The Midnight Tour bhc-3

by Richard Laymon

  “If you’d like to just make a little detour into the employee’s restroom...”

  “No thanks.”

  “The next best thing to getting it from a real beast.”

  She stopped, turned sideways, and shoved her face up close to the twisted snout of his mask. Seething but trying to sound calm, she whispered, “Listen to me, Clyde. I’m not interested. Okay? So just keep your damn prick to yourself, keep your mouth shut and leave me alone. Please.”

  He laughed softly. It sounded strange through the mask.

  “What if I don’t?” he asked, his voice smirky and taunting. “You gonna tell on me to Lynn? Think she’ll fire me? She wouldn’t dare.”

  “Just leave me alone.”

  “Sue me for sexual harassment?”

  “Maybe.”

  He lifted a pale hand and clutched her left breast. Through the fabric of her shirt and bra, the points of the claws were sharp against her skin.

  She bashed the hand away. “Touch me again and you’ll be sorry.” She whirled around and hurried up the hallway. It was deserted in front of her. The tour had moved on.

  She heard Clyde close behind her.

  With each stride of her right leg, she felt the pistol bump against her thigh.

  Just forget about that, she told herself. I can’t shoot him for pawing me.

  Eve probably would.

  Eve!

  Why isn’t she here?

  Dana found the tour group inside the dark kitchen. They were gathered near the open pantry door, where Tuck stood with her flashlight. Its beam swept toward Dana and lit her.

  “Thought maybe the beast had nailed you,” Tuck said.

  “Nope. Everything’s fine.”

  Clyde stepped through the doorway. Tuck shined the flashlight on him. “Staying out of trouble?” she asked.

  He waved. The claws of his beast hand cast long, hooked shadows on the wall to his right.

  “Okay,” Tuck said. “Before we descend into the cellar, let me tell you that the audio tour is loaded with lies and half-truths. It’s based very closely on the original tours given by Maggie Kutch, and Maggie had a lot to hide. You already know most of this if you’ve read Janice’s books. Have any of you not read either book?”

  More than half the people in the group raised a hand.

  “That’s fine. If you’re only familiar with the audio tour and haven’t read either book, then you’ve been misled about a lot of things. During the course of tonight’s tour, I’ll be telling you what really happened.

  “Let’s start at the beginning—with the beast’s first foray into the house. On the night of August 2nd, 1903, it supposedly came wandering out of the hills, just happened to stumble upon this house, came in and slaughtered Ethel Hughes in the parlor. Then it ran upstairs and murdered Lilly’s kids. Lilly managed to escape by climbing out her bedroom window. That’s the way Maggie always told it. But that’s not how it happened.

  “The real story begins more than two months before that bloody night in August. On the night of May 18th, Lilly went down into her cellar to bring up a jar of canned fruit—and made a startling discovery. Two of her jars were broken. A third was empty. She’d had a visitor. A hungry visitor.

  “To be continued in the cellar,” Tuck said.

  Dana heard a few murmurs and moans.

  “Nobody’s required to come with me,” Tuck said. “If any of you think you can’t deal with the cellar, you’re welcome to wait for us here. Of course, you’ll be missing a major highlight of the tour.”

  “How long will you be down there?” asked Eleanor.

  “Ten minutes, maybe a little longer. Would you rather stay here?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe. Would I be the only one?”

  “I’m not going to miss the cellar,” Biff told her.

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  “Anyone else want to wait here?” Tuck asked. Nobody responded. “Looks like you’d be on your own, Eleanor.”

  “I can’t stay here by myself.”

  “Well, if you’d rather wait outside the house...”

  “And miss the tour?”

  “If you don’t want to miss the tour,” Tuck said, “you really should stick with the rest of us. It’ll be fine. The cellar might seem a little creepy, but it’s perfectly safe. We haven’t lost a tourist yet...Except for a few who stayed behind.”

  Through scattered laughter, Tuck said, “I was just kidding about that. We haven’t lost anyone. You’ll be safe whether you wait here or come with us.”

  “Come on, honey,” Biff said.

  “Well... I guess I’ll come.”

  “Bravo!” said Bixby.

  “Thata girl,” said Biff.

  “All right,” said Tuck. “Everybody wait here. I’ll go down and turn the light on. As soon as it’s on, you can begin coming down the stairs. Be careful, though. They’re very steep. I suggest you hold on to a railing.”

  Tuck vanished into the pantry.

  Dana heard whispers, a few quiet chuckles. Somebody let out a long, ghostly “Woooooooo!”

  “Childish,” said a female voice. Dana suspected Monica.

  Another female voice crooned, “Here it comes, the vile beast. It wants to rape you, then to feast. And if it doesn’t like your taste, it spits you out like gory paste.”

  Laughter and applause.

  “Awesome ditty,” said Arnold.

  “Rrrrrrrape!”

  “Huh-huh.”

  Dim light suddenly filled the doorway.

  “All right,” Tuck called. “Come on down. But please, take it carefully.”

  Though Clyde stayed close behind Dana, she tried to ignore him as she followed the tourists through the doorway, into the pantry, and down the cellar stairs.

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  THE CELLAR

  Owen wanted to ask Vein about the poem she’d recited. Where had she found it? Had she made it up? Was there more to it?

  But then the cellar light cast its glow into the pantry, Lynn called up from below, and the group started shuffling forward.

  “Here we go,” Owen whispered.

  Darke squeezed his hand.

  Side by side, they stepped through the doorway and began to follow Vein down the stairs.

  Owen felt trembly with fear and excitement.

  This is it, he thought. We’re going down.

  Can’t believe it.

  Owen had often hoped that he would someday find a chance to experience the Midnight Tour. But he’d never really expected it to happen. That he now was here seemed unreal.

  And all the more unreal because of Darke.

  It seemed impossible that such a strange, beautiful creature had actually sipped his blood, sucked him, taken him into her body, and was now holding hands with him like a cherished lover as they made their way down the stairs.

  Best night of my life!

  Below them, a woman said quietly, “I don’t liiiike this.”

  Though Owen didn’t recognize the voice, he thought it might belong to Connie, Phil’s wife.

  “It’s all right, honey,” said a guy. Phil?

  “This is the hour when the beast loves to strike,” said Vein in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “And this is its lair.”

  Nervous chuckles.

  “I do hope you’re enjoying yourself, Owie,” Monica muttered from behind him.

  Eat your heart out, he thought. But he said nothing.

  Darke turned her head and looked up at him. Her eyes made him forget all about Monica. They made him want to know every secret of Darke’s life.

  What if tonight is all we ever have? he thought. Tomorrow, maybe she won’t be interested in me anymore. She’ll go away with Vein and I’ll never see her again. Never hold her hand again, never kiss her again...

  A terrible sorrow welled up in Owen.

  She’s with me now, he told himself. I’m in the cellar on the Midnight Tour and I’ve got Darke holding my hand right now, right at thi
s very second, right here in the present. Here in the present, this is the greatest of all possible nights. Don’t ruin it by worrying about tomorrow.

  At the bottom of the stairs, they walked over the dry dirt floor of the cellar and joined the semi-circle of tourists in front of Lynn.

  Darke let go of Owen’s hand. Easing in against his side, she reached across his back and rested a hand on his hip.

  He slid his hand across the back of his own windbreaker and curled his hand over Darke’s shoulder.

  “Awwww,” said Monica. “What a handsome couple.”

  Darke rubbed his hip.

  “Did we lose anyone?” Lynn asked.

  Heads turned this way and that.

  “Beast didn’t put the snatch on anyone?” Lynn asked, grinning.

  “All accounted for,” announced Bixby.

  “Okay, then I guess we’ll continue with Lilly’s story. As I mentioned in the kitchen, she found that someone had been in the cellar, breaking jars and sampling some of her canned goods. She knew her boys hadn’t done it; the empty jar had contained beets. Her kids hated beets. So she was sure that a stranger had been down here. She was no coward, Lilly Thorn. Instead of running away, she searched the cellar. And she found a hole in the floor. This hole.” Lynn stepped aside and gestured behind her.

  Owen couldn’t see the hole. People blocked his view. He didn’t worry, though; he was certain that everyone would be given a good chance to look at it before leaving the cellar.

  “When Lilly found the hole,” Lynn said, “there was no steel cover. We added that a few years ago—along with the padlock—as a security precaution. This hole is the mouth of a tunnel that leads into the hills behind the house. We used to get occasional woodland visitors before we sealed it.

  “When Lilly found the hole, she figured it must’ve been the way in for her intruder. The next night, she came down with a shovel, planning to fill it in. But her intruder had paid another visit in the meantime, helping himself to a couple of jars of peaches. Suddenly feeling sorry for him, Lilly gave up her notion of filling the hole. In her diary, she wrote, ‘My heart went out to the luckless, desperate soul who had dug into my cellar for a few mouthfuls of my preserves. I vowed to meet him, and help him if I can.’

  “Later that night, after her kids were in bed and her lover had gone home, she came back down into the cellar. She was dressed in her nightgown. She sat on the bottom stair to wait in total darkness for the arrival of her hungry visitor.

  “Soon, she heard stealthy sounds of movement from the direction of the hole. She was able to make out a dim, pale shape rising out of the darkness. ‘And I was filled with dread,’ she wrote, ‘for this was no man. Nor was he an ape.’”

  “As the creature approached Lilly, she had to see it better. So she struck a match.”

  Vein and Darke suddenly recited in unison, “‘Whether he was one of God’s exotic creatures, or an ill-made perversion vomited forth by the devil, I know not. His ghastly appearance and nudity shocked me. Yet I was drawn, by an irresistible force, to lay my hand upon his misshapen shoulder.’”

  “Very good!” Lynn said.

  Dennis and Arnold clapped wildly and said, “Far out” and “Bitchin’.” Several of the other tourists clapped as well, while others nodded in approval.

  “For those of you who might not have recognized it,” Lynn said, “Vein and Darke have just done a very nice rendition from Lilly’s diary. Making my job a lot easier. Can you give us more?”

  “If you like,” Darke said, squeezing Owen’s hand.

  “Please. Proceed.”

  Again in unison, their voices rose through the silence. “‘I allowed the match to die. In the darkness, totally without sight, I felt the creature turn.’”

  As they continued, the beast Itself—with Clyde inside—made his way through the group. Startled, some people flinched or gasped before stepping aside to let him pass.

  “‘His warm breath on my face smelled of the earth and wild, uninhabited forests. He lay his hands upon my shoulders. Claws bit into me. I stood before the creature, helpless with fear and wonder, as he split the fabric of my nightgown.’”

  Clyde in the beast suit climbed onto an old steamer trunk beside Lynn and began to strike muscle-man poses.

  “‘When I was bare, he muzzled my body like a dog. He licked my breasts. He sniffed me, even my private areas, which he probed with his snout.’”

  Lynn seemed delighted. “Excellent. Can you go on?”

  “‘He moved behind me. His claws pierced my back, forcing me to my knees.’”

  Clyde began to pantomime the beasts movements.

  “‘I felt the slippery warmth of his flesh press down on me, and I knew with certainty what he was about. The thought of it appalled me to the heart, and yet I was somehow thrilled by the touch of him, and strangely eager.

  “‘He mounted me from behind, a manner as unusual for humans as it is customary among many lower animals. At the first touch of his organ, fear wrenched my vitals, not for the safety of my flesh but for my everlasting soul. And yet I allowed him to continue. I know, now, that no power of mine could have prevented him from having his will with me. I made no attempt to resist, however. On the contrary, I welcomed his entry. I hungered for it as if I somehow presaged its magnificence.

  “Oh Lord, how he plundered me! How his claws tore my flesh! How his teeth bore into me! How his prodigious organ battered my tender womb. How brutal he was in his savagery, how gentle in his heart.

  “‘I knew, as we lay spent on the earthen cellar floor, that no man could ever stir my passion in such a way. I wept. The creature, disturbed by my outburst, slipped away into his hole and disappeared.’”

  Simultaneously, Vein and Darke bowed deeply like stage actors. Atop the steamer trunk, Clyde raised both arms in triumph.

  The midnight tourists burst into wild applause and cheers.

  Bixby shouted, “Bravo!” Others called out, “Wow!” and “Well done!” and “Great!” Through the tumult, Owen heard Dennis and Arnold shouting, “Awesome!” and “Dudes!” and “the Beast rules!”

  Owen hugged Darke. “That was fantastic!” he whispered.

  When the group settled down, Lynn said, “Thank you very much, Vein and Darke. We’ve never had anything like that before. Did you prepare it especially for tonight?”

  Vein shook her head. “We performed it for a Halloween show at college.”

  “Really?” Lynn seemed amused and delighted.

  “But we never got to finish,” Darke explained. “They stopped us.”

  “Escorted us off stage,” Vein added.

  “We almost got expelled.”

  Laughing softly, Lynn shook her head. “Why does that not surprise me?” she said.

  “This is the only time we’ve ever been allowed to do the entire piece.”

  “I wish we could have you here to do it every Saturday night,” Lynn told them. “I can’t recite all that stuff. I just paraphrase. So thank you again. You’ve given us all a real treat.”

  They received more applause.

  “And now,” said Lynn, “it’s time for a treat that is a regular feature of the Midnight Tour. I’m about to remove the padlock and open the steel cover so you’ll all be able to take a look down the hole itself. This is the beast’s actual hole. Nobody on the daytime tours ever gets a chance to see it uncovered. It’s for the midnight tourists only.”

  Lynn turned her back to the group and squatted down. Owen heard a jingle of keys.

  “Do you unlock the other one, too?” asked the man in the camel sweater.

  “Afraid not,” Lynn said. “We never open the door to the Kutch tunnel. Not even for the Midnight Tour. It’s totally off-limits. But we will be talking about the tunnel a little bit later.”

  Owen heard a quiet snick. The padlock snapping open, he supposed. A moment later, Lynn stood up and stepped to the side.

  “We’ll have our own beast do the honors,” she said. “I’m pre
ttier, but he’s stronger.”

  Clyde jumped down from the trunk. He sank to a crouch. As he came up, hinges groaned. Then came a heavy metallic clank.

  “Thank you, beast,” Lynn said.

  He gave her a casual salute, touching the claws of one hand to his brow. Then he stalked away.

  “You can come up one at a time, now, and take a good look at the hole. I’ll shine my flashlight down there for you. When you look, try to imagine Lilly Thorn’s beast crawling out of it on a summer night so long ago. A night very much like this one. Okay, who wants to go first?”

  In the silence following her question, a faint, distant voice called, “Hellllllp meeee!”

  People gasped. Others chuckled.

  “Cool,” said Arnold.

  “You’ve got someone in there?” asked the camel sweater man, sounding suprised and amused.

  “Bully!” proclaimed Bixby.

  “Awesome,” said Dennis.

  “Probably just a lame recording,” Monica said.

  Lynn held up a hand for silence. “Quiet, everyone. This isn’t part of the show.”

  “Oh, sure,” Monica muttered.

  Several people went, “SHHHHHH.”

  “...elllllp!”

  It seemed to be coming up through the hole in the cellar floor. A woman’s voice.

  “Holy shit,” Lynn muttered.

  “Let me through.” Dana’s voice sounded quiet but urgent. “Excuse me. Excuse me. Let me through.”

  As those in front of Owen stepped out of the way, he saw Lynn drop to her knees beside the hole and bend over it. “HELLO!” she yelled.

  Dana squatted beside her.

  “It’s just a big act,” Monica said.

  “Shhh.”

  “I’m in the tunnel! I can’t get out! My hands are cuffed!”

  “Holy shit,” Lynn muttered.

  Dana shouted into the hole, “EVE! IS THAT YOU!”

  “Dana? Lynn?”

  “RIGHT!” Lynn shouted. “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?”

  “What the hell took you so long?” asked the faraway voice.

  “ARE YOU OKAY?” Dana yelled.

  “Been better. Can you get me out of here?”

  “ARE YOU ALONE?” Lynn asked.

  “For now. But he might come back.”

  “Shit,” Lynn said.