Virtual Terror

by David Bergantino

  Annotation

  MORE THAN JUST AN ILLUSION…

  As soon as Keith removed the 3-D optical illusion poster from the Virtu-Illusions bag, he felt that queasy feeling again. It must have been the frozen yogurt he ate at the mall that afternoon.

  He turned back to the poster and positioned it to nail it into the wall. On the third blow he missed the nail entirely and struck the back of his left hand full force. Keith yelled and dropped the hammer. It landed dead center on the poster — and bounced off the glass.

  This was no ordinary poster. If only Keith could have seen it for what it was — an omen of a dangerous force that would be beyond his most horrifying nightmares.

  Just because you get a glimpse into the future doesn't mean you have the ability to change it — perhaps you can only live in terror until it's your turn!

  * * *

  David Bergantino

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  * * *

  David Bergantino

  Freddy Krueger's Tales of Terror #3: Virtual Terror

  For the Andersen gang

  OCR Mysuli: denlib@tut.by

  Prologue

  Welcome, my children. It's Freddy, your favorite pinup ghoul! I'm just decorating the boiler room, making it feel more homey. I'm having it done in Post Office Modern, with lots of «Wanted» posters. I had planned on something a little more cheerful, but I couldn't get enough milk carton pictures.

  What kind of posters do you have on your walls? Sports figures? Models? Movie stars? Serial killers? It's all the same thing.

  Virtual image posters are different, though. They are the ones that look like enlarged photographs of colorful television snow that contain hidden images. If you concentrate and look at them in just the right way, three-dimensional objects seem to hover just beyond the poster's surface. But remember, just because something is visible in the frame doesn't mean nothing else is there. You must look beyond, deep into the «virtual» space. There is much more to see — if you dare.

  Be warned, however, that virtual space travel is a trip taken with the mind. And the farther you go, the harder it is to return. You must always look back because if you lose sight of yourself on the other side of the glass you may become trapped. And that wouldn't be a pretty picture, would it? So you might want to stop at the images you think you're supposed to see.

  So what to do? Do you play it safe, or take the risk and explore the uncharted territory of virtual space? Just remember, if you decide to make the trip through the poster don't forget to keep an eye on yourself in the frame.

  So if you do decide to come, maybe I'll see you here on the other side. Maybe I can persuade you to become one of Freddy's poster children!

  Chapter 1

  Keith stood in the bright square of light and looked up toward its source. The skylight framed a picture of a perfect, sunny weekend afternoon in Springwood. A rarity.

  And here I am at the mall, thought Keith. As usual.

  He groaned. He would much rather be outside, watching a ball game, or even just playing catch. A walk in the park with Pam, his girlfriend, would be nice, especially if he could lead her off the path on a little romantic detour. A transient smile evaporated as he remembered that it was Pam who had dragged him to the mall.

  "Now what?" asked Pam, yanking him out of the shaft of sunlight.

  "What'd I do now?" he asked. She'd been on his case a lot today.

  "You're frowning again. Will you stop that? Please?" She rubbed his arm and gave him the Baby Face. "If you can smile, I'll let you buy me a frozen yogurt."

  The Baby Face was attached to a small, slim body, which, when used in conjunction with the Boo Boo Voice, added up to a devastatingly cute package. Some found the baby stuff irritating and manipulative, but Keith found it endearing.

  "Okay," he said, quickly forcing a wide grin. "There. See?" Taking her hand, they walked through the food court, arriving shortly in front of the yogurt shop. He ordered hazelnut for himself and peaches 'n' cream for Pam.

  "Thank you," Pam said to the clerk who handed her the cone. Then she turned to Keith and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "And thank you." He kissed her back, on the mouth, much more slowly. She finally pulled back, embarrassed. "Keith!"

  "You're right," he said, directing his lips to the frozen yogurt cone instead. "Don't want to ruin my taste for yogurt. After you, nothing tastes as sweet."

  "Gag!" Pam replied, laughing. "Let's get to The Limited. The mall is closing soon." She towed him out of the food court and back into the main section of the mall.

  As they walked — power-walked, at the pace Pam tried to drag him along — Keith realized that he felt pretty good. He hadn't been sure that this relationship with Pam was going to work out. Outwardly, they seemed mismatched. He was a moody, but mostly down-to-earth, average Joe with a quick sense of humor. She was the spoiled ice princess who needed to map out every moment of her life, years in advance. But Keith understood that the rich-bitch routine was just a cover, concealing someone who was remarkably different. Her alter ego was a determined, aggressive person who took nothing for granted. Perhaps she was overcompensating for the appearance that everything in life was handed to her on a silver platter.

  Whatever the case, Pam's willingness to work hard showed most strongly in her performance on the girls' track team. As part of her training, she ran the path that circled Springwood Park each and every day. Her practice paid off. She was the best girl on the team, and could even beat members of the boys' team in some events. There was no question but that she would earn a track scholarship to a university. It was only a matter of which university she would choose.

  Keith sighed. He was an athlete — captain of the wrestling team, no less — but he saw no scholarships in his future. To be sure, he would have no trouble going to the college of his choice. Academically, he was far above average. But he was aware that he lacked the something extra that would have truly distinguished him from his peers, the way Pam's athletic abilities set her apart.

  Suddenly he was jerked forward, almost off his feet.

  "I said stop frowning!" Pam was ahead of him. Apparently he had been moving too slowly.

  "Okay, okay already."

  "Is something wrong or what?"

  "No, just thinking. I…" Keith stopped. They were at the center of the mall, in a section populated by pushcarts. Vendors were selling merchandise ranging from beepers to mugs to T-shirts — small specialty items that didn't require an entire store. A large crowd had gathered around what appeared to be a new pushcart in the group. "Let's go check that out," he said, pulling her out of their beeline.

  Pam resisted. "But we don't have time!" she whined. "Today's the last day of the sale and the mall is closing."

  "Ah, hold your horses. This'll only take a sec." And this time, he dragged her.

  They found the crowd clustered around a pushcart that was selling framed posters. The ones on display contained no recognizable images, just colorful dots and rhythmic smears. Shoppers stood staring or squinting into them as if waiting for the posters to reveal something wondrous. Some would periodically adjust their position in front of a poster, stepping forward and back. Many shoppers held their hands up to their temples as if attempting psychic communication.

  On the other side of the cart, a woman cried, "I see it! I see it!" as if she ha
d just had an epiphany.

  A sign mounted atop the pushcart read: VIRT-UILLUSIONS. Keith smiled.

  "Virtual image posters. I love this stuff!" Releasing Pam's hand, he parked himself in front of a poster.

  "Nice… Can we go now?" asked Pam.

  "Gimme a minute. I'm good at these things. I'll look at one and we'll go."

  "Okay," Pam replied. He could sense that she was rolling her eyes at him. Keith didn't worry about it. He wasn't a terrifically demanding person and she could spare the time. And besides, she could afford to buy anything she wanted whether it was on sale or not. Of course, to be fair, he knew it was against her principles to throw money around needlessly. Still, she could wait just a minute.

  Keith stared at the glass covering a poster entitled "Dinosaurs!" Then he focused on a light reflected on the smooth surface. His eyes began to cross and blur. The dots in the poster began to swirl and separate. The outline of a mountain ridge revealed itself. Locking on to the ridge, he focused hard, and within seconds a crude three-dimensional image sprang to life within the picture frame. On the ridge, a Tyrannosaurus rex stalked a stegosaurus. To the left, a pterodactyl soared over a grazing apatosaurus. A volcano erupted far in the distance.

  "Cool," Keith muttered under his breath. He had seen this one before, but he found any virtual image fascinating.

  Just then, someone grabbed Keith roughly on the shoulder and shoved him aside. He turned quickly to face a boy about his own age, Hispanic and built like a Special Forces soldier. The other boy's eyes narrowed into threatening slits.

  "You were in my way, dude," he growled.

  Keith adopted his best street-tough voice and growled back, "Didn't yo mama teach you manners?"

  "My mama taught me a lot of things," the boy answered, in a much more authentic street-tough voice. "Like how to beat your sorry ass."

  "Oh yeah?" Keith did not back down. He vaguely noticed that the other customers at the cart had started to move away. "Come on wif it, den. Give it your best shot!"

  The other boy had stepped back and raised his fists in a defensive posture. Then he opened one hand and motioned Keith forward. "You want it, I got it. I take you out, dude. I take you out right now."

  "You think so?" Keith said, stepping forward, accepting the challenge. Then he put a finger thoughtfully to his lips and said brightly, "In that case, there's a nice Italian restaurant downtown that I like. You pay 'cause you asked me, and my mom expects me home by eleven."

  The sneer on the other boy's face lasted only a moment longer before he burst out laughing. Keith was smiling. Behind the boy, Pam was also laughing.

  "Mario, what's up?" Keith asked. But the question was rhetorical, because for the most part, Keith knew what was up with his best friend. But the question, as well as the special handshake they now launched into, was part of the ritual. So were the occasional fake fights.

  "Nothing, dude. Just crawling the mall on a nice day," Mario answered as they finished the handshake by smacking the backs of their hands together and giving each other a thumbs-up.

  "Same here. You with your aunt?"

  "No," said a voice behind Keith. "He's here with me." Keith turned toward the familiar voice. Carrie smiled at him tentatively. Her straight brown hair spilled over her shoulders. She wore a simple peasant dress that accentuated the curves in her body. "Hi, Keith," she said, revealing her perfect teeth.

  And Keith felt the most amazing thing. He felt nothing. He could finally forget that he had been madly in love with Carrie. He could finally forget that they had dated for a year before she had left him. He could forget that she was now his best friend's girlfriend. But in truth, he didn't really feel nothing. He felt the wonderful, exhilarating absence of pain. And for the first time in a long time, he saw her as a friend, not an ex who had hurt him.

  "Hi, Carrie," he said pleasantly. Then, just so their eyes wouldn't lock and make things awkward, he turned back to Mario. "Check this out — virtual image posters!"

  "I know. Can't look at those things. They give me a headache."

  "Yeah, well, we were just leaving anyway," Pam interjected. "Gotta get to The Limited sale. Right, Keith?"

  "I know," suggested Keith, "why don't you girls go there and Mario and I will meet you. I wanna check out a few more of these."

  Pam turned to Carrie. "Come with me?"

  "Sure," Carrie agreed.

  "Uh, I think I'm gonna go with them," Mario said. "I'd just get a headache, anyway."

  "All right, I'll catch up with you guys in a few minutes."

  "Can we just go?" Pam barked. With that, she almost yanked Mario's arm out of his socket to get him moving. Keith watched them for a few seconds and then turned back to the pushcart. He scanned the easels for a poster he hadn't seen before. Nothing on this side. On his way around the pushcart, he stopped at "F-15 Fighters." He'd seen this one as well, but stared at it anyway.

  "You know how these things work?" asked a voice beside him. Keith lost his concentration. Apparently it was a day for voices popping up out of nowhere. He turned and found an ugly stringy-haired guy standing next to him. Though he was probably in his early twenties, the dark circles under his eyes, the unhealthy pallor of his skin, and his general unkempt appearance made him look much older. Pinned to his wrinkled button-down shirt was a tag with the Virtu-Illusion logo.

  "No, how do they work?" Keith asked. He knew, but obviously the guy wanted to try out his sales pitch.

  "Oh, I'm Mel, by the way." The cashier offered his hand. Keith reluctantly shook it.

  "Hi. I'm Keith."

  "Cool. It's like this, Keith. The computer embeds a picture in these dots, which are otherwise in a regular pattern. The picture actually disrupts that pattern, but, like, you don't notice that by just, y'know, looking at the picture. But, y'know, when you stare at it, by crossing your eyes and stuff, sort of looking beyond the picture, your brain senses the disruption of the pattern. When it does, it tries to fit everything into the overall pattern. The image appears when your brain reorganizes the, y'know, visual information."

  "Thanks," Keith said sincerely, hoping he didn't sound sarcastic.

  "No prob," Mel answered eagerly.

  Keith moved around the cart and found a poster entitled "Mysteria." This was a new one. Mel stood silent as Keith stared at it. The hairs on the back of Keith's neck tingled with the awareness that the cashier was studying him. Maybe that was why he couldn't catch the image in this poster. He sighed heavily and concentrated harder.

  "Can't see anything in that one, can you?" Mel finally asked.

  Without taking his eyes off the poster, Keith answered, "Not yet. Do you know what I'm supposed to be looking at?"

  "Nope," Mel said, then quipped, "It's a Mysteria to me."

  Keith winced at Mel, who was smiling proudly, and resumed staring at the poster. "I'll get it eventually," he insisted.

  "Right." Mel obviously doubted Keith's ability. He kept silent for about ten seconds. "Y'know, for a minute there, I really thought you guys were gonna fight."

  "Nah, that's just an act. We're friends. Besides, I'd never pick a fight with him. He'd beat the crap out of me." He wasn't getting anything out of this poster. If Mel would stop talking, he might have a chance.

  "Yeah, I bet. Looks like a dangerous guy."

  "Nah. He's not dangerous. Moved here from the inner city, gangland, all that stuff. But he's past that."

  "Well, then, that's cool. I knew people like that when I was a kid, and I always used to want to beat the crap…"

  Suddenly something seemed to leap at his head from the poster. Keith stumbled backward and he shielded his face with his hands. Something soft and warm began to ooze quickly through his fingers and flow across his eyes. The poster had somehow thrown out a pseudo-pod of color, a bowling-ball-size glob which was now enveloping his head. The pressure began to mount as it tightened against his skin, filling his eyes and nostrils. The slime pinned his hands in their upraised position. Keith totally pan
icked when he realized, whatever this was, it held him firmly in place. He screamed and the substance rushed into his mouth and down his throat, filling his lungs. Keith began to suffocate and his mind went as black as his blinded eyes.

  Terror was his last sensation.

  Chapter 2

  Spiders, hordes of them, were crawling over his legs. A fat boa constrictor wrapped around his neck was slowly but surely tightening its coils. Screaming voices could be heard far away. Some near. There was screaming everywhere. Agonized. Desperate. Corpses, dead things, were coming for him. Coming to feed on him. Keith found himself half-buried, unable to move his limbs. Something very old, and very evil, was above him, studying him… laughing.

  Keith felt terror before consciousness. As the feeling of being buried alive quickly retreated, he realized he was not breathing. Nor was he able to. Then there was a flurry of motion, but his thrashing was restricted by several pairs of hands pinning him down. Then a dull, echoing voice began to speak:

  "Attention, shoppers… the mall will be closing in fifteen minutes."

  Only then did his instinct to breathe return, if not his ability. His vision began to clear and Keith saw a circle of faces above him, including a tall, powerfully built security guard. There was also another man whom he recognized, but only vaguely. He stopped struggling and the hands withdrew. His breath came in gasps now, but it was coming. Then the vaguely recognized face floated down next to him.

  "Wow, man. Are you okay?" The familiar stranger helped him to a sitting position. "Take it easy, they're calling an ambulance."

  "What happened?" Keith asked.

  "I don't know," answered Keith's apparent savior. "One minute you're looking at the poster and the next you're having some sort of seizure. You epileptic, man?"

  Keith didn't answer immediately. His breathing was still erratic, and therefore too precious to waste on words right now. As he looked around, the crowd that had gathered began to disperse, murmuring discontentedly. Only the security guard remained, who held Keith down with a strong hand as he tried to stand.