For the most recent NYCMidnight Flash Fiction Challenge, I had to write a horror story taking place at a tennis court with a statue. My story placed well, but it wasn’t enough to get me to the next round, unfortunately. So, without further ado, here is the story:

The Scorned Lady

 A group of teens uncover the truth about an old legend at their favorite
eerie Friday-night hangout.

TW: Gore and death

Wind whipped around us as we sat in the dark at the abandoned tennis court. We faced the Statue of the Scorned Lady, which stood just beyond the court. In the moon’s hazy light, it cast an eerie shadow over us. Vines grew between the cracks in the court and wound their way up the benches like slender snakes.

“How can you even believe that crap? It’s just a statue,” Gage scoffed at Tressa. Some of his beer sloshed out as he waved the can toward the statue.

“It’s too much of a coincidence,” she answered. “A guy goes missing and is discovered a few days later with his throat slit. Not a suspect to be found. Just the sordid details of his love affair.” Tressa was an animated storyteller, even in this creepy place. 

Gage and Tressa, the six-foot power couple, had been dating since their freshman year, longer than any of us. Then there was Amy and Noah, the red-headed duo, who were on-again-off-again so much I was surprised they didn’t have whiplash. And finally, me and Jace. New, but so intense.

“Explain it again, Tress. I don’t get it.” Amy, on her third beer, slurred her words.

“Elise Woolfred, AKA the Scorned Lady, was an athlete back in the ‘60s.”

I shifted into the crook of Jace’s arm. The heat coming off of him both calmed and excited me. I could stay like this forever, I thought. Then, a movement near the statue startled me and I straightened up.

Everyone turned to follow my eyes. “What?”

We watched for a moment, then exhaled.

“Nothing. It was nothing, I guess.” I settled back on the rusting bench.

“Okay,” Tressa continued. “So Elise Woolfred happened to be married to an ass hat. He cheated on her all the time and humiliated her, and it’s said that she eventually died of a broken heart.”

Amy chugged the last of her beer and shoulder-bumped Noah. “We’re so lucky to have you guys. You would never do that to us.”

Noah pressed his lips against hers, then quickly drew back, glancing at each of us in turn. “But we’re talking about a statue,” he said.

Gage jumped in. “Exactly. An object made of … whatever that thing is made of.”

The rest of us laughed, but Tressa sat up taller, jumping back into her story.

“Some people say they can hear sobbing coming from the Statue of the Scorned Lady,” she said, more emphatic now, “but other people believe the angry spirit of Elise Woolfred occupies the statue and takes revenge on unfaithful men. There’s more to the legend, but I don’t remember—”

“So a statue kills guys for being cheaters?” Jace interrupted. “A statue.”

“You’re awfully quiet over there, Lexi,” Amy said. “What do you think?”

I gazed at the Scorned Lady, who loomed about eight feet tall and held a tennis racket across her chest. Some of the stone on her darkened face had chipped away over the years, but I could still detect something in her expression. Something like vengeance. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she totally creeped me out. And I could have sworn I saw her shaking in anger.

“The story sounds ridiculous,” I said, to which all the boys nodded as if I had settled the matter. “But whatever the truth is, none of us have anything to worry about, right? ‘Cause she only goes after cheaters.”

A nervous and uncomfortable silence hung over the group.

“Let’s test it!” blurted Amy.

We looked at her incredulously. “What?” “No!” “What do you mean?” “Are you crazy?” Our voices ran over one another in a cacophony of objections, Tressa’s the loudest.

Amy pointed at Jace. “You. Come kiss me in front of the statue.”

Noah and I simultaneously jumped up. “No!”

“You’re drunk,” chuckled Jace.

“It won’t mean anything, I swear,” she promised.

“Lemme get this straight,” Jace said to Amy. “The legend says this statue kills cheating men. And you want me to cheat right in front of it. Soooo…. What if it’s true?”

Tressa spread her long arms out between Amy and Jace. “I am not gonna watch anyone get killed tonight!”

Amy pointed at Jace, Gage, Noah, and me. “Y’all said the legend is crap, so what are you so afraid of?”

We fell silent again as we studied the Scorned Lady.

Then some bravery — or maybe it was a twisted curiosity — overtook me, and I nudged Jace. “Do it.”

“Are you serious? What if I die?”

“There’s no way you’re going to be killed by a statue, number one, and number two, you won’t really be cheating, right?”

Amy grabbed Jace’s hand and pulled him over to the Scorned Lady while the rest of us stood transfixed, like watching a train wreck. My insides did a loop and heat spread to my face at the thought of Jace kissing Amy. But I couldn’t look away.

Amy reached for Jace’s cheeks and brought his face down to hers, and in slow motion, their lips met. I expected them to pull away quickly and gloat their I-told-you-so’s, but instead they sank deeper into the kiss. Jace’s hands disappeared into Amy’s long red hair, and her arms closed around his waist.

Noah and I looked at each other, ready to protest, but a sudden gust of wind and a guttural howl came from the Scorned Lady. I tried to move but I couldn’t, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel. I was rooted to the spot.

Screaming came from all around. Jace fell to the ground, clutching his throat. Blood poured onto the tennis court.

Amy dropped to Jace’s side, and everyone was screaming and crying Jace’s name, until suddenly they were pointing and screaming my name. The Scorned Lady’s sobs filled my ears and my head. Then, as Jace lay sliced open on the court and I stood scorned, my stone hand outstretched, I realized the sobbing was coming from me.