Did they ever bother laundering these outfits? I really hoped so. Who knew how many times these scrubs had been worn by somebody else over the years? Over this Halloween season alone? I shuddered, figuring it was best not to think about it.
“Whaddya think?”
I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror behind the makeup chair.
“Wow!” For lack of a better term, I looked pretty freaking demonic. I wasn’t freaked out about contact lenses like Becky was, so I’d let the last makeup guy put in a pair of contacts that made me look like one of the fast-running zombies from 28 Days Later. My pupils looked like they were glowing red and yellow from within. I was covered in so much blood that I looked like somebody cos-playing Carrie.
“I’ll take that as a compliment!” he laughed, putting the spray bottle down on top of the desk. “I’m Chuck, by the way.”
“Danny.” We shook hands. I hesitated for a second, dumb enough to not want to get my spray blood on him, and then saw that his right arm was red all the way up to the elbow. With his center-parted dark hair, Chuck reminded me of Professor Snape from the Harry Potter movies, though thankfully he seemed to be a lot nicer.
“You new at the Snare, Danny?” I nodded. “Glad to have you aboard. Maybe I’ll catch you around?”
“Sounds good. Thanks for the awesome make-up work.”
“Any time, man.”
The next victim in line for Chuck’s bloodbath was starting to get antsy, so I bugged out of make-up and went to find Becky. She was standing in the hallway across from the bustling makeup line, chatting with another girl.
“Danny, that looks great!” she clapped her hands with excitement. “We are going to have such an awesome time tonight.”
“The energy’s pretty high in this place,” the other girl drawled. “It’s building. You can feel it.”
“Oh…Danny, this is Jessica. She’s my cousin. Jessica, Danny. He’s my friend.”
Inwardly, I winced at the word friend.
“Hey,” was the best Jessica could manage. We looked each other up and down, and for a split second I got this stupid idea in my head that we were going to be rivals somehow. It made no sense though: rivals for what, exactly?
Jessica looked to be about eleven or twelve years old, and was obviously a pretty big fan of the Goth scene. She was dressed from head to toe entirely in black; a long black duster, which looked like it had seen better days, on top of black jeans with holes in the knees, and a T-shirt for what I had to assume was a band called The Cruxshadows. Black Dr. Martens boots that were only laced halfway up and makeup that made her look like something out of The Crow completed the ensemble. Weirdly, she had a long scarlet cloak folded over one arm.
Hey, you’re staring…get a grip. I had to consciously remind myself to quit being a douche. I’ll be the first one to tell you that I don’t know much about the Goth lifestyle, other than what I’d seen on TV shows like South Park; but one thing I did know was that the few Goth kids at school had gotten picked on almost as much as I had, so I ought to have plenty of sympathy for Jessica and people like her. Sure, she looked different, but then, so did I to some people.
“If you’re a friend of Becky’s, you can call me Jess,” she said quietly, maybe just to fill the awkward silence. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t said hey back, which was pretty rude.
“Cool,” I replied, trying to sound cool. “My friends call me Danny.”
She took a minute to digest that. Finally she nodded. “Awesome.”
“So what do you do here at the Snare, Jess?” I asked, genuinely interested. I figured there wouldn’t be too much time to ask questions once things got rolling tonight, so I might as well make good use of the down time now.
“I work in the Little Red Riding Hood room.”
“Don’t think I saw that on the tour.” I racked my brains, and couldn’t remember any of the rooms having an all the better to eat you with, my dear vibe to them.
Becky shot me a meaningful look. “It’s a little out of the way…behind the black maze and the mirror maze.”
“Oh.” My mouth was suddenly dry. “We, uh…we didn’t get back there.”
“It’s pretty freaking cool,” Jess said in that same flat voice. If that was how excited she got over pretty freaking cool, then I’d hate to see her reaction to something really freaking tedious. “You know the fairy tale, Little Red Riding Hood?” I nodded. “The room is tricked out like the grandma’s cabin. Grandma is a dummy inside the bed, and I’m Little Red Riding Hood.”
“That explains the cape,” I realized, nodding at the bright scarlet cloth she carried. I hadn’t noticed that it had a hood before.
“Do you want to come back and see?” she asked me, her dark eyes sparkling. I wondered if they were naturally that color, because they looked like the blackest shade of dark brown I had ever seen.
“Uh, you probably don’t have enough time before we get started,” I blustered, searching for an excuse, any excuse, not to go back anywhere near the mirror maze. “Don’t you have to get into makeup and costume and stuff?”
Without a word, Jessica slowly and very deliberately let the folded cloak fall from her arm and drop towards the floor. At the last moment, without breaking eye contact with me for even a second, she caught it and twirled it up and over her shoulders until it hung down her back. Pale fingers tied the cloak at her neck, knotting two red lace cords into a bow, and then finally she reached back and flipped the hood up and over her head with a theatrical flourish.
“I’m all ready.”
Crap. So much for that excuse.
“I’m sure that Danny would love to see,” Becky said, seeming as anxious as I was, but showing a lot more courage in the face of it.
“Lead on, please,” I said, feeling as though the words had to be dragged out of me one at a time.
With an enigmatic smile that could have meant pretty much anything, Jessica turned and made her way to the far end of the hallway. It dead-ended in a T-junction, with the scary-as-all-hell chapel on our left. I peeked inside, half-expecting the angry male spirit to still be in there, but everything was dark and quiet in there now except for a few electric candles to add a little atmosphere.
Weaving our way between small groups of kids, all of them chattering away in excitement at the prospect of the night ahead, Jessica led me and Becky to the where the corridor joined with the main hallway and hung a right. A nauseated feeling started to grow in the pit of my stomach as I realized with every sickening step that she was taking us to the same place that I had dreamed about.
There was the gift shop, with the Emergency Room on our left; here was the sneaky little entrance, hidden behind a black curtain, to the mirror maze.
Jessica ducked behind the curtain without breaking stride. Becky was a little more hesitant, but after a brief moment of indecision she just went for it. As for me…I hovered in front of the curtain like a big old ‘fraidy cat, physically wavering when I tried to get my legs to take another step. There was nothing supernatural about it: I was just afraid, plain and simple. Afraid of the Dark Man, and of what might be hiding back there in amongst all those mirrors.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
My hands started to tremble, ever so slightly at first, but more noticeably after I had stood there helplessly for a good thirty seconds.
Come on man, suck it up! I raged at myself, but my legs were still being stubborn, refusing to take me one step further. The anger was starting to rise now. Stupid, frightened little Seer, afraid to go where two girls had already gone.
Maze, the final frontier, Shatner’s voice began to mock me from inside my mind, to boldly go where two girls have gone before…
My cheeks started to flush, burning hot with shame. Was I really going to let a figure out of my nightmares chase me away? What would Becky make of me then?
I already knew the answer: she’d think I was a coward. And she’d be right.
Gritting my teeth, I let the
anger and shame build, then turned them loose, allowed them to blast my body out of its paralysis. Without consciously thinking about it, I swept the thin black curtain to one side and took my first faltering steps into the mirror maze – for real.
It was exactly as I’d known it would be, just as I remembered it from the nightmare; every last detail was the same, even down to the way the wooden floor creaked under my sneakers as I crept forward. There was just enough ambient light in the room to let me catch sight of my own reflection out of the corners of my eye, keeping pace with me while I went forward.
After what seemed like a mile but in reality could only have been ten or fifteen feet, I caught up with Becky. She didn’t seem to have noticed that I’d lagged behind. From in front of her, I heard a nervous little giggle that I hoped came from Jessica. My eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness now, and I could just make out the other girls’ silhouette behind her.
“It doesn’t feel so bad in here,” Becky said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
“Just because it feels fine in here now, doesn’t mean squat.” Jessica’s tone held just a hint of warning. “Things are very different in here at night, and it’s already getting dark.”
“Different how?” Becky wanted to know.
“It’s hard to explain, but it just…feels different. As though you’re not alone here, even when there are no customers coming through the maze.”
“Do you think it’s haunted?” I asked, already sure I knew the answer, but curious to know what Jessica’s take on it was.
“Totally,” she said without hesitation.
“You sound very certain,” Becky said, giving voice to exactly what I was thinking.
“I’ve seen them.”
“Them?” I frowned. Jessica wasn’t the least bit fazed at what she had just admitted.
“Figures. You know, people,” she clarified. “In the mirrors. I see them out of the corner of my eye. It happens all the time. Sometimes in the daytime, but usually at night when the Snare is open for business.”
“Couldn’t it just be your eyes playing tricks in the dark?” Becky asked, always the pragmatist.
“Maybe,” Jessica admitted. “But that doesn’t explain the touching. I feel like there are fingers running through my hair sometimes, when I’m all alone in here.”
I shivered at the thought of those unseen hands reaching out of the mirrors in the blackness and touching her.
“Besides,” she went on slowly, “this is an old hospital, remember? It would make total sense for it to be haunted. Lot of people must have died here over the years.”
She was absolutely right.
“Then there’s the graveyard next door,” Becky added. “Seems like that would add a few ghosts into the mix.”
It had been empty when we walked through it – Becky had asked me quietly whether I’d seen any spirits in there, but the only lost souls wandering aimlessly through the Tyrant’s Grove Cemetery had been the two of us.
Though I still couldn’t see much more than a couple of vague blobs in the darkness, the sound of her footsteps told me that Jessica was moving again. Becky tucked in behind her and I followed right along, determined not to get separated from the two girls in here. I wasn’t trying to be chivalrous or anything like that, you understand – I just didn’t want to be on my own in here. I had no idea how Jessica managed it at night. The atmosphere was already heavy and oppressive, which is usually a sign of the psychic energies building; people like Seers who are sensitive to that kind of thing tend to find it a little unnerving, and I was sure as heck feeling that way right now.
Jessica must have spent a lot of time in here, because she picked her way through the maze without taking a wrong turn. No matter how much the path twisted back on itself or dead-ended, she got us through it in less than five minutes: I know because I was counting down on my phone.
I was also trying to count the drops of clammy sweat that started pouring down my spine, but gave up after the first ten.
Don’t look left, Danny. Don’t look right. Whatever you do, don’t look back…just keep going forward. Which is what I did, eyes screwed tightly shut, groping blindly forward with the fingertips of my right hand tracing along the cool glass wall for guidance.
Finally, the blackness all around us was replaced by a lighter grey against my eyelids. I opened them cautiously and blinked a few times. Jessica had led us into what looked like somebody’s bedroom. It was painted in a ‘cheerful’ black color scheme from floor to ceiling. A king-sized bed was the biggest thing in the room, covered in a brightly-colored patchwork quilt on top of a beige comforter. Apart from that and a chest of drawers, the room was empty; it was as though somebody had started to furnish a bedroom for themselves, had lost enthusiasm part-way through, and then given up.
Then I noticed the figure in the bed. It was a mannequin. Only the head and shoulders stuck out – the rest of the body hidden underneath the bedclothes. It – she, I guess – had curly grey hair that was covered by an old-fashioned nightcap, like the one Ebenezer Scrooge wore in the movies. I couldn’t see her eyes, but a pair of wire-framed spectacles gleamed in the light from a single bedside lamp.
I shuddered. Those glasses reminded me of Falconer’s, and I caught myself looking warily over my shoulder towards the door we had just come through…the door that led back to the maze.
“This is it,” Jessica said, without even the slightest trace of enthusiasm. “The Little Red Riding Hood Room.”
“Then I’m guessing that this must be grandma,” Becky laughed, peeking under the mannequin’s nightcap.
“That’s right. She doesn’t talk much.”
“Jessica, did you just crack a joke?” Becky was astonished. I’m not sure if Jessica’s mouth really did quirk up slightly at the corner, or whether it was a trick of the light.
“Happens sometimes,” she shrugged.
I walked around the side of the bed to take a closer look at Granny. My heart was still beating fast, but I was beginning to calm down a little. It was like I was slowly acclimating to the place; building up my fear tolerance. I’d much sooner be here in the Red Riding Hood Room than out there in the maze.
My foot stepped in something soft and squishy, like a strip of Jell-o that had been dropped on the floor. There was a metallic click, and then suddenly all hell broke loose.
With a snap-hiss of compressed air, the top of the bed – including comforter, quilt, Granny, and all – flew up in the air, slamming against the wall behind the bed. The top of the bed was nothing but a big sheet of plywood, sitting on top of a hollow box-frame; the part that would have been the mattress on any normal bed was basically a well-disguised hiding place for a creature straight out of a Hollywood movie.
No sooner had the rubber grandmother hit the wall with a rubbery thwack, I found myself looking straight down the throat of a growling, slobbering werewolf. The monster flew up from under the bed and lunged right at me, hairy claws reaching for my throat, each one tipped with a black talon that looked wickedly sharp. A pair of jaws, full of blood-stained fangs, yawned open in front of my face, more than wide enough to chomp down on my head and swallow it whole in a single gulp.
Okay, I’ll admit it: I screamed.
I screamed like a kid. Just give me props for not peeing my pants too, alright?
Jessica simply said, “Cool, huh?”
Becky fell about laughing, holding her stomach with both hands in case her sides literally split open. It felt so good to hear her laugh, even if the joke was at my expense, and before long I joined in, chuckles at first but then giving way to full-on belly laughs.
Even Jessica was smiling. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding the least bit. She pointed to the squishy floor underneath my feet. “Pressure pad. Whoever steps on it triggers the werewolf. It’s on pneumatic pistons.”
That explained the mechanical noise I’d heard when the thing had jumped out at me. I took a closer look. Sure enough, two steel bars extended out
from underneath the werewolf’s armpits. When I craned my neck to look inside, I could see a bunch of rubber hoses and tubes that connected it to a big mechanical box.
“He’s pretty awesome,” Becky said, wiping a tear from her eye with a sleeve. “Does he have a name?”
“Fluffy,” Jessica deadpanned. I had no idea if she was kidding or not.
The werewolf had a pair of massive hairy ears that swept out and behind its head like two crazy bat wings. Its entire body was covered in shaggy fur, light grey in color, and the face had been sculpted out of rubber and then painted by someone who obviously knew what they were doing. The icing on the cake was a pair of mean-looking yellow eyes that stared glassily back at you, reflecting back the orange glow from the bedside table lamp.
“Fluffy,” I imitated Jessica, reaching out and gently patting him like I would a pet dog, or maybe Moggie if he was in the mood for some fuss. “There’s a good boy.”
“The customers have got to love him,” said Becky.
“There are usually screams.” Jessica looked back at me. “So there’s no need to feel too bad.”
“Hey, I—wait, do you hear that?” I cut myself off mid-sentence, holding up a hand for silence.
I could tell by the look on both their faces that they could hear it too.
Footsteps. Out there in the maze.
And they were getting closer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My heart was in my mouth again, pounding like a jackhammer.
“There’s somebody out there,” I hissed, shuffling backwards toward the far wall of the room.
Last Halloween (The Deadseer Chronicles Book 2) Page 12