Friday the 13th

The storm had been brewing all day, an ominous black sky that only got darker as the hours passed. Perfect for a Friday the 13th, especially one in October. Flynn and I had been working all day at Rewind Rentals, the shop busy with locals picking up horror films to fuel their spooky movie marathons. Upstairs, at the Rewind Theater, we'd been showing a lineup of old-school classics—Freddy Krueger, Halloween, even The Company of Wolves for the hardcore fans.

I was setting up the projector in the small, cozy theater room, a bowl of popcorn resting against my hip. The audience—mostly townies who liked the idea of watching horror movies in the vintage ambiance of the theater—settled into their worn velvet chairs with drinks, candy, and buttery popcorn. Flynn had put together a killer playlist for the pre-show, layering eerie sounds between trailers for other horror films. The first jump scare in Halloween was coming up, just as the weather outside began to turn nasty.

A sudden, deafening crack of thunder echoed through the building. Lightning illuminated the theater windows, and everyone jumped in their seats, right on cue with the movie. I couldn’t help but laugh, the timing too perfect to be planned.

The storm had really picked up, pouring rain rattling against the windows. It made the dim lights in the shop downstairs flicker, which I only noticed as I left the theater and headed back down. Flynn had snuck off a little earlier, saying something about grabbing the next movie for the queue.

I descended the creaky stairs, the hum of the old films playing through the walls. Just as I reached the last step, lightning flashed again, and the room went momentarily white, followed by a boom of thunder that seemed to shake the very floor beneath me.

I shook my head, grinning to myself. Flynn loved Friday the 13th, especially one as dramatic as this. “Flynn?” I called out, stepping behind the counter to check the register, fully expecting him to pop out from some shadowy corner.

And, of course, he did. He timed it just as another bolt of lightning struck, diving out from behind a row of horror movies with a loud “Boo!”

I screamed, slapping his arm instinctively, and he burst into laughter, pulling me close before I could get away. His lips found mine in a soft, warm kiss, the contrast to the storm outside making it feel all the more comforting.

“You're too easy,” Flynn teased, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “Always so jumpy.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. “Yeah, well, I have a reason to be, especially on nights like this. Something weird always happens on Friday the 13th. I’m starting to think I’m cursed.”

Flynn raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

I sighed, stepping back and leaning against the counter as I crossed my arms, the rain tapping against the windows behind me. “Okay, so, remember last year when I was doing the end-of-day paperwork behind the desk?”

He nodded, waiting for me to continue.

“I looked up, and there was this guy standing by the horror section,” I said, feeling a little chill run down my spine at the memory. “He was wearing this creepy mask—like one of those old porcelain doll faces—and just... staring at me.”

Flynn’s grin faded, his expression shifting from amused to something more serious. “Wait, what? Who was he?”

“That’s the thing—I don’t know. I didn’t hear the bell ring when he came in, and when I greeted him, he didn’t say anything. He just kept... watching me while he ‘browsed’ the shelves.”

“Okay, that’s seriously messed up,” Flynn said, taking a step closer. “What happened after?”

“Well, I kept trying to act normal, you know, like maybe he was just one of those weird horror buffs who gets really into it.” I shrugged, feeling the goosebumps rise on my arms. “But then, he was just... gone. No bell, no nothing. One second he was there, the next he wasn’t.”

“Jesus, Amelia, that’s creepy as hell,” Flynn muttered, looking around as if expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows. “What the hell is wrong with people? Coral Cove is supposed to be safe.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I thought too. But every Friday the 13th, something strange happens.” I glanced over at the old TV sets lining the back wall, one of them flickering ominously as if the storm outside had seeped into the electronics.

Flynn shook his head. “That’s insane. Did you ever find out who it was?”

“Nope. Never saw him again,” I replied, my voice softer now. “I even checked the cameras, but... nothing.”

Flynn stared at me for a moment, clearly freaked out by the story. Before he could say anything else, another loud clap of thunder boomed through the shop, making the old bells on the door chime just as the lightning flashed again.

I froze for a split second watching the window, and Flynn turned to look at the door. When he glanced back at me, his eyes widened, and he took a step back. Flynn let out a yell, nearly tripping over the counter stool in his panic.

I couldn’t help it—I burst into laughter. I had slipped on the same creepy mask from the back room, the one we kept for Halloween decorations.

“You should’ve seen your face!” I howled, tears of laughter streaming down my cheeks as I pulled the mask off. “Priceless!”

Flynn clutched his chest, breathing heavily before shaking his head at me. “You’re a menace,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me. “And I don’t know why I put up with you.”

I grinned, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “Because you love me,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes but leaned down to kiss me again, the storm outside a distant rumble compared to the warmth between us. “Yeah, I do,” he murmured, pulling me closer.

The rain kept falling, the thunder rolled, and in that small, cozy corner of Coral Cove, surrounded by dusty VHS tapes and flickering lights, we felt untouchable—no matter how cursed the night might be.