The morning sun spilled like molten gold across the quiet suburban street, cutting through last night's haze with relentless brightness. A battered white van idled in front of Jamie's house, stereo blasting pop-punk from a decade ago. Inside, seven teens were already packed in, loud and reckless, their energy vibrating through the worn-out leather seats.
"Jamie! Come on!" yelled Brooke from the passenger side, her phone already recording a selfie video. "We're late for the splash of our lives!"
Jamie stumbled out of the front door with a half-eaten granola bar in one hand and sunscreen in the other. Her oversized towel trailed behind her like a cape.
"Jesus, give me a second," she muttered, tossing her bag into the back and squeezing between Leah and Chris. "Who planned this for eight in the morning anyway?"
"That would be me," said Mark from the driver's seat, adjusting his sunglasses. "You know lines at AquaMaelstrom start by nine. We want front-of-the-line for The Vortex or what?"
"The Vortex is cursed," muttered Devin, who was nursing a cold brew and glaring at his cracked phone screen. "It had two delays last month. Something about electrical faults."
"Cool story, Wikipedia," said Tanya, rolling her eyes. She was already in her bikini, a denim jacket hanging off one shoulder. "It's the fastest slide in the country. A little jolt never killed anyone."
Everyone laughed—except Mark.
He gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter, jaw clenching for a split second. No one noticed.
Leah, the shyest among them, sat quietly near the window, sketching something in her notebook. She looked up as Jamie leaned over.
"What're you drawing?"
Leah flipped the sketchbook shut quickly. "Just something from a dream."
Brooke leaned over from the front seat. "Was it about me? Be honest. I dream in filters too."
Leah offered a tight smile but said nothing. Her eyes flicked toward Mark, just for a second, as if she felt something off about him.
"Alright," Mark said suddenly, turning the key. "Let's ride."
The van roared to life, and with a screech of rubber and laughter echoing into the day, they pulled away from the neighborhood.
—
By the time they reached the water park, it was a beast of sound and color. AquaMaelstrom rose like a temple of chaos—massive slides coiling through the sky like glass serpents, wave pools thundering with motion, and music booming from every speaker.
Jamie stuck her head out the window, wind tossing her hair. "We made it, baby!"
They parked, grabbed their bags, and pushed through the entrance with teenage swagger. The sun bore down, and the smell of chlorine, sunscreen, and fried food wrapped around them like a hot towel.
Mark stood still for a moment as the others ran ahead. He watched the largest slide in the park—The Vortex—twist and vanish into a central black tunnel. A huge sign read:
"Dare the Spiral. Feel the Fall."
Something cold licked the back of his neck. A whisper not quite spoken.
He shook it off.
—
Inside the locker area, they split up to change. Chris and Devin argued over who would win in a high-dive contest. Tanya and Brooke fought over the best angles for a group picture. Leah, again, remained quiet, sitting beside her towel, flipping through her notebook.
Mark stared at himself in the cracked mirror. His reflection flickered. For a heartbeat, he swore he saw blood swirling in the sink behind him. A shadow moved across the tiles.
He blinked.
Gone.
Just the sound of water running somewhere. Screaming kids. Laughter. A lifeguard's whistle.
He exhaled and splashed cold water on his face.
"Mark, let's go!" Jamie's voice echoed in.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Coming."
They met outside by the main wave pool, now crammed with people. Thousands, maybe more. Colorful floats bobbed. Water cannons sprayed into the air. Giant screens displayed park schedules and ride safety tips.
"First stop?" Chris grinned.
"The Vortex," Mark answered, voice quiet.
Everyone cheered. Eight friends headed toward the waiting line, unaware of the invisible thread tightening around them.
The sky above was blue. The air was full of laughter.
But Death had already marked its place in the park.
And it had a formula.