should be said, he known Camden in as far as anyone can know that kid. Knowing Camden is like knowing a rock star. You know him as much as he shows you, nothing more. Recently Jayce had been seeing him less and less. He was always seemingly wrapped up in one drama production or another, (and some would say one girl or another) sleeping at the theatre most nights. Still Camden had found time to slip the immaculate invites under our doors inviting us to dinner; on the house, it said, and there was no way we were going to miss it.

They'd arrived to find Camden seated at a round table in the direct center of the dining area. He was talking animatedly on his cell phone, his tie pulled loose around his neck, the top couple buttons of his white button down left open in purely casual fashion. He was drawing looks from the snooty waitstaff, but in classic Camden fashion, didn't even notice or care. Jaime whispered something to Lane and she snickered, which drew Camden's attention; A look of surprise at his friends sudden arrival, quickly swallowed whole by that smooth player smile he wore as he rose with an effortless ease.

"How y'doin', Darlin," he murmured to Jaime, embracing her and kissing her cheek before greeting the group in turn. He welcomed Jayce last. "Jayce," he said with a wicked smile and rigorous handshake "glad you could make it. Haven't seen you in weeks, man." He turned to Jaime. "My boy's lost without me."

"Y'know somehow I manage," Jayce said smiling back.

He winked and ushered them to their seats. To Jayce's surprise, each of their wineglasses was already full. Camden and Jayce were 20, the rest were 19, all underage. It didn't bear asking how he'd been able to order them. "Camden's charm," Whitney had called it "He hypnotizes you with that good ole boy Louisiana drawl and before you know it, you're lending him your pickup truck, six days of food and a leaky tent, and worst of all you're going too." Everyone seemed to acquiesce to Camden to some degree. Only Camden would've been able to draw out six people to a steakhouse a good mile and a half from campus on the flimsy pretense of a proposition. It was a credit to his charisma.

The group of friends indulged in the wine, a cabernet sauvignon Camden informed them, and soon after plates of filet mignon and prime rib were brought out. The food was absolutely delicious, the conversation light and easy. Jayce chatted up Lane, while Camden and Jaime whispered intensely. Whitney was rolling her eyes at some sexist joke that Logan had told but Alex had buried his head in his arm, laughing uncontrollably. It didn't matter that Alex was Korean and city-born and raised or that Logan was born in the backseat of a '78 Chevy pickup and raised on a mustang farm down south; they just clicked as friends and were rarely apart. The dinner was such easygoing contentment, friends just enjoying each others company, being indulged in the kind of finer things that college students rarely get to partake in; that Jayce had almost forgotten the reason they were there. The mood was light, and the wine was flowing freely.

Jayce had a lot on his mind; namely Lane. He was lost in her. That night she was something out of an Audrey Hepburn movie. A slender brunette, she was always pretty, but that night she was absolutely jaw-dropping. She'd worn her hair up exposing the smooth line of her neck, and her blue eyes shown so brightly from her fair skin and delicate features, they seemed electric. Her lips were pursed knowingly. No doubt she'd caught my eyes tracing her slender arms, and the soft curves of her perfectly rounded breasts, somewhat petite, but nicely accentuated by her blouse. Everything about her screamed sensual; He had this overwhelming compulsion to touch and hold this beautiful, exotic creature. When he leaned in to whisper, he smelled lilacs and the floral scent of her hair. "Seeing you in red makes me want to throw you on the table right here, and have my way with you. The hell with consequences," Jayce snarled, loosening his tie playfully.

"Oh?" She teased, feigning innocence, touching the tip of my nose "I wonder if they'll clear the dishes for us if you ask nicely." This was how they teased each other. For him it was an outlet of my sexual frustration; for her, it seemed to be pure amusement: testing to see how far he'd go.

"I think every male in the room will empathize with me all the same," Jayce said, intertwining his fingers with hers, tracing kisses along her knuckles, up her wrist and along her arm. Angelically soft. She giggled sweetly.

"My, Jayce," she whispered breathlessly "it's like you never seen a girl in a dress before."

"Never a girl like this," He'd pulled her closer. Their chairs were touching and spurred on by the airy feel the wine had left him he was grazing his kisses up her arm along her shoulder. He could tell she was flushed from the wine and the heat but even moreso his attention. He always seemed smoother flirting with her than any other girl. A clink of a fork against a glass, turned her attention. Reluctantly his as well.

"Hate to interrupt you two," Camden had turned a sly smile on them. He was the one who'd called the toast and was standing. Lane and Jayce turned their gaze over their friends, Lane sheepishly, Jayce a touched amused. Jaime was smiling, Logan was snickering and Whitney had pressed her hand over her mouth, embarrassed for them; like they'd been caught. Lane blushed prettily and Jayce downed his up of wine with resounding fervor, motioning for Camden to continue. He did without hesitation. "Bet y'all are wondering why you're here. First you tell me. Why....are you here?"

"The booze," Alex boomed, holding his glass up. He was Korean and slim, always well dressed with spiky black hair and a dimpled smile. The kid tried to fight every Asian stereotype he could. He'd adopted Logan's drawl either subconsciously or on purpose and he even bought a pickup; an old rusted and rambling Toyota that didn't always start or stop. Still he couldn't help the fact he was fairly brilliant and musically talented.

"The company," Logan said, wrapping an arm around Alex's shoulder, swaying a little from the wine, and no doubt a touch of whiskey he probably had before arriving. He was notorious for carrying a flask around, sipping surreptitiously at sporting events, movies even in class. Not like he was a raging drunk, it was just the way he was brought up. He was the classic cowboy archetype. Always in blue jeans and flannel, well built, handsome and muscular with a thick bull neck and dirty blond hair. He'd been teased endlessly about having to dress up for the dinner, but he wore his rented tuxedo well, even combed his hair. Clearly he was drunk though. "Good wine, good food, but most of all good company."

"Yee-haw!" Alex hollered, and the rest of the table hooted in agreement drawing nasty looks from the more sophisticated patrons. They couldn't help themselves, playing up the country-boy persona when Logan was around, and apparently being in a fine restaurant changed nothing.

Camden turned his unfaded smile on Whitney. "What about you?"

"I'm the one who keeps you guys out of jail," Whitney chided, but her brown eyes twinkled with mirth. She was a small girl, cute in her petite way, mousy comes to mind, pale with a smattering of freckles across her nose with glasses and shoulder length brown hair. She seemed born to be a librarian; except when she got drunk. Then she became a hellcat, swearing like a sailor and making out with hockey players and musicians and whoever else happened to be present. There were a couple nights Jayce and her went out to the bars together and somehow, someway before the night was through she'd ended up on top of him, her lips pressed firmly to his. He couldn't for the life of him tell how it happened. The next day though, like clockwork, she'd act as casual as can be, like nothing happened. Everytime. They all suspected she purposely made herself look innocent as possible just for the shock value later on. Jayce, for the life of him, never knew what to make of her. "Besides, I'm sick of hearing Camden's insane ideas secondhand. I want to be at the groundbreaking. For once."

Camden chuckled and nudged Jaime. "What about you, darlin'?"

Jaime exchanged a look with Lane, a shared smile. "We made a bet."

"Oh?" Camden looked to Jayce to see if he knew anything about it. He met Camden's puzzled look with a twist to his lips and a shrug.

"Yeah. See I think you have good ideas, Camden. I do," Jaime said sweetly, bouncing a bit in her seat. The girl was always in a good mood. Blonde, pretty and tan, Jaime grew up in California and seemed to the live part. She was the most athletic of the girls, coltish and lithe with the prettiest legs Jayce had ever seen. Her expressive green eyes were always lit with a kind of inner light, her sunkissed features almost too pretty for the tomboy persona she put on. Everyone seemed to have a crush on her at one time or another to the point it became a running joke: Jaime's harem. She was kind of naïve about the whole deal though, which only added to her charm. "I never know what you'll come up with next, but most of the time it makes my day," she began to laugh. "However Lane thinks you're losing it." Camden turned a mock-hurt expression on Lane.

"Seriously, Cam," Lane stammered through her smile. "Like a few weeks back. You wanted to hold a séance around a bonfire to mourn the death of Hunter Thompson and recall his spirit."

"A controlled burn," Camden shrugged.

"While we danced around it," She was speaking slowly now, emphasizing each point. "Naked, but for body paint and ornamental beads"

"You boys can see why, right?" Camden appealed to the guys in the room. They nodding chuckling. Jayce remembered that well. Camden seemed so earnest in his suggestion. Anyone else, he would've assumed they were joking, but Camden... "So wadja bet?"

"I bet Jaime that whatever you suggested there was no way in hell I was going to take part. Jaime bet I would."

He was nonplussed. "And the terms?"

Lane blushed then and Jaime laughed. "It's about our Halloween costumes," Jaime said meeting Camden's gaze, smiling beatifically. "If I win she has to wear the costume I want her to. You guys would like it. A country girl outfit we saw a couple days back, daisy dukes and all." The guys hooted; Logan was slapping the table howling like a wolf, which drew a withering look from a couple bluehairs in a booth behind him. "If she wins," Jaime continued, fiddling with the tight black choker around her neck "I have to feed the Psych department's pigeons for a week, getting my fingers bit and my hair pulled by those little demons while she sits back with a lemonade or good book or whatever."

"And you took this bet?" Alex asked Jaime. She nodded. "Even though it's completely dependent on Lane's feelings? She controls the bet!"

"See, I don't think so," Jaime said with a knowing smile. "I got faith in Cam. Whatever he came up with, whatever all this anticipation is about, I got a feeling it's going to be good. Laney's going to want to lose the bet. I trust this."

"And here's hoping she does," Jayce said, toasting his glass against Alex's and Logan's as Lane slapped his shoulder playfully.

"Funny you should mention Halloween," Camden said softly, tapping his finger against his lips, pausing for effect. His dark eyes were inscrutable. "That's what this is about. How many of y'all have heard of The House of the Depraved?"

Bemused looks were exchanged. No one seemed to have any idea.

"Andy! More wine. Please," Camden gestured to the waiter as he was walking by. He returned a few moments later to open a fresh bottle, refilling each of our cups. Camden waited until the waiter left before continuing. He paused as if trying to find the right words before pursing his lips resolutely and drumming his fingers against the table. "What about Andal's Crossing?"

More bemused looks. Suddenly Logan slammed the table, lifting an intense gaze on Camden. "Shit-Yeah, Andal's Crossing! That little shittown just across the county line. Freak-show used to come through there back in the day. My folks even took me once when I was knee-high. Albino dwarves, Living Doll women, legless boys that walked on their hands, the 'missing link'. Scared me half to death," He shook his head, eyes unfocused. "Hadn't thought about that since the nightmares stopped."

An awkward silence filled the table. No one seemed sure what to make of that. Suddenly, Whitney broke out laughing; a kind of helpless, breathless uncontrollable gale that left her doubled over. The suddenness of it broke the tension like a window pane; soon the whole table was laughing easy, even Logan smiled a little. The group was thoroughly drunk which only fueled everyone's amusement. There was nothing funny about what Logan said, but it was so out of place with the genial vibe of the evening that they couldn't help themselves.

"You ok, Whit?" Jaime touched her shoulder.

Whitney had been laughing so hard, she was wiping tears from her eyes as she struggled to regain her composure. "Yeah," she tried, only moderately successful in her attempt to repress another wave of giggling threatening to bubble to the surface. "Just reminded me of something. Inside joke. Just ignore me."

Camden had been waiting patiently. He was smiling wanly and his voice was soft. "He's right. There used to be a freakshow there. Lived on long past the others of its breed died out. Folks in this area seem to have an unquenchable thirst for the taboo. Eventually the state shut it down but the building remained."

"It was an eyesore but for whatever reason no one had the heart to knock it down," Logan interrupted. "Eventually someone will put it to good use I imagine."

"Someone has," Camden said smoothly. "They turned into a haunted house. The House of the Depraved." He slipped a flyer out from his jacket pocket and placed it face up on the table. The picture was blurred, but a building could be seen: a tangled mass of stone and rotting wood paneling under a thatch roof that loomed large in the foreground. Beneath the picture in Antiqua font were the words: House of the Depraved: Bring a Friend.

"Looks like the place is about to collapse," Whitney murmured, eyes transfixed to the image. She wasn't laughing anymore. It almost seemed like there was something she recognized in it. Like seeing a forgotten photo of a long-dead relative.

"It's been there 80 years. I think it'll last through Halloween," Camden said dryly. "Here's the deal: It's been rated the best haunted house west of the Mississippi, but it's fantastically intense. Last year a couple girls from this school couldn't hack it and suffered a breakdown of some kind. They're fine now, but they won't talk about it. Believe me, I tried."

"Says you," Alex scoffed.

"Says everyone. Check the internet if you don't believe me. They do one thing and they do it well: Scare the living bejeezus out of anyone who goes in," Camden leaned back interlacing his fingers at the nape of his neck. He could see the flicker of interest in the eyes of those assembled. "I've heard it described as a cathartic experience. Boys and girls come out changed."

There was a palpable buzz at the table. Jaime and Jayce exchanged an excited smile and Logan slapped Alex on the back so hard it caused him to spit out the wine he was sipping. Even Whitney seemed intrigued, her lips were parted in an almost smile, and she was glancing over at each of her friends in turn, eyes widening a bit, seemingly encouraged by reactions around her. Jayce toasted her and Jaime excitedly threw her arms around Camden's shoulders, excited.

"What's the catch, Camden?" Lane crossed her slim arms over her chest. She was trying to hold Camden's gaze. It was clear she was drunk and struggling to keep eye contact, or the mock seriousness of her pressed lips.

"Who says there's a catch, dear?" Camden almost looked innocent at that moment.

"'Cause it's you, Cam," Lane chided. "There's always a catch."

There was a pause. "She's right. Here's the deal," Camden said softly. The revelry died down a bit. Even Jaime disentangled herself from Camden then to sit on the arm of her chair; green eyes pinned on him, clearly as curious as Lane. "You have to sign a waiver when you go in stating to the effect that you are entering on your own volition and that were made aware of and agree to the three stated bylaws." He went silent.

"Which are?"

"Rule 1: They're allowed to touch you." There was a shocked buzz at the table. Sarah's mouth was a perfect "o" and Alex wore a bemused half-smile trying as if he was trying to decide if Camden was playing a joke on them.

"Alrighty," Logan said in his slow drawl, seemingly speaking for the assembled. Jayce had heard of this kind of thing before at all the best haunted houses. If they can touch you, that's one more limit they can cross to frighten you.

"Rule 2: They're allowed to manipulate you."

Jaime cocked her head, bewildered. "Manipulate us? What does that mean?"

Camden shrugged casually, downing his glass of wine before dabbing at his lips with his cloth napkin. "Beats me."

"You don't know!?" Whitney was incredulous. "Could be anything!"

Camden met her gaze firmly. "Could be. Don't shoot the messenger though. The way it has been explained to me, is that they're fully convinced they can cause you to do things you wouldn't do ordinarily." His smile looked awfully white at that moment. The bizarreness of what Camden was describing was too much. Jayce hid his smile behind my wine glass. Some of this was probably true, some Camdenesque Bravado. He just hadn't decided which yet. The girls seemed to react most intensely. Sarah's mouth was still agape, her brown eyes wide and unfocused. Jaime had self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest, apprehensively moistening her lips as if running through possibility after possibility. But Lane was absolutely still. Her lips were tight, her expression enigmatic and her pretty blue eyes were locked to every movement Camden made as if weighing his soul. Jayce, entranced by her intensity, dabbed at his lips with a cloth napkin, thinking not for the first time how head over heels he was.