by Tim Thompson
“Yeah, I think so,” he answered around a mouthful of burger.
Sweat ran down my temple and I nervously wiped it away. “I’d like to pay for it.”
He finished chewing and stared at me. I never thought my boss was the sharpest guy but the look on his face made him appear outright stupid. It didn’t appear he had anything to say so I continued.
“I’d like to design the ad and pay for it out of my own pocket. I’d like for you to run it by Don for me.”
The idea of approaching Don Jacobs with a direct request from the ticking time bomb of the dealership must have had the same effect as driving over a dead skunk because he face wrinkled in disgust. “I’m not sure if that is the best idea, John.”
“I know it seems like it’s coming out of nowhere and I know I haven’t been myself recently but here is the offer I would like for you to take Don.” I pushed across the table the mock up of the ad that I had put together in Photoshop. It had the outline of a typical sales ad but included names and photos of the sales staff in the middle. Front and center was yours truly. The caption read “Good people make good deals”. By the time lunch was over I had talked my boss into taking the idea to Don. By the end of the day he reported back saying that Don had agreed assuming that I was still willing to pony up the $7000 it would cost to buy a full page ad on the
back page of Friday’s main section. I knew it would cost every last penny I had but I agreed. I couldn’t see any other way to bring this torture to an end.
***
Saturday morning I reported to the last day of my job. I didn’t tell my boss that it was my last day but I knew that I was either going to die or I would never be able to set foot on the lot of the dealership again after what was going to happen.
It was the worst day of my life. I tried to smile. I tried to make people feel comfortable about buying a car that costs as much as a small apartment. But everyone I talked to was a potential killer. I knew my attacked wore a mask and therefore, he could be anyone. I hated test drives most of all because it was just me and the customer alone in a car. The day dragged on and on and my heart beat faster and faster.
It finally ended at 8 o’clock. Somehow I had arranged two lease agreements, sold a 5 Series, and taken a trade-in for a used Z4. It was one of my better sales days. Now all that was left was to see if he would take the bait and come after me. I said goodbye to my coworkers and boss, making an excuse that I was going to finish up some paper work and write some thank you cards before heading home. The lights were off in the showroom and only my cubicle was lit. I waited.
I waited until 10. Doubt flooded my mind. What if he didn’t see the advertisement? What if he was in a traffic accident on the way to kill me? What if he looked me up in the phone book and was waiting at my house? There were so many variables that I couldn’t control. I just wanted it to end.
I left the office and locked the showroom doors with the electronic keypad. I turned to head for my car and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I whirled around to defend myself throwing my right arm over to head to protect myself from the blow that was surely coming. Sam, the maintenance supervisor, walked past. “That’s a funny way to say hello, Johnny. You have a good night.” He smiled in a concerned way as he headed to his car. I felt like an idiot.
I pulled out a cigarette on the way to the car. I had quit smoking after my first attack but the stress of what was happening to me had driven me back. I paused to light my Camel and was temporarily blinded by the bright flame of my lighter. When my eyes adjusted again, he was standing in front of me blocking the path to my car. I looked around but everyone had gone. We were alone.
I ran. I headed to my right toward the Honda dealership. I could hear his footsteps behind me. I crossed the street and wove between the new cars lining the lot. I jumped and slid across the hood of an Accord coupe and ran around the back of the building. I knew about an alcove where the mechanics went and smoked during their breaks. I quickly turned a corner and hid in the alcove. TPK flew past me and skidded to stop at the end of the alley. He now had to make a choice. Would he turn right of left or come back down the alley looking for me. I held my breath as I watched him from the dark alcove.
He chose to go right and that was just what I needed. I knew that he would have to follow that small street and circle back to where we were. That gave me enough time to run to my car, drive to the back of the Honda dealership and wait. That’s just what I did and in less than a minute I saw him. He must have known he had lost me because he headed down the street avoiding the streetlights. He got into an old Oldsmobile sedan and drove away. I followed him. The tables had turned.
***
I now knew that I wasn't dealing with anything supernatural or otherworldly. Ghosts and aliens don't drive cars. They fly and teleport and do all the things you read about in comic books or watch on the X-Files. This was a living, breathing human being who had turned my life into a nightmare. I wasn't afraid any more. I was ready to do whatever it took to make this bad dream come to an end. I was going to follow this madman to wherever he was driving to. I was going to confront him. And I was going to give him my eyes.
He turned west onto New Circle Road and unlike most of the cars on the road, obeyed the speed limit. He exited onto Versailles Road heading toward the airport. Was he going to try to leave town? I didn't have enough cash to buy an airplane ticket and my credit card was maxed out from the newspaper ad. There was no way I would be able to follow him if he hopped on a plane. To my relief he drove past the airport but turned on his left blinker after he passed the main entrance to Kenneland race course and cruised down the hill. He turned onto Old Versailles Road and I knew I had him. The only problem was he now knew he was being followed because traffic was sparse on this small country road. He turned left and drove deeper into the farmland that bordered Fayette and Woodford Counties. There were no street lights here and the trees lining the sides of the road blocked any light that the moon would have provided. After what seemed like hours but couldn't have been more than four of five minutes he pulled off the road onto a small property. I watched his taillights disappear behind a detached garage and thought that they might be the last taillights I ever see.
***
He stood in the middle of the room holding the blue faceless mask that had haunted my dreams in one hand and a scalpel in the other. I recognized him. He had come in for a test drive right after lunch. He had sat right next to me as we cruised around town in a silver 7 Series. I remember that he actually seemed a little nervous. I assumed it was because he was driving something out of his price range. Now here he was staring at me with a scalpel in his hand and he still looked nervous. He didn’t look threatening at all. In fact, he looked wary. I stared at the man who could have been in his late twenties or early thirties. He had sandy brown hair and stubble on his cheeks and chin. He could have been the guy who delivers your mail or tries to convince you to buy more life insurance. I this man had walked past me a hundred times I wouldn’t have remembered him. Yet somehow, this was the Freddie Kruger who had chased me both asleep and awake. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I want to this to end. You’ve ruined my life but I still want to live.” He started to shake and a look of terror passed over his face. “You win. I’m here to give you my eyes.”
“No!” he screamed, and turned to run. As he turned I saw his face change. It’s as if the water drained from his face and the skin began to sag and wrinkle. He scream changed to a wail as he disappeared out the back of the house.
I was so confused. I had made one of the most difficult and horrible decisions of my life. I had come to terms with the fact that if I wanted to live I would never be able to see again. I would be considered a freak and victim. I would never be perceived as normal or whole again. But now I was alone in an old house in the co
untry and my tormenter was gone. I should have been relieved but something felt… wrong.
I looked around the room. Trash was strewn all over the dirty floor. There was no furniture to speak of unless you counted an old wooden chair that was missing a leg tipped over in the corner of the room. But my eyes were drawn to a door on the far side of the room. There was a symbol scratched into the wood and something about it made my skin crawl. It was just wrong.
The voice in the back of my head was begging me to stop and turn around but my feet carried me to the door. I knew I shouldn’t touch the doorknob but my hand had a mind of its own. Maybe somewhere deep inside I knew that the answers to my questions lay behind that door and I would not be to go back to being a functioning member of society if I didn’t know what had happened and why I had been selected.
The door swung open and I started into a space that was unlike anything I had ever seen or imagined. The room was as clean and pristine as the outer room was dirty and unkempt. The floor and walls were dark stone and a mural depicting a host of atrocities was painted on the ceiling. In the middle of the room a waist-high dais was placed with a large, dark book resting on it. A wardrobe was built into the wall to the left and a huge board covered the wall to the right. There were no windows in the room. The only light came from the seven candles that burned on a table placed against the back wall.
I walked around the dais and stared at the cover of the book. The same grotesque symbol that was scratched on the door was embossed in gold on the cover. Under the symbol were the words: The Brotherhood of Pan. The book radiated power and evil. I didn’t believe in witchcraft or voodoo or devil worship but the feeling that I had standing over that book made me understand beyond a shadow of a doubt that evil was real and had manifest itself in physical form. This book was pure evil.
I watched the quivering hand that moved to open the front cover, not realizing that it was my own. Writing in blood on the inside cover were the words: I am the last. On the first page was a welcome that I knew was written for me because there was nothing that could stop me from turning back now. It read:
Welcome Brother.
You are embarking on a journey toward immortality. By sealing the pact with the Brotherhood of Pan you are agreeing to uphold the original agreement between Pan and the Master. The following rules will be kept:
You will conceal you identity as a member of The Brotherhood at all costs. All who know of your connection to the Brotherhood must be eliminated. Failure to do so will result in a breaking of the pact.
You will use the great board to identify the sacrifice every October 31 and will have one year to procure the lamb and take what must be taken. If sacrifice is not made within one year, the pact will be broken.
What must be taken may not be given freely or the pact will be broken.
Records must be noted in this book or the pact will be broken.
By reading this you have agreed to the pact. Immortality is yours as long as the pact is not broken.
The next page detailed the process for mixing the anticoagulant and anesthetic. It was called the kiss. The ingredients were common chemicals that could be easily obtained. The secret was how to mix them together.
I turned the page and stared at the first notation. It was in a language I didn’t recognize but I could read the date. It was 1257 and there was a name written next to it. A set of initials followed. I turned the pages fast and fast skimming through centuries of brutality and pain until I arrived at the present. There was my name written three years earlier. The initials next to it were JK. JK had been making entries in the book for over two hundred years!
I closed the book and walked over to the wardrobe. Inside were an assortment of black hooded robes. On a shelf below the robes I found six blue masks like I had seen the night by back was cut. At the bottom of the wardrobe I found cases which held scalpels and bottles of yellow liquid which must have been the kiss.
I walked over to the board. There were four columns: Comedy, Passion, Pain, and Solace. Lines were drawn to form a grid but all of the cells were blank. As I stared at the board, strange symbols began to appear and I felt myself slipping into a trance. Images of faces raced through my mind until I noticed one face begin to appear again and again. I shook myself out of the trance. Something was telling me that it wasn’t time. It wasn’t Halloween.
I collapsed to the floor. I didn’t have my life back. My life was over. I buried my face in my hands and wept. I didn’t want this, I screamed. I ran out of the room and saw the door that JK had run through and escaped. I walked into the back yard and saw that he had thrown off his robe as he fled. I kicked it in disgust. I swore as I struck something hard and heard a clacking sound. Peeling back the black material I found the bones of my tormenter. There was no blood or skin or muscle to be found. It was as if the body had dried up and the skin had turned to dust. Now I knew the pact was real. Offering my eyes to JK had broken the pact. The Master had come and taken his revenge.
Now I knew what had to happen. I knew that if I did not use the board and find the lamb I would die. But I wanted to live. In fact, immortality could be mine. That is why I made the decision to become The Peeper Keeper. That is why I killed CSI Evans. That is why on October 31st I used the board to enter the trance and found the next lamb. And that, dear reader, is how I found you. See you soon!
