by Brian Harmon
HE’LL BE FINE, Isabelle assured him.
Will he? wondered Eric. The truth was, he was worried. But he didn’t know what he could do about it. Time was running out. Last time he went looking for Paul, it took way too long. If he tried that again, the rat summoner would win.
YOU WERE RIGHT. IT HASN’T KILLED EITHER OF YOU YET. I’D BE WILLING TO BET IT WON’T THIS TIME EITHER
They were betting. They were betting Paul’s life.
EITHER IT WOULD TAKE TOO MUCH ENERGY TO KILL YOU WHILE HOLDING YOU IN THAT OTHER WORLD, OR IT CAN’T DO IT WITHOUT REVEALING ITSELF TO THE PARTY AND ENDING ITS FREE DINNER
That second one seemed more likely, which meant that if Paul was still in there when the party ended, he’d die. Of course, if the party ended before he stopped this thing, it wouldn’t matter if he was still in there. He’d be dead either way, right along with everyone else.
YOU JUST HAVE TO FIND THE DEMON AND KICK ITS ASS BEFORE THE PARTY ENDS
Sure. Easy as that. But first he had to figure out why he was sent here.
Nothing was going on. Everything was normal. Or as normal as could be expected, anyway. He watched an eight-year-old boy roll across the floor in front of him. He flopped onto his back, then his belly, then his back again, and so on until he’d rolled out of sight again.
Maybe it was on the second floor.
He returned to the stairwell and took them two at a time. He was feeling the pressure now. He could almost hear the seconds ticking away, making him anxious. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he stepped onto the arcade’s second floor and released it, relieved to not have ended up in some kind of arcade hell.
Danielle was standing behind the prize counter again. Again, she was staring at him.
He pretended he didn’t notice her and continued on toward the middle of the room.
The bimbo mermaid giggled at him again. Another machine was belting out a random guitar solo. A horse racing game was blaring the William Tell Overture. More Pac-Man music was playing around here somewhere. And he could also hear a monkey.
Why was he here? What was he supposed to be looking for?
He turned around, only to find himself face to face with Danielle. Her intense, brown eyes were fixed on his, her brow furrowed.
His heart leapt in his chest. He took a step back, his mind racing. What was about to happen here? What should he do? In the moment, that clown nose looked positively menacing, a splash of madness that brought him right to the brink of his fight or flight reflex and left him itching to act, but unsure just yet whether to flee or to start throwing punches.
All day, she’d been staring at him, watching him, studying him.
He couldn’t help but wonder what sort of horror she was about to reveal herself as.
A moment passed. A second, really. Maybe three. But in his moment of surprise, time felt like it had slowed to a stop.
Then, finally, she said, “Do you teach at Cakwetak University?”
Eric blinked. For a couple of seconds, he was too surprised to answer. “No…” he replied. “I teach at Creek Bend High School.”
Her eyes widened in an instant, understanding blossoming across her pudgy features. She pointed at him. “Yes!”
It seemed he’d answered correctly. He wondered what he’d won.
“That’s it. English, right?”
“That’s right.”
She laughed. “I’ve been trying all day to figure out where I knew you from. It was driving me crazy!” She pointed at him again. “I had you for a teacher.”
Eric gave her his best smile and nodded. He forced himself to unclench his fists. She wasn’t an agent of the rat summoner or of the evil clown. She wasn’t any kind of evil thing. She was only a former student trying to remember where she recognized him from.
“You probably don’t even remember me. I graduated like, five years ago. Class of twenty eleven.”
“Sure,” he said. “Danielle, wasn’t it?”
“Yes!”
Of course, he only remembered her name because Kacie told it to him. He didn’t remember her at all. And it wasn’t any wonder. Five years was a long time to remember a face. And she was probably thinner back then. And she certainly wouldn’t have had any of those tattoos when she was seventeen. Besides…whatever she might’ve looked like in high school, he was quite certain she hadn’t aged well. She looked at least ten years past high school.
“I didn’t even think of Creek Bend when I saw you,” she rambled on. “No wonder I couldn’t figure it out.”
“I am a little far from home,” he agreed.
“Wow…” she sighed.
“Wow,” agreed Eric. Wow indeed. It was difficult to imagine that he’d mistaken this woman for one of the monsters. She wasn’t some looming horror in disguise. She was a chatterbox. She was downright flighty, now that she’d finally solved the mystery of the familiar-looking stranger. “Small world, right?”
“I know! I was close, too. I had you narrowed down to a teacher. I just wasn’t thinking back far enough.”
“Well it’s good to see you again.”
“Yes! You too.”
He wished he did remember her. He wondered if she was this excitable when he had her in class. Maybe if he flipped through some old yearbooks it’d jog his memory.
Across the room, he could just see the prize counter, two young girls were there, looking at the toys on display. “I think you’ve got some customers,” he said, happy for an excuse to cut this awkward conversation short.
She turned and looked. “Oops!” she said and took off in that direction. “See you later.”
“See you,” he agreed.
He watched her go and then turned and scanned the arcade around him. Time was running out. He still didn’t know why he was sent back here. And it was getting frustrating.
“What do I do?” he asked.
He didn’t expect an answer, of course. But almost at once, he heard someone utter his name.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
He was standing in front of a hunting game. The screen flickered and rolled as he turned to face it. Images flashed before his eyes, glimpses of other parts of the building. He saw the party room, the playland, the restaurant, even the midway and the kitchen. But they passed too quickly to catch any details of the scenes.
Then a familiar, ghastly face flashed across it.
The rat summoner. The demon that was pulling the clown’s strings. The one he had to destroy.
A voice drifted through the noise of the arcade. A faint, “Help us…”
Then the image switched back to the grainy, black and white hallway. The shadowy figure was there, slowly walking toward him.
No, not just a shadow. It was the hag.
The demon.
She turned and passed through the wall again. “Help us…” whispered the machines. Then the image began to replay over and over again.
This was it. This was what he was supposed to find. He was looking at the hidden door in the basement. All he had to do was find the spot where the hag was passing through the wall.
He leaned in closer, studying the image, looking for any detail that might tell him where to look.
The smudge on the upper part of the wall. That had to be something. If he could find that on the basement wall, he could find the door.
He stood up straight again, frowning. But even if he could find it, he still didn’t know how to open it. He still didn’t have the key.
“Red…” said the ghostly voice from the hunting game’s speakers.
Red? What the hell did “red” mean?
Again, the creepy voice drifted up to him. This time, it seemed to say, “Ice…”
Ice? Like the frost that covered everything last time he was down there? Like the snow that covered the floor wherever Paul was?
From somewhere behind him, he heard, “Help us, Eric…”
Eric was sure he could be much more helpful if everyone would stop
being so damned cryptic about everything!
Red and ice. What did those things even mean?
The shadowy figure on the screen turned and walked through the wall once more. Then the image began to flicker again. For a fleeting second, he saw the arcade. He saw himself leaning over the machine.
Then the image returned to normal and he was only staring at a colorful image of a majestic elk grazing in the forest.
“Help us…” said the voice from behind him.
He turned to find the screen of a Terminator game rolling now. When he stepped closer to it, he saw that there were images of other parts of the building cycling past again, but more slowly this time. This time, he could make out all the people. Children were playing. Clown-nosed employees were still working. Parents were socializing. And the two dads were still snoozing. All over the building, people were going about their usual business, completely unaware that time was quickly running out for everyone.
“You have the key…” whispered the voice.
Eric leaned closer. Did he hear that right? He had the key?
“You’ve had it all along,” said a clear voice from behind him.
He turned to find Todd standing there, staring back at him. “What?”
“The key,” he stressed.
Eric’s hand went to his pocket, to the keys Kacie gave him. These were the only keys he had.
“Not those.”
No, not those. Todd told him when he first arrived that the key wasn’t an actual key. It was something else.
“You brought the key with you when you came here. It’s something you’ve had all along.”
Eric was confused. “I don’t understand. Why would I have had the key all along?”
The screen of the Terminator game went black. Overhead, the lights flickered faintly.
He looked up, concerned. That hadn’t happened before.
“It’s here,” said Todd. He was looking up at the ceiling and backing away. “I can’t help you anymore.”
“Wait!” said Eric. “I still don’t understand.”
But Todd was shaking his head. “Time’s up. Last life, Eric. Game over. It’s up to you now.”
That eerie giggling began to bubble out of the speakers of a snowmobile racing game behind him. He glanced around, uncertain, and when he looked back, Todd was gone.
Game over…
That didn’t sound good.
The giggling stopped as abruptly as it started and the screen of the snowmobile racing game flickered over to a shot of the arcade. He could see himself there, peering into the screen, watching himself watch himself…
He turned and looked across the room, in the direction of the video feed. Like before, there were no cameras, only one of those stupid clown statues staring back at him.
He glanced around at the other games. Everything else seemed to be working normally now.
But when he glanced back at the screen, he wasn’t looking at the same image. It was still the arcade, but it was much lower now, close to the floor, and it was aimed down one of the aisles. He could see children running around at the far end.
He looked back across the room at the clown.
But the clown wasn’t there anymore.
It was gone…
A sudden, icy panic gripped his heart. He looked back at the screen. The angle had changed again. He was looking at the back of an arcade cabinet. But as he watched, the source of the image leaned over, peering around the machine, revealing a shot of himself from behind.
Terrified, he turned and looked behind him.
Was that a flash of motion he saw behind the hunting game, or only his imagination?
He looked at the screen again. The image was on the move. Low to the ground, stalking, it weaved through the games and peered around the corner. There he was again, standing in the aisle, still staring at this screen like an idiot.
He turned and looked in that direction.
He was sure he saw something ducking out of sight this time.
The Terminator game screen went black, then flickered to another shot of the arcade. This one showed him from the other side.
He turned in time to see a flash of red dart out of sight.
Another clown.
This had officially crossed into the realm of his worst nightmares.
He retained enough logical thought to know that if he ran around screaming, he’d probably be removed from the premises and not be able to save everyone. He was going to have to force himself to remain calm.
Inside, however, all he could think was, Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
They had the exits blocked, so he slipped between the machines and made his way toward the wall, hoping to circle around the colorful, creeping horrors.
But as he made his way around, the screens nearest him kept flickering to their perspectives, showing him glimpses of himself as they followed him, stalking him from the cover of the games.
His cell phone rang. It was Karen. He accepted the call and pressed it to his ear, saying, “Not the best time!”
“Well excuse me,” she said. “I was just wondering if you were planning to wrap this clown nonsense up anytime soon because we’ve got parents starting to arrive to pick their kids up.”
Eric checked his watch. “Already?”
“There’s only, like, twenty-five minutes left. Some of them were bound to come back for their kids early.”
He turned around as something yellow and red streaked out of sight, uttering a startled, “Hah!” in the process
“What are you doing?”
“Just living out my nightmares.”
“What?”
Something giggled on the other side of a giant prize wheel.
“Nothing. I’m going there now. It’ll all be over soon.” One way or another, he was certain.
“Can you stop it?”
“I don’t know, honestly. But I have to try. Tell Holly to be ready. If I don’t make it, she’s the only one who might be able to make a difference.”
“Don’t say that!” she snapped. “You’ll be fine. You have to.”
“Just being realistic here.”
Everywhere he looked, he saw himself reflected on the screens, always from some hidden angle.
He turned in a circle, searching, and glimpsed a pale, white face peering back at him from between two machines, visible for only an instant before it darted away again.
“I’ve really got to go. Clowns. Trying to eat me. Scary. Need to concentrate.”
“What?”
“Isabelle will keep you updated.”
“Wait…”
“Sorry. Bye.”
“Eric!”
He disconnected the call and turned in another circle.
Time was growing desperately short and he was surrounded. What was he supposed to do?
Then he caught sight of the zombie apocalypse boys as they ran through the arcade on their way back to the playland. That was his exit. The clowns wouldn’t risk frightening the children. Its master couldn’t feed if they left. He stepped out into the aisle, into their path and briskly walked ahead of them so that they ran right past him. When the last one had gone by, he jogged after them, staying close enough that the clowns couldn’t attack him without them noticing.
He didn’t dare look back until he was completely clear of the arcade. He thought they’d be gone, but they were there, peering out from behind the arcade games. Not just two of them, but a dozen or more, each one with a horrific sneer in place of its silly, cartoon grin.
He didn’t look back again.
Time was running out.
He made his way around the playland and hurried to the basement.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
He unlocked the basement door again and stepped out into the hallway. The lights were back on. The ice and frost were gone. Instead, there was a smoky mist snaking along the ceiling above.
All the doors had vanished. The hallway was completely empty. Even t
he door he walked through was gone when he turned to look behind him. Turning back wasn’t even an option. He was trapped here.
Things were about to get serious now. The demon was ready to be free. The party was going to be over soon. Barely twenty minutes remained. It had very little reason to keep him alive any longer.
He had to hurry.
THAT SMUDGE, said Isabelle.
Right. The image of the hag passing through the wall was low quality, grainy. The smudge could’ve been anything from a chip in the paint to a heating vent. He had no way of even knowing which direction the video was facing, but if he could find whatever that was, it’d tell him precisely where the door was.
And yet, even as he said that, he could feel the temperature dropping. Faintly, he could hear a deep murmuring noise. The demon wasn’t holding back. It would do whatever it took to stop him now.
He fixed his attention on the screaming children upstairs and began scanning the hallway. It didn’t take long. About halfway down, on the left, there was a metal junction box mounted up near the ceiling.
Still listening to the children, he ran to it. It was on the opposite side of the hall as the video had shown it, meaning the angle of the shot was from the other side. He walked past it and eyed it from that direction. That was it. That meant the door was right there.
He placed his hand on the wall where it should be, where the hag had passed through, and felt the cool paint.
There was nothing here. It was only a wall.
Now what?
THE KEY, said Isabelle.
“Sure,” said Eric. “But what is it?”
SOMETHING YOU BROUGHT WITH YOU
“I didn’t bring anything with me. Except you. Do you know how to open it?”
HOW WOULD I OPEN IT? I’M NOT EVEN REALLY THERE
Eric turned and looked up and down the hallway. There weren’t any other junction boxes. Or anything else that would’ve looked like a smudge on the video. It had to be here.
He stared at the wall in front of him, struggling to think. But thinking was hard while also trying to keep his attention on the children playing upstairs. Especially while the temperature was dropping around him and that creepy murmuring was growing louder and louder.
