The Mansion of Perfect Scores

The mansion was a beast. It loomed above the hills like a predator in stone, marble steps gleaming in the late sun. Each window glared with light, sharp and judging, as though daring the world to call it anything less than perfect. Inside, perfection came at a cost. Morgan scrubbed on her knees, rag soaked, fingers raw. Sweat rolled down her back as she pushed the cloth in furious circles across the polished floor of Mae’s primary bedroom. Dust vanished beneath her hands, fingerprints erased, mirrors gleaming with a shine sharp enough to cut. Mae, Morgan’s boyfriend’s sister, drifted in with a glass of Chardonnay in one hand, her sleek dress untouched by sweat or labor. Ken, her husband, leaned in the doorway with arms crossed, watching like a king surveying his kingdom. Jace, Morgan’s boyfriend, appeared behind her, shirt clinging to his chest from helping with the heavier lifting earlier. His smile was thin, tired. “Almost done?” he asked softly. “Almost,” Morgan muttered, biting down irritation. Almost wasn’t good enough, not for Mae. When the final streak of dust was gone, Mae set her glass down and smoothed her hair. Then she picked up her phone, tapping the screen with manicured nails. “Time for the evaluation,” she sang. Morgan froze; rag still damp in her hand. “Evaluation?” Mae winked. “Every month. The house gets scored. It’s how we keep our reputation. One wrong mark and people talk.” The line clicked. A man’s voice came through, flat, nasal, and official. “This is House Integrity. I’m standing by for your report.” Mae stepped into the center of the room, chin lifted. “Yes. This is Mae Gordon, reporting in. The bedroom is ready for inspection.” “Proceed.” Mae lifted the phone, panning it slowly around the pristine room. The mirrors sparkled. The carpet had no trace of lint; no sign a human had ever stepped across it. Morgan’s arms ached from scrubbing it down, but Mae’s voice poured through the line with syrupy ease. The man cleared his throat. “Perfect. Ten out of ten. Impeccable.” Mae laughed, a light, triumphant sound. “Wonderful. Thank you, as always.” The call ended. She slipped the phone into her pocket with a smug smile. “Perfect score. Again.” Morgan clenched her rag so tight the wet cloth dripped between her fingers. The anger burned inside her chest, sharp and bitter. The house wasn’t perfect because of Mae. It was perfect because of her. She wanted to scream it, to throw the rag in Mae’s face, but instead she smiled tightly and said nothing. The silence pressed heavy. Ken nodded with approval. Jace sighed in quiet pride, glad for his sister. Morgan swallowed the storm. And then the house groaned. At first, it was subtle, a faint scrape along the window. The soft drag of something across glass. Mae frowned. “What was that?” Another scrape. A dull thump. Ken stepped toward the window, irritation twisting his face. “Probably raccoons. Or kids messing around.” But then the shadow appeared. A pale hand slapped against the windowpane, fingers crooked, nails torn and yellow. Another hand followed. Then another. The glass rattled. “Oh my God,” Mae whispered. Figures lurched into view, staggering across the perfectly trimmed lawn. At first glance, they looked ridiculous: Halloween costumes sagging and torn. A witch’s hat drooped over a face half-rotted away. A clown mask hung crooked, smeared with old blood. A devil cape fluttered behind a corpse with its ribs showing through shredded flesh. Ken staggered back. “The hell?” The first one crashed through the glass. Shards rained down as the thing stumbled into the room, jaw snapping wide. Its mask hung half-off, revealing rotting gums slick with black saliva. The stench was unbearable. Mae shrieked. “Fight it! Morgan, fight it!” The zombie lunged. Morgan swung the rag still in her hand, useless, then grabbed a jagged shard of glass from the floor. She rammed it into the thing’s throat. Hot, black blood sprayed across her arm. The corpse gurgled and collapsed. Another slammed against the broken window. Then another. Dozens crowded at the glass, their moans rising in a hideous chorus. “Run!” Jace shouted. The room erupted into chaos. Ken grabbed a lamp and swung wildly, the ceramic base exploding against a zombie’s head. Blood and brain matter painted the wall. Another corpse lunged, teeth snapping, and Ken shoved it back but a third rushed from behind, sinking teeth deep into his arm. Flesh ripped, blood sprayed. His scream tore through the house. “Ken!” Mae shrieked, but her cry ended in a sob as a zombie in a devil mask sank its teeth into his throat, ripping it open in a fountain of gore. He gargled, hands clawing, before the creature ripped his head halfway off. Blood soaked the pristine carpet, staining it a black red. Mae’s scream split the air. Jace grabbed her wrist. “Move!” They bolted down the hallway. Morgan ran after them, slipping on blood slick beneath her shoes. More creatures poured into the mansion; their rotted faces twisted into grotesque smiles. The portraits on the walls seemed to watch in silence as the humans fled beneath them. The Jeep waited outside. Their last salvation. Morgan threw herself into the back seat, heart pounding so loud it drowned out the snarls. She slammed the locks down, hands trembling. Mae scrambled through the open rear window, collapsing into the front seat, sobbing. Jace yanked at the driver’s side door but before he could climb in, three zombies caught him. One clamped its jaws around his leg, tearing it away at the knee. He screamed, eyes wide with shock as blood sprayed the gravel. Another clawed open his stomach, dragging intestines out like wet ropes. “Jace!” Morgan shrieked, pounding against the glass. His gaze locked on her for one last, desperate moment then the third creature ripped open his chest, teeth snapping around his heart. The sound of bone cracking echoed through the night. Her boyfriend was gone. Morgan screamed until her throat tore. She slammed the locks again, tears streaking her blood-soaked cheeks. The creatures feasted outside, tearing him apart in the gravel. The Jeep roared to life under her grip. She slammed the gas, tires spinning. One zombie clung to the rear bumper, its jaw snapping as it dragged behind. Mae shrieked and kicked, blood spraying her legs, until the thing finally fell away, crushed beneath the tires. The mansion shrank in the rearview mirror, swallowed by the dark. Morgan drove blind, grief like fire in her chest, hands slick with blood. The only sound in the Jeep was Mae’s ragged sobs and the low moans of the horde that still lingered, somewhere behind them. Everyone else was gone. Only Morgan and Mae remained, covered in gore, breathless, alive. For now.