Halloween 2021: Choose Your Spooky Outcome: Chapter 7
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“Whatever is coming, I like our odds a lot more in here, surrounded by traps, than out there in the halls. Let’s see this through. But maybe keep that fire extinguisher at the ready,” you suggest.
Thad lifts the red cylinder overhead, waving it once. He doesn’t bother trying to verbally respond, because the noise has grown substantially worse. It’s grating and constant, setting your teeth on edge. Victoria comes darting in from the door, motioning that whatever has been approaching is nearly here.
Behind her, the closed doors begin to bend, then buckle, as an unseen forced drives them steadily forward rather than simply turning the handle. A hinge pops, and that’s all it takes for the structural integrity to give. The doors burst-free, allowing a wave of fog to come rolling through. That horrible noise grows all the more intense, a new grinding aspect added that brings water to your eyes.
Then, all at once, the noise comes to an end. The fog is still rolling, and you can now see light within it’s depths, but the wail is gone. In it’s place, you can hear the faint hum of a motor.
“Victoria, can you do anything to clear the fog?”
“That would expose us as well,” she points out, standing only a few feet away.
“Trust me, I’ve got a hunch.”
Evidently, that’s enough for her, as Victoria leans over and smacks a nearby panel on the wall. Were she wearing a leather jacket and her target a jukebox, a song no doubt would have started playing; instead, you hear the theater’s air-conditioning roar to life.
Breezes blow down from dozens of vents spread across the vast space, pushing away the cloud of fog obscuring the intruder. As it clears, the shape of a modest vehicle can be seen, what looks like an industrial ride-on floor waxer with a half-dozen metal chairs wedged under it’s frame. Resting atop is a battery-powered fog machine still blasting out constant clouds, resting on a pair of handlebars held by a woman with a familiar splash of orange in her hair.
“Told you we’d find them eventually. Partyzilla’s height means he sees all!” Behind Pumpkin, Jim is sliding down from the floor-waxer, a half-empty punch bowl clutched tightly in his arms. How he managed to ride back there while holding onto something that huge is a secret only the fog knows, even taking a sip Jim spills a fair bit out of the bowl’s sides.
“Judging by the snares around Uncle Thad, I’m guessing you all have been dealing with weird shit too?” Pumpkin hops off the machine, pausing long enough to try and kick a few of the chairs out from the frame. At least now you know what that noise was, the chairs were dragging across the floor and walls, only stopping thanks to the wide, carpeted aisle of the theater.
Victoria fills her in. “Monster attacked Thad and several others at registration. They were unhurt physically, but showed signs of swift mental regression.”
“I believe you mean signs of being down to party,” Jim disputes. “That crowd rolled through the gym doors ready to rock. They even tried some of the culinary delights I set out, which were getting snubbed by all the boring people.”
You wince, all too capable of imagining what came next. Ingesting one of Jim’s creations is dangerous, combining it with anything else qualifies as absolutely reckless, and mixing it with some sort of existing brain-magic cannot have led to any good results.
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that I don’t think half the people even realized when something else got in,” Pumpkin recounts. “One group had decided to go for a food fight, except they were staging elaborate death monologues for each item before throwing it. Some were pretty captivating too, the lady with the shrimp-skewer had me tearing up.”
“She touched the soul of human suffering,” Jim agrees.
“Anyway, the little pest was quick and scampered out of reach. Kept me so distracted I didn’t realize how many other people were losing their sense of judgement until it was too late. Jim had grabbed the floor-waxer and fog machine from somewhere during the confusion, and he gave me a ride. Although we easily could have gone around the chairs.”
Pumpkin gives your friend a pointed glare, which Jim merely shrugs off. “I wouldn’t have gotten any bonus points if I didn’t hit the chairs. Five hundred each!”
“Oh yeah, Jim also ate a bunch of his own cooking; I think he believes he’s in a video game now. Part of why I took the handlebars.”
It’s a lot to absorb, but you’ve had to roll with much stranger. “Guess this thing wanted quantity over quality and went after the crowd.”
“Crap, sorry everyone.” Thad looks genuinely sad, as though he let you all down by not being more alluring bait.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m the one who wanted to go with a trap,” you remind him.
“We are dealing with an unknown entity, there is little blame to be had in doing our best with the information at hand, and no time to bicker about who deserves it.” Victoria strides forward, into the center of the stage, nimbly stepping between the traps like they aren’t even there. “Based on my knowledge of this school, our possibilities are limited, and none quite fit. There is a mirror in the choir room that can produce twisted duplicates of those reflected, the torched remains of a classroom that attempts to imprison any who step inside, and there was a guardian beast who lurked the halls. Except it was much larger when we fought, and akin to a giant moth in shape. Still, if you wish to see the grave I can lead you there.”
Thinking back to your earlier conversation, you quickly put the pieces together. “Senior year project, I take it?”
“I wasn’t enrolled here for the outstanding scholastics. Father pulled strings behind the scenes, pissing Mom off in the process. He knew as my connection to All Hallows Eve grew stronger, the Thornglade’s pet would sense my Willowbrook blood. Once it caught my scent in earnest, only one of us could survive. Either I would find my power, or I would never stain the family legacy.”
It’s a harsh statement, and one you don’t doubt a single bit. Having met Victoria’s father, there’s very little you’d imagine the man incapable of. “And that’s the family you were so keen to join?”
“No. That’s the family I intend to lead. Because when I am it’s head, my methods will be the ones in place, my directives obeyed. All of which comes after we make it through tonight. I know the leads were thin, but they are all I can offer. Which would you like to pursue?”
Victoria is waiting, and the screeching floor-waxer ripping the theater doors down made it clear to any creeping creatures out there exactly where you all are. Time to make a decision and get hustling.