HALLOWEEN
2022
“A stoner, giant crocodile alien and the president of
the United Earth walk into a bar.”
“Johnathan the Tripper, I have asked you repeatedly to
not narrate our lives as we are living them, I find it…” Drababan had to think
of the appropriate word. “Unsettling, yes unsettling will work.”
“And I’m not the president of the United States,
that’s the other Mike.”
“The other Mike? How many of you are there? And they
say I’m the one that does drugs.” Trip was talking to the hostess who was
escorting them to their table. At first glance, to look at Trip one would
believe him to be an old hippie, one who had traveled extensively with the
Grateful Dead. He wore his long gray hair in a ponytail that traveled halfway
down his back. Sitting atop his head was a worn Stetson hat. He wore a MAGA
shirt that read Make America Green Again, with a large pot leaf as the
background. His ripped and stained jeans were held up by suspenders. He looked
nothing like his multi-million-dollar bank account would indicate.
At eight feet tall and wider than a refrigerator, Dee
found that he had to constantly duck and turn sideways to not run into patrons,
tables or light fixtures. He was wearing an armored leather vest and thick
pants that traveled down past his knees. He had a blaster holstered to his back
and a knife strapped to his leg that on a human would look like a sword. He
garnered a few stares but only because he was the famous Drababan and not an
alien.
“I’m glad we missed the lunch rush,” Mike said.
“This is Roswell, the hostess said, “we don’t have a
lunch rush anymore. Ever since the aliens really came down and weren’t so nice,
the tourist industry here dried up. No need to travel to see them when all you
have to do is look up.”
Mike thought she looked tired and worried, tired of a
job that offered no advancement and worried that even this job would go away
soon, he was going to remember to ask Trip to tip her well.
“Hey!” BT stood up from the booth he was sitting at.
He came over and gave Mike a bear hug. “Good to see you man, been a while. Ah
Dee!” He held out his hand and they shook, each trying to make the other flinch
by how much pressure they exerted.
“Oooh, a pissing contest!” Trip blurted out as he
fumbled with the front of his pants.
“No!” Mike exclaimed, “it’s not that kind!” He was
reaching but not too far, Trip knew very little about boundaries and would just
as likely drop his member right into his palm.
“Who the hell is this?” BT asked, the distraction
enough that Dee and BT ceased their competition.
“I, my good friend…” Trip held his foot up. “Wait, who
am I?”
“This is Jonathan the Tripper.” Dee said.
“You can just call him Trip,” Mike replied. “He says
he’s a time jumper and that it was imperative that he was here for this
meeting.”
“Pill?” Trip asked, reaching into his pocket and
pulling out a variety of different shapes and colors.
“You believed him enough to bring him?” BT asked.
“He has a private shuttle stocked with enough beer to
supply this place. Belief never played into my decision.”
“Jesus, Mike you’re like a kid hopping into a van that
offers free candy and puppies.”
“He also had Moxie,” Dee replied.
“Gotta tell you Dee, drinking a case of that stuff
isn’t going to do you any favors,” Mike told him.
“It is medicinal, Michael, I’ve read up on it.”
“Mine too!” Trip chimed in.
“Maybe you should just tell us why we’re here,” Mike
said, “otherwise, Trip here is going to go on an hour-long explanation of the
benefits of Quaaludes.”
“Don’t even get me started,” Trip said, his eyes
shining at the thought of doing just that.
BT had fundamentally changed when he’d come back from
their time looped travel through space. It wasn’t so much the journey, as it
had been that his true-life doppelganger had died while he was gone. There had
been a pitched battle between a battalion of Stryvers and a squad of United
Earth Marines that had been cut off from the rest of their group. In a twist,
BT had accepted the posthumously given Congressional Medal of honor for his
other self. Mike thought, how does one ever come to terms with something like
that? Since then BT had turned to the spiritual, sometimes bordering on occult
elements of life. Most of the adventures BT had set up had yielded little
results but more than a few had Mike questioning his sanity. He hoped this one
was more of the sitting around camp drinking beer and telling stories variety.
He loved seeing his friend, it was the seeing of things that wished not to be
seen that he wanted to avoid.
“Please tell me we’re not going back to Area 51,” Mike
said.
“Hi, my name is Beth, I’ll be your waitress today, can
I start you off with any drinks?”
Mike felt his heart constrict before he looked up at
the woman who was easily double the age of the Beth that was supposedly being
held in a Mental Care facility. His heart eased up once his racing mind was
able to differentiate the two.
“I would like a carafe of Moxie,” Dee said.
“Coffee?” the server asked.
“Moxie, it’s a concoction of tar, mixed in with soda
and stirred with the fungus covered foot of a sloth,” Mike said.
“I, um, we don’t have anything like that. I’ll come
back when you’re ready to order.”
“How have you been Mike? It’s been too long. Did you
have to get clearance from the president?”
“No, we just do this thing where he pretends to leave
me alone while also having me constantly under surveillance and I pretend to
not notice the small army of people, drones and absolute surety of satellite
coverage.”
“He does, however, spend an inordinate amount of time
with his pants around his ankles and exposing his posterior at any given
moment,” Dee said. “That is also unsettling now that I have spent some time
thinking upon it.”
BT explained what he’d found while the group ate, Trip
had burned through all of the restaurants chicken nuggets and French fries
while Drababan had cleaned out the allotted fruits and vegetables for the
entire week.
“Five stars!” Trip slapped the table. “The ketchup was
exquisite! How many Michelin stars does the chef have my good lady?” He asked
before he raised his plate and licked the entire disc.
“They…they were microwaved.” The server told him
clearly confused.
“How many stars does the microwave have then?” He
asked.
“Is he serious?” The woman asked the rest of the
table.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Mike told her.
“I must have the recipe! How much?”
“We get them in bulk from Costco,” she told him.
“Excellent, I believe I have a controlling interest in
that company. How much for this fine establishment? I wish to purchase it.”
“Could we perhaps get to the place I told you about?
It would be for the best if we did so while the sun was out,” BT said.
Trip pulled out a thick wad of cash and dropped it on
the table without even counting it. “You think that’s enough?”
“Are those all hundreds?” BT asked.
“Of course, it gets too cumbersome to carry anything
smaller.”
“I think its fine,” Mike said as they walked out into
the noon day sun. “How far away is this place you needed to show us?”
“It’s in Cimarron,” BT replied.
“Dude, that’s like me asking you how dinner was and
you saying the plates were blue. Gonna need a little more information than
that.”
“Four hours.”
“Four hours? Why the hell did you have us meet here
then?”
“Because he knew about the nuggets,” Trip said. “I’ll
be coming back here every day for the next year. We should get going,” I’ll
have the shuttle follow us so we can leave from Cimarron.” Trip tapped the side
of his head. “Always thinking, I am.”
“I do not wish to be presumptuous, but would it not be
wiser to use the shuttle?” Dee asked. “We could make this journey in under five
minutes.”
“Whoa, I just had a thought!” Trip shouted.
“We know, Trip, the shuttle would be quicker,” Mike
said.
“Huh? I mean it would be but I was thinking about the 1919
Chicago White Sox and just now got why they were called the Black Sox.”
“Mike, if your friend is half as rich as he is crazy…”
“He’s filthy with it, the money I mean, well and the
crazy too, I guess. He keeps talking about all these other timelines, normally
I wouldn’t think twice about it, but we’re sort of living proof that it’s
possible.”
“You sure he’s not just preying upon that?” BT asked
thinking about it. The man had grown up on the streets of Los Angeles and his
experience had shown that somebody always wanted something from you and cared
little to how they attained it.
“What does he stand to gain? I have no money, no power
besides being a dead ringer for the president. At best, I’ll be a stand in for
Mike 2 should they fear an assassination attempt.”
“You’re a cop in a great many of your timelines.” Trip
had grabbed the, to-go, bag from the server who was smiling profusely at him.
“Why is she displaying all her teeth like that?” Trip
asked, “it’s unnerving.”
“Unsettling is probably a better word,” Drababan said.
“I see you’re making good use of the word of the day
calendar I gave you,” BT told him.
“Trip, that’s what happens when your tip is in excess
of five thousand dollars. Service with a smile,” Mike told him. “Does he seem
like some sort of evil mastermind to you?” Mike asked of his friend.
“What’s this cop shit all about?” BT asked.
“It would seem you do your best work when you are on
either side of the spectrum regarding the law. As an average citizen you tend to
blow up.” Trip blew his cheeks out. “And fat Lawrence is far from jolly.”
“Who the fuck you calling, Lawrence?” BT posted up on
the much smaller man.
“You appear to be angry for some reason, one of these
might help.” Trip reached into another pocket, his hand full of unwrapped Starburst
which were coated in a thick film of hair, fur and lint. He popped one in his
mouth before extending his hand toward BT who immediately slapped them away,
sending them spinning into the air.
“Not cool, man!” Trip turned and was retrieving the
candy from the ground. “How would you like it if I didn’t warn you in a few of
your existences of imminent danger and you were to die a horribly violent
death?”
“I’ll take my chances, crazy man!”
“You say that now, but you were begging for your life
when that Tarth was about to pull your leg free and suck the meat out while you
were still alive.”
“Mike, I don’t want to go anywhere with this man.” BT folded
his arms across his chest as he stared at the shuttle.
“He grows on you,” Mike assured him.
“That’s the last thing I want. Who knows where he’s
been? Mike, he’s eating that candy off of the ground!”
Mike’s eye began to twitch as he watched the man pop a
dirt covered candy with unidentifiable bits clinging to it, into his mouth. “Trip,
if you give me those I’ll buy you an entire carton of new ones.”
“Why would I waste perfectly good candy?”
“Think of it as an investment.”
“Smart, good thinking. Weird that in so many of your
other lives you dig holes for a living, the ones you survive in, I mean.”
Mike shuddered, he was torn, for the most part he had
a difficult time believing half of what Trip had to say, the problem was, the
other half, and where to draw the line.
The shuttle ride was uneventful, just the way Mike
liked them, he’d had enough excitement in the air to last both of his lives
currently living. BT for the most part glared at the back of Trip’s head as the
other man piloted the ship.
“Is he really the person we want driving?” BT asked
more than once.
“Funny thing, my operating under the influence charges
doesn’t count up here. Plus, there’s usually nothing to hit,” Trip replied. Instead
of landing the craft at the small municipal airport, Trip touched down on a
soccer field where kids were playing. He handed each of them a thousand dollars
to go get ice cream.
“What are you doing?” Mike asked.
“What? Is that not enough?”
“This guy is nuts.” BT pulled out his phone. “Yeah,
we’re down at the park, come and get us. My car,” he explained when he hung up.
Five minutes later a sleek black limousine pulled onto
the field.
“Deneaux limousine rentals? That’s your car?”
Mike quipped.
“Being a National Hero has perks, I got fifty percent
off,” BT clapped Mike’s shoulder hard enough to make him misstep.
An older woman dressed all in black emerged from the
car, a long slim cigarette dangling from her mouth. “A genogerian? I hope it’s
house trained, it’ll cost extra if that thing urinates in my car.”
Mike knew there were plenty of people that harbored a
strong dislike for all things alien but very few were open in their disdain. It
was generally considered unwise to speak ill of something that was so deadly.
“She would appear to be a fun one, as Michael would
say,” Drababan had been taken aback by the woman’s words.
“I asked her not to smoke in the car during the
rental.” BT was perturbed and was shaking his head as he went toward the
vehicle.
“Quit being a pansy, a little secondhand smoke never
hurt anyone,” Deneaux lit up another cigarette before getting back into the
driver’s seat.
“Aren’t you supposed to hold the doors open for us?”
BT asked.
“I would if your cheap ass had ordered the deluxe
package.” She cackled before pulling her door closed.
“Jesus, it smells like a strip joint in here,” Mike
said as he sat down. “Don’t tell Tracy I know that.”
“You’re that Talbot fellow,” Deneaux said. “I didn’t
vote for you, in fact, if the big green thing was on the ballot I would have
voted for him, instead. I mean, no disrespect but you strike me as an idiot.”
“Well, since you said, no disrespect, I suppose it’s
fine. And you didn’t vote for me.”
She laughed. “Oh, you’re the other idiot! How does
that feel? You do all the heroic shit and the other one gets all the glory!
That’s rich.” She took a large puff of her cigarette nearly dragging it down to
halfway.
Trip looked on in amazement. “You must teach me how to
do that oh master.”
“Could you just drive please and be quiet,” BT
beseeched. “Here it is!” BT said as they pulled up to an old three-story brick
structure, the placard in front listed it as the Leonard Milloy public school.
A heavy chain link fence encircled the structure, numerous signs warning of no
entry hung on it.
“Um, okay,” Mike said as he stepped out. “Please tell
me I didn’t come across the country for this. I mean unless there’s a full bar
inside.”
“Hmm, that doesn’t surprise me, most people that have
been wronged in life turn to alcohol as a means of solace and you my dear boy
were fucked extra hard, and without the benefit of any lube, whether, water or
oil based.” Deneaux was leaning against her car, face toward the sun, eyes
closed as she smoked another cigarette. The way she held the smoke and slowly
released it coupled with the expression on her face made Mike think she was
having a near sexual experience and that skeeved him out to no end.
“It’s haunted,” BT said.
“That’s what the locals say, look around brainchild, the
most fun one can have around this town is to go grocery shopping and that store
is only three aisles. This is the only means of tourism money they have
available and it is completely overexaggerated. Three meth heads said they saw
something inside, well two did, one of them never made it out, never found his
body. The good money is the likelihood the third tweaker never existed and was
as made up as the sighting.”
“Who is benefitting from this?” Mike asked pulling on
the thick padlock. “There’s no exchange of money. Doesn’t look like we’re going
on a tour.”
Deneaux pulled off her black chauffeur cap and donned
a blue baseball cap that read Deneaux’s Dungeons Etc.
“Oh, come on!” Mike exclaimed. “BT this whole thing
feels like a shake down. How much did she charge?”
“You can report it to the police chief if you like,
but he’s my nephew.” She cackled again. “Want me to call him?” She pulled out
her phone. “No service…that’s strange. Happens out here from time to time. I
find it enhances the experience, people are more easily scared when they
believe they are isolated. Ready?” She shouldered Mike out of the way as she
placed a key in the lock and unwound the chain from the gate.
“Buddy, you need a different hobby,” Mike said to BT
as he followed the crone to the large green double doors that signified their
entrance into the underworld, if the hastily scrawled words embedded in the
paint were to be believed.
“Hold on, I don’t think I’m high enough to
hallucinate!” Trip popped a handful of pills into his mouth and downed it with
a flask of liquid that smelled highly flammable. “That should do it.”
“What the fuck?” BT exclaimed. “Do we need to bring
him to the hospital? Get his stomach pumped?”
“That’s what I asked the first half dozen times I saw
him do that. He’ll be fine,” Mike said.
“If he dies in here, I’m not dragging his body out. I’ll
leave him where he lays, it’ll add to the ambiance of the place.” Deneaux was
fumbling with her Hello Kitty key ring. The door opened with a loud creaking
noise. “I had a speaker installed to make that sound.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Mike asked.
“Your friend already spent his money, there are no
refunds and I like pointing out how stupid people are,” she replied.
The floor to the large foyer was a gray slate that was
buffed to a high gloss, though it did not shine, the sunlight which was bright
appeared to stop at the doorstep. It had hesitantly placed a toe inside and
decided it was too cold to proceed. Mike found that strange but said nothing
more about it as he stepped over the threshold. A chill made his body
involuntarily shiver. The temperature outside had been in the high sixties it
was considerably cooler within.
“Come on, come on, get in so I can lock the doors,” Deneaux
spoke around the cigarette dangling from her mouth.
“What?” Mike asked turning back around.
“I told you that is was an overnighter,” BT said
blocking the other man’s exit.
“You most certainly did not!”
“Oh, that’s right, I told Tracy.”
“Not cool, man.”
“I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t have come.”
“No shit, Sherlock, excuse me for not wanting to sleep
in a pseudo haunted old freezing ass schoolhouse.”
“It is pretty cold in here.” BT seemed to be
noticing that for the first time.
“Hey, the Smoke Master General says there’s spirits in
here,” Trip said. “Exactly where would they be as I’m running a little low.” He
swished his canteen around.
“I do not believe she was referring to alcoholic
spirits,” Drababan replied.
“What other kind are there?” Trip asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Deneaux was laughing as
she closed the doors. The sound of the heavy bolt being set into place
reverberated throughout the room.
“This is fun, right?” BT asked.
“There are a lot of things I find fun. This isn’t one
of them,” Mike told him.
“Then an adventure, maybe?” BT was grasping.
“We literally fought a space battle, do I look like I
need a little shot of adrenaline in my life? We were mainlining the shit for
months!”
“You appear to be tightly spun, Michael, perhaps this
is exactly what you need.”
“It’s wound tight,” Trip corrected.
“Thank you, funny little hairy man, who enjoys an
abundance of mind stimulants,” Drababan said.
“You can just call him a hippie,” Mike said. “Is there
at least food in this place?” He acquiesced, realizing it was too late and complaining
wasn’t going to do him any good.
“I paid extra, the teacher’s lounge is supposed to
have a full spread.” BT was smiling.
“And you trust her?” Mike asked. “Best bet it’s a pack
of horrid Pop-Tarts.”
“I love Pop-Tarts!” Trip exclaimed.
“They’re unfrosted,” Mike said.
“What kind of demon spawn is that woman!” Trip looked
on the verge of tears.
“Seriously bud, we’re here now, so I won’t bitch about
it too much, but what about this place even seemed remotely haunted to you?”
“Have you seen the curator?” BT joked. “Okay, okay
take her and the hokey haunted tour crap out of the equation. This place sits
on an important intersection of ley lines.”
“Oh, come on BT, was it also an ancient Indian Burial
ground?”
“Native Americans,” Trip corrected.
Mike ignored Trip’s comment. “What about witches? Was
this place a coven once?”
“They prefer the term Wiccan…”
“Trip, I don’t give a shit,” Mike spun on the man.
“Purveyors.” He finished.
“The old bat took your money and we’re stuck in this
freezing, dark and dingy place. And speaking of which, why is it so cold and
dark?” He was looking up to the large panel windows that glowed brightly but
again the light stopped before entering. “Probably more tricks like the
creaking door. Special coated glass or something.”
“We should check out the lounge,” Trip said. “If
there’s nothing good I’ll build a restaurant next door and have them deliver.”
“You could always have another establishment deliver
food,” Drababan said.
“Do you need a job? I could make you a CEO. I’d have
to have office furniture specially made. I could really use hard chargers like
you. What size suit do you take? You look like a hundred and seven tall.”
“Dee, I would pay good money to see you in a suit and
tie, with some nice alligator shoes.” Mike smiled.
“Perhaps I could find you a vest crafted with gorilla
hide,” Drababan retorted.
“It’s not an ancient In…Native American burial ground,
no. But there was a catastrophic mining accident in this town and the section
that collapsed and killed thirty-two men is a hundred feet below our feet.
Before Deneaux snatched this building up and started selling overpriced tickets
there are some well documented encounters from ghost hunting groups.”
“If you say so,” Mike told him heading down the
hallway to where he hoped the teacher’s lounge was. His only knowledge of ghost
hunting groups was of the audio tapes that were purported to have spirits
talking, but to Mike always sounded like random noises that people then
convinced each other were words or fragments of sentences. His gaze was fixed
on the end of the hallway which was marginally brighter than the rest of the
area. He could see dust hanging in the air and what looked like smoke lazily
swirling about, he hoped it was from the food spread Deneaux was supposed to
have left but he was more than half convinced it was an asbestos fire.
He paused when the smoke and dust began to coalesce,
for the span of a few quickened heartbeats it took on the general shape of a
face, a face in a great deal of pain. Mike closed his eyes and shook his head.
“This is how this shit always starts in movies, you see this half-assed portent
crap and by tonight we’ll be running from demons. I think I’m going to find a
window to crawl out of. Did anyone else see that?” He had turned, frowning when
he realized that none had followed.
“Just seeing shit, this stuff only happens in movies.”
He forced himself forward, a sickeningly sweet smell assailed his nostrils. The
closer to the open door he walked, the thicker the stench became. He’d been
around enough of it to know what it was, and was in no mood to see what he
figured was a pile of dead rats or worse. His senses became scrambled as he
turned into the doorway. A feast fit for royalty sat atop two large folding
tables. A perfectly roasted turkey steamed in the center, surrounded by a
heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, cornbread stuffing, a tinfoil container full
of smoked sausages, various types of breads and rolls were off to the side. The
meal looked better than anything he’d eaten in the last year, but the stench of
death instead of dissipating only grew worse as he walked toward the tables. His
mouth wanted to salivate at what his eyes were seeing, his stomach wanted to
evacuate itself from what his nose was smelling.
“Whoa!” Trip had come into the room and immediately
ran to the table grabbing food with his hands, starting with the mashed
potatoes which he shoveled into his mouth. “Smells frunny,” he said around a
mouthful of food, butter was dripping down his beard, for the briefest of
flashes Mike would have sworn it appeared to have been the lumpy congealed fat of
something better left unidentified. And just as quickly it became butter again,
which Trip scooped from his beard and popped into his mouth.
“Come on! Tell your freaky friend there’s utensils
Mike! I’m not as bad as you about germs, no one is, really, but still, sticking
your hands in mashed potatoes is frowned upon in the civilized world and who
knows where his hands have been!” BT had come in immediately followed by
Drababan.
“Something is not right in here.” Drababan had a look
of concentration as he slowly surveyed the room.
“Do you smell something, too?” Mike asked.
“Smell? No. Visually, the spectrum of light in here is
altered. I cannot be sure exactly what I am seeing but the colors are muted and
gray around the edges.”
“I think we should get out of here,” Mike said as he
headed over to a window. Undoing the latch he tried to push up, it did not
move. “Doesn’t look like it’s painted shut.” He ran his finger along the sill.
“I have always wondered what it would be like to be
such a puny being.” Drababan walked over. “I am not advocating we should leave,
I just very much enjoy the chance to upstage my friend whenever I can.” He gave
a reasonable facsimile of a smile, although on the huge alien it looked
predatory. Drababan placed his hand on the sill and pushed, when nothing
happened he got low for more leverage, he grunted loudly as he tried again.
“Upstage my ass.” Mike was watching and as much as he
wanted that window opened he found it humorous that Dee was going to have to
swallow his words.
“Thing probably hasn’t been opened in decades,” BT offered.
“That may be, but I have placed enough pressure that
the wood should have broken into pieces by now.” Dee had bent down to
investigate the window.
“Grood fing you didn’t.” Trip had food spewing from
his mouth as he spoke. “Deneaux looks like she’d sue you for vandalism.”
“Yeah, she can bill the government for all I give a
shit about it.” Mike grabbed a handful of cloth napkins from the table and
wrapped his hand.
“I do not recommend that,” Dee said as Mike punched
the window.
“Mother…” The rest of Mike’s curse word was cut off as
he cradled his hand. “Like punching bricks!”
“How would he know that?” Trip asked BT.
“There are beach balls with sharper points,” BT
responded. “The idea is to spend the night here, witness some supernatural
events, not to try and get out. This isn’t an escape room.”
“Yeah, in an escape room you have the ability to
leave, by either figuring it out or hitting a panic button, I don’t think that
either thing is an option here.” Mike had unwrapped his hand and was flexing
his fingers looking to see if anything was broken, when he was satisfied that
wasn’t the case he looked to the windowpane which at the minimum should have
been starred, even if it had been safety glass it would have given somewhat.
“Are you going to try?” Mike motioned to Dee.
“It truly looked like it hurt, I do not wish to put
myself through the same discomfort,” Drababan told him.
“Come on, Dee, if you punch that window as hard as you
can you’ll probably knock the wall down,” Mike goaded, not caring if it took
extreme flattery to make his friend get them out of what he was increasingly
believing to be a trap.
“No one’s knocking walls down,” BT moved to intercept,
he had his hands up. “You’re not thinking right, Mike, just have a little food
and we’ll think this through.”
“I’m not hangry,” Mike told him. “This place is…”
“Wrong,” Drababan finished.
“See what you did? Now you’re just infecting minds!”
BT was pointing a beefy finger at Mike’s chest.
“I do not believe he is capable of doing that,” Dee
said before he took half a step backward. He was pointing back toward the door.
The swirling smoke and dust had slowed and began to
take on the shape of a young girl. She was translucent, save her gaping maw, which
appeared to be a black hole into an abyss. The wall behind her could just be
made out, except for the light leeching mouth.
“It’s always young girls, are they inherently creepier
than young boys?” Trip asked. He’d stopped eating to look at the spirit.
“Just a trick, a projector or something,” BT said although
if mentally he believed that, physically he did not, as he sidestepped closer
to where Mike and Dee were.
“This isn’t Scooby Doo,” Mike replied.
The spirit drifted slowly in, the toes on its feet
pointing down were still some six inches from touching the floor. Where she
passed, the color in the room began to fade, paint peeled, wood cracked, tile
broke, portions of the ceiling caved in. As she got to the table with the food,
the turkey blackened, mold and fungus grew upon it. The mashed potatoes
solidified into a green unidentifiable mass. Mike was sure this was the source
of what he had smelled. The decay wasn’t the illusion, it was the other way
around. They were just now seeing what had always been there.
“Is this one of those movies where we’re dead, and we
don’t realize it until the end?” Trip asked, he’d tossed the handful of jellied
cranberry he was about to eat when he saw that maggots wriggled all along the
brown surface.
“This isn’t a movie or a fucking television show!”
Mike yelled backing up more so that he could smack the window with the point of
his elbow. The entity stopped five feet from them before dissipating. The
revealed portion of the room stayed as it was. The stink even more prevalent. A
leg on the table collapsed sending everything crashing to the floor.
“Jump scare,” Trip said. “A cheap but effective
element in any half decent horror movie, the quality ones though do not rely on
that, but rather a slow buildup of dread and tension. Makes the audience
uncomfortable. The horror comes in the form of something insidious, whereas in
your typical B-Movies, it’s a slasher of some sort. Large knives the weapon of
choice and the foil usually can’t be killed.”
“Again Trip this is real,” Mike told him as he went to
the doorway and looked down the hall.
“This isn’t real,” BT said. “Right? How many people
actually see a full body apparition?”
“Senses, especially sight, can be easily tricked into
seeing what is not there. This was not one of those times. I stand with Michael
on his desire to leave the premises. I think we should do so before it becomes
a need,” Drababan said.
“Even if it was a ghost what possible harm could
befall us?” BT asked, unsure if he wanted an answer.
“If this room was not already aged, what would have
happened to us if the girl ghost had made it to our location?” Dee asked.
“Food was good, ambiance is lacking, three stars,”
Trip said. “There weren’t even candles on the table to light my joints! I might
make it two stars, but that seems harsh, after all they’re just trying to make
a living or is it killing?”
Mike had begun to walk down the hallway when he felt
something shift, he was unsure if it was external or internal. It wasn’t that
the hallway had grown in length but rather he was moving at a much slower pace
that would not allow him to get to the end and the foyer. He felt fine, not the
molasses movements of one stuck in a nightmare pursued by a monster, or the
relentless sliding of one’s feet as they sought purchase on an icy surface. He
turned, Drababan was no more than ten feet behind him and was moving, yet the
distance between them stayed constant. Dee’s expression became one of confusion
before quickly moving to anger at whatever had him trapped.
“Is this happening to you as well?” Drababan asked.
Mike had more than half expected the words to sound as if they were moving through
syrup, instead they were as they should have been.
“Let’s try to move toward each other,” Mike said. “I
don’t get it.” This after a few steps. He was moving, he was sure of it, as was
his friend, yet when he spoke he was certain they were further apart. Mike
tried everything he could think of to close the space, walking sideways, backing
up, even taking leaping steps, each go was less successful than the previous.
His heart began to hammer in his chest, it was one thing to be stuck within a
haunted schoolhouse with others, but separated and alone was more than he felt
capable of dealing with.
“Nothing appears to be working,” Dee said.
Mike nearly said, no shit, but his friend
didn’t deserve that. “Tell, BT and Trip not to come out here.”
“What’s that?” Trip asked stepping out into the
hallway. “Whoa, this is weird.” He began pantomiming as if he were stuck in a
box. Drababan was easily within his reach yet when the man went to swat at his
arm, he came up short. “Going to go out on a limb and say physics is broken
here.”
“Is this an aftereffect of the time loop?” Mike meant
to think that.
“This iteration of myself was not aboard that ship,
Michael, why would I be affected?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m grasping at straws
here.”
“Just use a dollar bill if you need to, for a straw I
mean.” Trip pressed his finger to the side of his nose and made a snorting
noise.
“I’m not talking about snorting coke, Trip,” Mike told
him. “This isn’t the time.”
“That’s where your wrong because there’s never a bad
time,” Trip told him as he patted himself down for his stash.
“It would appear that we are stuck here and forced
into isolation of a sorts.” Dee had stopped moving as was attempting to reason
out exactly what was happening.
“I’m going for the front door. Where’s BT?” Mike
asked.
Trip turned to look into the room he’d moments before
exited. “I think the hallucinogens are kicking in. But instead of seeing things
that aren’t there, I seem to not be seeing things that are supposed to be
there. Is that a thing?” he asked.
“Less High-enese and more English,” Mike told him.
“The extra largeth man with the attitude, is no longereth
contained within the confines of the four walled area I have previously vacated.
Is that high English enough for you? I met Shakespeare once, he did not at all
talk like he wrote. Sailors on shore leave for the first time in six months are
less foul. Man could put away a barrel of wine like nobody’s business, though.”
“Dee, can you check?”
“Michael I do not believe I will be able to get close
enough to the door to do so.”
“What’s the point of this?” Mike threw his hands up.
“I suppose it could be some form of purgatory, leading us back to the, our we
dead, theory. But this doesn’t feel like that. We’re being toyed with. A cat blocking
off the escape of its ensnared mouse. Maybe whatever it is, isn’t powerful
enough to take us all on at the same time.”
“Or…” Dee began, “it wants us to watch.”
“Come on Dee, why would you go there?”
“It is a viable outcome and until blood starts
spilling, I am curious.”
“And if blood starts spilling, then what?”
“I will reevaluate my stance.”
“I would rather not get to that point. I’m going for
the door, follow if you can.”
“Is it wise to separate?” Dee asked.
“We already are,” Mike told him before turning and
walking, as he kept his gaze fixed ahead he realized he didn’t appear to be
making any headway, but when he turned to tell Dee and Trip that, they were
somehow noticeably further away. “I have no idea what’s going on but I don’t
like it.”
“Did you say something?” Dee asked his voice was
oscillating, as if he were passing by on a fast-moving car.
Mike closed his eyes doing his best to assuage the
panic that was rising within him. He was acutely aware of how poorly it was
working. He’d never been one able to contain his feelings or change them
quickly. “Going to have to ride this out. Just hope the carnie operator doesn’t
go on break and forget to turn it off.” He shuffled along, keeping his eyes
shut tight and was surprised when the front of his boots collided with a wall.
“What?” he stumbled back when he opened his eyes and was staring directly into
a sepia-colored old photo of the third-grade graduating class of 1909. He
couldn’t be sure be he felt positive that whoever the ghost had been she was in
this picture. A little bit like, The Shining, he thought sourly. “I
swear if I see twins, I plan on shitting myself then scooping said shit up and
tossing it at them like a pissed off monkey, that’ll teach them to scare the
crap out of me.” Mike forced himself to smile, it felt like something he’d had
to relearn after a life altering accident, wholly unnatural.
“Feel like I pulled a muscle.” He rubbed his cheek.
“But I moved, what did I do differently?” Then he realized it may have been
nothing on his part and only the entity screwing with their lives enacting part
two of her evil plan. He could no longer see Trip or Dee, though he could see down
the entire hallway. “This does seem an awful lot like the time bubble, a
bending of space or something, the question is why. First things first, let’s
see if there’s a way out.” He wasn’t sure what he was going to do at that
point. If he got out would he dare to go in again and be stuck? He turned to
head to the door which wasn’t more than fifteen feet away, but no matter how
fast he tried to get to it the distance remained the same.
“Think, think,” He rapped the side of his head so hard
he saw stars, he closed his eyes as he shook away the pain. Then it dawned on
him. He was nearly too frightened to try it. “What if it doesn’t work? Then
what? No worse off than you are now. How much trouble am I in if I need to give
myself a pep talk? A lot,” he answered before nodding at his response.
He closed his eyes, took a breath and moved much
faster than he’d meant to, instead of the toes of his boots he smacked his nose
hard enough into the door he bled. The pain was immediate and his eyes teared
up, partly from the pain but some from his success. He tried the door but it
was locked fast. He knew beating against it would be futile.
“I, at least, know how to move around this fun house,
now I need to find the rest. Slow, this time, though.” Blood dripped down his
face and into his mouth. “Five steps at a time, no more than that.”
He’d just finished his short journey and opened his
eyes only to realize he was now less than a pace away from a ghost…the
ghost Her opaque eyes were cloudy and weren’t focused on anything at first until
Mike saw her, then her head spun quickly much too quickly and her rheumy gaze
was fixed on him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed breathlessly, closing
his eyes tightly like a seven-year-old might do when they believe there’s a
monster under the bed, certain in the fact that if you couldn’t see it, then it
couldn’t see you. Mike took a few steps to the right to be out of its immediate
path. He was convinced his logic was utter bullshit, the same kind generally
reserved for people when they were extremely drunk and everything spoken
sounded like world breaking revelations. He knew as soon as he opened his eyes
she would be in front of him ready to syphon his soul away.
“Wheeeeere are yoooooou?” The words were coldly
whispered and drawn out over rusty razor blades.
He couldn’t hear movement, as much as sense it, she
was looking, in so much as she could through her film covered eyes. Mike
desperately wanted to open his, unsure if she was merely teasing him, waiting
for him to look and she would be less than an inch from his face.
“Killlll yooooou,” she said, her voice dancing along
the tops of gravestones.
I know the general layout of this place, Mike thought as he sought his way back down the
hallway, he kept close to the wall, trailing one hand on it and the other
straight out in front of him, he didn’t want to take another strike to his nose,
he was afraid no matter how much he tried to stifle it, he would scream out.
And if the ghost were dependent on his vision it stood to reason she could hear
him as well.
A high-pitched echoing giggle emanated from the girl
and like the passing of a dangerous storm, the air pressure within the room
changed, becoming more buoyant. She had left, most likely going to play with
someone more willing. Mike squinted just enough that the majority of his sight
was obscured by eyelashes. He breathed a sigh of relief when the ghost’s pallid
purple blue features were not staring back. He opened them fully and did a
quick three sixty to make sure he was indeed alone.
“Okay, I sort of get the whole looking through my eyes
aspect, but what’s that got to do with moving around this place? They’re
connected somehow. Just need to find the rest.” He thought it would be easy now
that he could more or less move freely throughout the building, even if he had
to do so with his eyes closed. He was back by the teachers lounge, none of his
friends were there. The room had not changed from its disturbing display,
although the stench of decay had mellowed to more of a sickeningly sweet stink.
“I mean why wouldn’t the passage of time be affected as well,” Mike said as his
eyebrows furrowed. “I’m going to be pissed if another one of me pops out of
this freak show of a building.” The was said mostly in jest but he was deeply
concerned how he would find anyone if they were flittering in and out of his
timeline.
He stood by the door frame for a few moments closing
his eyes for a couple of seconds, testing out if that would alter time enough
that his friends would come into focus, then he became concerned that by doing
this he might be pushing them further away. He had no way of knowing. Whoever
had printed the rule book for this game wasn’t sharing the directions. He was
stuck in indecision when he heard a low moaning coming from the floor above
him. “I always give the actors in horror movies shit for the dumb things they
do and here I am going to find out what made that noise without so much as a
flashlight to light my way. Stupid.” He repeated his last word when he took
three steps and went nowhere, he clamped his eyes shut and headed for the
stairwell at the end of the corridor. He nearly fell over and onto the stairs when
he reached the opening and was leaning too heavily against the wall. He opened
his eyes to get his bearings, an underground graveyard would have been more
illuminated than the staircase he was considering climbing. He could only see
the bottommost two steps and then for all he knew he would fall into an abyss
with no end. Even though it was as dark as Beth’s soul here, the thought that
he had to climb those stairs with his eyes closed made it somehow ten times
worse. Like it would matter somehow.
“No handrail, perfect, why would there be? Never heard
of safety in the twentieth century? Fuck.” Mike muttered wishing he had
something to grab onto when he invariably fell away. The moaning grew more pronounced,
he couldn’t say for sure, but if he had to bet he would say it came from a
human and a still living one at that, and he wanted to make sure that whoever
it was remained that way. Although he had not a clue as to what he was going to
do to about it. He climbed the first step without any problem, immediately
opening his eyes, he could now only see the step in front of him. When he
turned, the hallway was still dimly lit. He took the next step, following the
same routine. It was when he lifted his leg to climb the third that everything
began to change. The air was so frigid he could feel his pants begin to stiffen
as they seemingly flash froze. He completed his step up, his body reacting
immediately to the change in temperature, he was shivering before he could open
his eyes, look down and then look behind.
He thought perhaps his heart had frozen, he could see
nothing, not even the hand he was waving in front of his face. He could not get
his runaway panic under control, worried that this was his life now, blind in a
frozen hell. This time it was a scream of agony from above, so high pitched he
wondered if a woman was here with them. His body was convulsing with how
frantically his muscles were rubbing together in a last-ditch effort to keep
him warm. He physically moved but made no advancement, in his terror he’d kept
his eyes open wide in some small hope that a pinprick of light would find its
way to his optic nerve.
“I seeeee you,” the words spoken in an eerily sing
song way. Mike quickly clamped his eyes shut. The air around him had somehow
grown colder, he was positive that the water within his blood cells was
beginning to crystallize, he was convinced if he had been able to see his hand,
it would have been as black as his surroundings from frostbite. Stumbling up
the remaining stairs, Mike tripped and fell onto the second-floor hallway, the
cement while cool, felt like a furnace in comparison to the place he’d just
left. He opened his eyes only long to orientate himself, he stood and pressed
against the wall away from the stairs and began to walk down the corridor. It
was so quiet he could hear nothing but the rush of blood through his ears, and
right now it was a torrent.
“Help meeee.” Drifted along past him. He looked around
for the source, only to see the ghost girl begin to emerge from the stairs, a
ghoulish grin forming, her mouth overly large and packed full of razor-sharp
teeth. “There you are,” she hissed, darting straight for him. He clamped his
eyes shut so hard and fast he was surprised he didn’t hear them slam. Somehow,
he felt her fetid breath upon him wondering how a spirit could breathe, he knew
if he dared to even twitch an eye open, she would be upon him in an instant
using those teeth to rip his flesh free from his face.
“Fuck off,” Mike replied, not knowing if he’d screwed
up and had revealed his location. When he realized he wasn’t in excruciating
pain with portions of facial meat hanging down, he figured he was alright. “Okay,
you can only see me when I can see you, or maybe that’s not it, maybe you are
somehow using my sight to see. You may or may not be able to hear me, but can’t
act upon it. Does that cover everything?” The sight thing made no sense to him.
He’d known, he'd absolutely known that at one point she was less than an inch from
his face, she or it, had to have known he was there, she could have stuck out
her pus oozing tongue and licked his face if she’d had a mind to. “What am I
missing? Can she attack at all?” That left him wondering, though, he was not in
the, fuck around and find out, mood. It was true she’d turned the lounge into a
macabre horror scene, but as of yet and hopefully never, he’d not been hurt nor
seen any of his friends hurt. Because he had not visually witnessed an act
didn’t make it true or false, though, as he had no idea where his friends were,
and in what condition they currently were in. The screams could have been theirs
but again he didn’t know.
He moved slowly down the hallway staying low, hoping
that would make a smaller target of himself if the ghoul were still searching.
When his hand came to open space he paused, believing it may be a door, he kept
feeling around for the other side of it then came to the realization it was a
juncture, which couldn’t possibly be. The building wasn’t big enough and there
had not been a corresponding point on the bottom floor, then he laughed at
himself for thinking it couldn’t possibly be, when everything that was happening
couldn’t possibly be. Two hallways intersecting was the least strange thing
thus far. Instead of blindly walking down he gave the briefest of looks, at the
far end, huddled in a mass in the middle of the floor doing its best to fold in
on itself was BT, a ring of iridescent children with hands linked spun in a
circle around him, their feet a foot off the ground, they were giggling and
singing.
“Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!” In that echoing
eeriness that sounded as if it were being spoken through a tin can on a wire.
When they finished each verse they would swoop down and into BT’s face. The big
man was wide eyed staring at them, tears streaking down his face.
“Close your eyes!” Mike bellowed.
“M…M…Mike is that you?”
“Close your eyes! Do it now!” Mike screamed, the
ghosts had taken notice of him and were racing to this new plaything. Mike
clamped his mouth as tightly as he did his eyes.
“Are…are they still there?” BT’s voice was nearly
closed off from fear and a fair amount of mucous.
“Just keep your eyes closed, I don’t know how it works,
but they need you to see so they can see you!”
“S….sounds crazy, Mike.”
“Are they bothering you right now?”
“N…no.”
“Then shut up about it,” Mike told him. “I’m going to
make my way over to you, don’t fucking move.”
“What’s taking so long?” BT asked.
“My eyes are shut, too.”
“Right, right,” BT muttered. “But still, you should
hurry up.”
“Move to the wall on your right. I think I’m close.” Mike
could hear BT’s boots as they squealed on the cement as he pushed over. The big
man let out a high-pitched grunt of surprise when his hand grabbed at Mike’s
leg.
“Please tell me that’s you,” BT said.
“Don’t go any higher or I’m going to owe you dinner.”
“Really? Right now?”
“It’s how I deal with stress. So stupid glad to have
found you,” Mike awkwardly reached down and clapped at his friend’s hand.
BT grasped it and held on. “Do you mind if I hold it
for a while?” he asked.
“Normally I’d feel a bit self-conscious about this but
since neither of us can see, I’m cool with it.” Mike wanted to smile for the
first time in what seemed like ages.
“What’s going on?” BT had moved so he had his back to
the wall, Mike scooted down so he was next to him.
“I don’t know, apparently our lives weren’t full of
enough adventure that you decided heading to what might be the most haunted
location on the planet would be a good idea.”
“I didn’t think it would be anything like this,
thought maybe we’d hear something or if we were really lucky see a moving
shadow.”
“If seeing a moving shadow was us being lucky, then we
hit the lottery.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Were you crying?”
“What?”
“Earlier, when the horror movie kids were dancing
around you. Were you crying?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I most
assuredly wasn’t crying, though.”
“Most assuredly?” Mike asked.
“You planning on telling anyone?” BT asked as he began
to crush Mike’s hand.
“No! Fuck no! Stop!” He yanked his hand free and
frantically waved it around hoping the bones would slide back into their
natural position.
“Any idea where Dee and that hippie Trip are?” BT
asked.
Mike shook his head, then when he realized the other
man couldn’t see the gesture, he said, “no, I lost sight of them almost right
after they lost sight of you. Speaking of which, do you know what happened?
Wasn’t like you could go anywhere.”
“I…don’t know, or I can’t explain it, which I suppose
is the same thing. One second I’m in there watching Dee and then I was nowhere
for a while.”
“Was it cold?”
“Freezing, how do you know?”
“I was nowhere for a while, too.”
“The wall or something in the wall changed, a black
mass reached out, snatched me right off my feet. It was not human and I don’t
think it ever was.”
Mike could feel his friend shiver and it had nothing
to do with the lingering cold, he did not even want to entertain what that
could mean. Not the shivering part, which was self-explanatory.
“If I had a little less character, I’m not ashamed to
admit I’d try and find a way out, believing that Dee and the hippie already
did. I think if I told myself that lie enough times I’d eventually be able to
get a decent night of sleep.”
“What if I found a way out and you went and got them
then? That way we both get what we want,” Mike said.
“I guess it’s about time to go look.” BT grabbed Mike’s
hand, pushed against the wall and stood, dragging Mike up with him.
“I suppose so,” Mike said as he got to his feet. “You’re
not going to let go of my hand are you.” It was not a question, didn’t matter,
BT didn’t answer.
“Any idea where to go?” BT asked after they’d moved
back to the hallway junction.
“I have a feeling that we’ll get to where we need to
be,” Mike replied. “And by feeling, I mean sense of dread.”
“Yeah, I got that,” BT told him.
“I think if we get out of here, you should ask for
your money back.”
“No can do, I had to sign a form that said I wouldn’t
no matter whether something was seen or not. Even had to sign a no sue
clause.”
“What? Didn’t that make you stop and think for a
second, what might have happened here previously that would have necessitated
it?”
“She said it was standard boiler plate stuff.”
“Well, I guess it’s sort of good,” Mike said. “At
least that meant they survived so they could sue.”
“Um,” BT began.
“What?” Mike begged.
“She only mentioned this in passing, and I didn’t
think much about it until right now, but the form also states that’s surviving
family members couldn’t sue, either.” BT got the words out of his mouth as fast
as he could.
“BT, you basically gave the witch, carte blanche with
us!”
“No, no it’s nothing like that,” BT attempted
justification.
“No? Well, I beg to differ, I’d have you look around
but that’s unwise.”
“Fuck you, Mike.”
“Sucks being on the wrong end of logic doesn’t it?
Welcome to my world.”
“Fuck you, Mike.”
They were moving slowly down the hallway, Mike was
positive that there was a chilling suspenseful soundtrack playing along as they
did so, while everything imaginable swirled around them, patiently waiting for
their opportunity to strike. Apparently BT was feeling somewhat of the same
thing. As he asked: “Do you think it would be scarier to hear the Jaws prowling
music, duunnn dunnn… duuuunnnn duun… duuunnnnnnnn dun dun dun dun dun dun
dun dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn dunnnn or Jason’s ch, ch, ch, ah, ah, ah?”
“Dude!”
“What?”
“Don’t what me, we’re in a real-life house of horrors
and you’re trying to figure out the best sound track we die to.”
“I feel like you’re being overly dramatic, Tracy
warned me about it.”
“I…I don’t even know what to say to that. It’s like
you’re blind to the whole situation!”
Incredulously BT started laughing. “That’s hilarious!”
Mike couldn’t help himself, the stress of the
situation was going to manifest one way or the other, it was laughing or
shitting his pants. He decided laughing would be less odiferous.
“You think the ghosts are getting a kick out of this?”
Mike was wiping away the tears that were leaking from the corners of his eyes.
“Probably staring at us right now shaking their heads,
they’re doing their best to scare us into early graves and we’re laughing at
them.” BT raised a lone eagle above his head and twisted his arm around making
sure that it could be viewed from every angle.
Deep groaning sobered them up quickly enough, it was
one thing for you to personally be in danger but a whole other thing when it
was someone you cared for. It was a strange phenomenon. When an individual was
being threatened, the response tended to be very subdued, subservient even as a
means of preserving one’s life, but when someone they cared for was in danger,
it became all hands-on deck with little regard for personal safety.
“Any idea where that’s coming from?” BT asked.
Mike thought it was coming from everywhere, all at
once. Which was no help and uttered, he did not.
“I need to open my eyes.”
Mike couldn’t decide what to say, sure on one hand
they needed the orientation, on the other, didn’t need much explaining.
“You going to say anything?” BT asked.
“Better you than me?” Mike shrugged.
“How in the fuck did your doppelganger become
President?”
“I would imagine he was the one that counted the
ballots.”
“Damn!” BT yelled, yanking on Mike’s arm and pulling
him to the side.
“What?”
“There’s a dozen of them, maybe more.”
Mike didn’t need any clarification on what the them
were. “You see anywhere we need to go?”
“The end of this hallway is black.”
“Come on then,” Mike sighed, knowing full well that
was their destination. “Did they see you?”
“What do you think?” BT answered sarcastically.
“You have no desire to hear what I’m actually thinking,
because it’s a bunch of swear words with your name intermingled.”
BT paused. “Fair enough.”
“And bacon.”
“Let’s get this over with.” BT pulled on Mike’s hand.
As they approached, the air began to cool, Mike knew
if he were to open his eyes he’d be able to see his breath.
A voice rang out from behind them. “Leaving so soon?”
It cackled.
Neither of the men had to look to know who it belonged
to.
“Deneaux,” BT breathed.
“How are you enjoying my home away from home?” she
asked. There was no warmth in her question. “I do hope you leave a good review,
that is of course if you are able to, and from where I’m standing, that is
unlikely.”
“What is this? And why are you doing it?” BT asked.
Mike thought it was a waste of breath, whatever her
reasons they would never sound rational to either of them.
“What is it, is easy enough. This is a portal of my
own construction. You see, I have created a world within a world. A place where
I can make unimaginable nightmares come true. Now nightmares would be
subjective, because for me this is a dream. A dream you willingly stepped into.
For years I’ve been looking for a way to get Michael in my clutches, I had no
idea his best friend would hand deliver him to me.”
“Me? What the hell did I do? Okay, wait, don’t answer
that. What did I do to you? Before today I’ve never seen you before in my
life.”
“The correct sentence would be, you have never seen me
before in this life. But you and I have quite a rich history.”
“What is she talking about?” BT whispered.
“How would I know, she sounds nuttier than chunky
peanut butter and I hate that crap. It’s like you’re eating bugs.”
“Mike, focus.”
“It is never easy, but I have managed to kill you in
quite a few of our shared existences. The problem is that you have done the
same to me.”
“Why?” Mike asked. “Why would I possibly want to kill
you?”
“I have asked myself the same thing may times. It is a
compulsion of sorts. We are destined to destroy each other. No matter what has
befallen the world, we gravitate toward each other and begin our deadly dance.”
“Um, we didn’t gravitate, you actively set this up.
Seems to me you’re forcing this perceived narrative,” Mike said.
“As an uncouth, lower middle-class heathen I would
imagine you enjoy the sports ball, you should understand that the best defense
is a good offense.”
“Sports ball?” Mike was stuck on the strange
descriptor. “How about you just go your way and we’ll go ours.”
“Of course you would say that when every advantage is
mine.”
“Duh,” Mike’s head turned, though he didn’t open his
eyes to the familiar voice.
“Trip?” he asked.
“Sorry it took so long to get here. Your big green
friend found a soda machine that had Moxie, we had a luxurious meal of meat
sticks and soft drinks. Or I had meat sticks, he is apparently a plantatarian.”
“Are you kidding me?” BT was riled. “We almost died!”
“But did you?” Trip asked, his words slightly garbled
as he chewed what smelled suspiciously like spicy pepperoni. “So dramatic that
one.” This punctuated by a loud slapping sound.
“You are a small hairy man, and I am a large
formidable Genogerian warrior, it is unwise of you to continually slap me when
you wish to make a point,” Drababan said.
“I had you two contained!” Deneaux shouted.
“You did, but in terms of interdimensional realities
it was a bit rudimentary,” Trip explained.
“Rudimentary? You cried in frustration for eleven
minutes straight.”
“There is no need to tell her that, we have to have
her believe that her sorcery is outclassed at every turn.”
“What is going on?” BT asked.
“No matter who or what you are, you are still within
my domain and I rule here!” Deneaux’s voice was so loud it had a physical
presence.
Mike couldn’t help himself, he had to open his eyes,
what he saw had him more confused than he could ever remember being and that
was saying a lot considering he had often showed up to his trigonometry class
stoned out of his mind.
Trip was garbed in a purple robe befitting a wizard,
although instead of a tall pointed hat he wore his Stetson. Drababan had a two-liter
half drank Moxie bottle in one hand and a large gleaming curved sword in the
other. He was doing his best not to look at Deneaux. The circle of children
ghosts had spread out to encircle the entire group.
“BT, I think I dosed one too many times, pretty sure
I’m locked up in an insane asylum somewhere.”
“’Bout time,” the big man responded.
“Open your eyes and please tell me what you see.”
“The ghosts?” BT asked.
“Seem to be busy, but thank you for your concern about
me.”
“No sense in both of us going down.”
Mike thought, he wasn’t wrong.
“Jesus, Mike you could have warned me, looks like she
dressed up in a costume from a budget Halloween store. How am I ever going to
get that image out of my mind?” He was referring to their less than
accommodating host.
Deneaux was wrapped in black leather straps and a
sheer negligee that hinted at her being a bitchy witch and left little to the
imagination, though all involved wished it had.
“Enough of this!” She screamed, bolts of blue
lightning issued forth from her gnarled hands, splitting and splintering. The
streaks raced out and struck the children, causing their faces to become masks
of pain and anguish, loathing and hate, Deneaux was fueling their corrupted
souls. The children danced about like the puppets on strings they were. They
began to tighten the circle, even as their bodies were twisted into savage
mimicries of what they once were.
Mike didn’t know exactly what was going to happen when
they got to him and the rest but it was likely it would not be good, far from
it. He stood back-to-back with BT waiting for the end.
“I will save us!” Dee bellowed as he swung his strange
sword at the nearest figure, the steel that had passed through the ghost,
blackened and fell away like the ash of a cigarette. “That did not work!” Dee
kept yelling as if no one had seen what had just happened.
The air around Trip was crackling but as of yet he’d
not been able to stop the advance of the demon children.
“I can’t get my magic up! I should have brought a
bigger wand. I bet this never happens to other wizards.”
“I wish someone would do something that worked!” Mike
blurted out and almost on command the air around them began to shimmer as if on
the verge of boiling.
“What is going on?” BT asked as a giant red demon
began to form and take shape.
“I am Kalandar!” he bellowed. “Breaker of dimensions, destroyer of worlds, third
conqueror of Aradinia, and soul-eater of ghouls! The right-hand demon to the
possessor, first of my kind to go forth into the wilds and return. I am the
bringer of chaos into order, the slaughterer of Bazzaros, second kin to
Denderia (she of the famed raid on the heavens), and fabled defender of the Red
Witch. Friend to the one who calls himself Talbot and has wandered the realms. My
exploits so legendary as to span multiple tomes. I have borne witness to the
descent and will be there leading the ascent. My might so feared, my skill so
dreaded, my knowledge so vast that entire prison realms have been erected to
keep me trapped; all have failed. I am the chain breaker, a gargantuan among
gods, the one so feared I was removed from Hades. All that stand before me
quake in awe. My name alone strikes foreboding into the hearts of my enemies.
There are none alive, now nor ever, who could stand before me. Those who would
oppose me are impotent in their challenge! You would dare now to defy me?”
“You know him?” Trip had asked looking over his
shoulder at Mike.
“Yeah, we go way back, same kindergarten class. No, I don’t
know him!” Mike responded.
Kalandar gave what could be considered a smile in the
underworld, though it nearly froze the blood in their veins, he gave a slight
wave of his hand to Mike.
“What in the fuck is going on?” Mike asked, wishing desperately
he could back up further but there was no where to go.
The demon swiveled his massive head to Deneaux, the bloodlust
had waned slightly in her eyes but had yet to wink out. “You go too far!” He stretched
his hand out, his enormous finger touching her chest. “How dare you bring the
children of the damned here!”
“This is my realm to do as I please!” Deneaux shouted
back.
“Soul stealing is above your station.” Kalandar told
her.
“It is not their souls I am interested in, it is the
torture of the flesh that I desire.”
“I cannot allow this!” Kalandar thundered.
“Allow? I have created this reality, I am god-like in
my abilities within its confines!” Deneaux retorted. She motioned with her hand
and the children moved toward Kalandar.
“You are about to learn that there is a vast difference
between god-like and being one.” Kalandar snatched one of the children from the
air, smoke poured forth from his fist as he squeezed the entity into non-existence.
“You…that’s impossible!” Deneaux’s eyes grew wide with
fear.
Kalandar clapped his hands, the percussion loud and
hard enough Mike thought his innards had shifted, the children disappeared.
“Come Vivian, if it is torture of the flesh you desire,
I shall grant your wish, though not as you expected.” Kalandar said and with
that Deneaux vanished. The enormous demon turned to Mike. “Hey buddy. Tell
Tracy I said hi, or is it the Azile reality for you? Wait, please tell me it isn’t
the Beth one. Those are always so messy, if you want you could come with me,
the change of scenario could do you some good.”
“Not the Beth one, dodged that bullet and I umm, I
think I’m good, I’ll stay here. But who is Azile?” Mike asked.
“Ah Tracy then, she was always good for you. Always
knew how to calm your inner demons. “Until the next time.” And with that he shimmered
and was gone.
“Bravo, bravo!” Trip was clapping his hands
enthusiastically. “Encore!” he placed two fingers into his mouth and whistled
loudly.
“Shhh, little hairy man.” Drababan placed a large hand
across the other’s face.
“I think maybe we should see if we can get out of here
now,” BT said.
“Ditto what the big man that got us all into this mess,
said.” Mike was heading for the door.
Less than a minute later they were standing in the sun-drenched
parking lot, the building was still dilapidated but had appeared to have lost
the menacing feel it had exuded.
“BT, I’m going to wish you a Happy Halloween and the
next time you want to get together on this most sacred of holidays it had better
be to hand out full sized candy bars. I’m partial to anything with peanut
butter.”