She hurried after him.
“They don’t like this kind of light, you know.”
“Who doesn’t like it?”
“Those who are evil!” he said seriously.
He had his sword ready and held in front of him—he was prepared, he was on guard!
Sarah smiled, keeping behind him. She hoped he didn’t bat an actor over the head with the damned thing.
* * *
TYLER DIDN’T KNOW when it changed.
The haunted house was incredible, of course. He knew the decorations and fabrications, motion-activated creatures and the costumes for the live actors had been created by some of the finest designers in the movie world.
The foyer had the necessary spiderwebs dangling from the chandelier and hanging about. As they were ushered in—the door shut behind them by the French maid—a butler appeared. He was skinny, tiny and a hunchback. Igor? He spoke with a deep voice that was absolutely chilling.
Tyler had to remind himself he was six-three and two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle. But just the guy’s voice was creepy as hell.
“Cemetery Mansion!” the butler boomed out. “The living are always ever so careless of the dead! Housing is needed...and cemeteries are ignored. And so it was when the Stuart family came to Crow Corners. They saw the gravestones...they even knew the chapel housed the dead and that a crypt led far beneath the ground. And still! They tossed aside the gravestones, and they built their mansion. Little did they know they would pay for their total disregard. Oh, Lord, they would pay! They would be allowed to stay—forever! Forever and ever...with those who resided here already!”
Suddenly, from thin air, haunts and ghouls seemed to arise and sweep through the room. Suzie let out a squeal. Even Hannah shrieked.
Good old Sean let out a startled scream and then began to laugh at himself.
It was done with projectors, Tyler realized.
“To your left, ladies and gentlemen, to your left! The music room, and then the dining room!”
They were urged to move on. The music room hosted a piano and rich Victorian furniture. There was also a child sitting on the sofa, holding a teddy bear. She turned to look at them with soulless eyes—and then she disappeared. A figure was hunched over the piano. Suzie tried to walk by it; the piano player suddenly stood, reaching out for her.
She screamed. The thing was a motion-activated figure, one who would have done any haunted mansion proud. It was a tall butler—blond and grim-looking, with a striking face made up so that the cheeks were entirely hollow. It spoke with a mechanical voice. “Come closer, come closer... I can love you into eternity!”
It was nothing but a prop, an automaton. But it was real as all hell.
Suzie ran on into the next room.
The dining room...
At the head of the table was a very tall man—an actor portraying the long-dead head of the household; a man in a Victorian-era suit, wearing tons of makeup that had been applied very effectively. He was sharpening a knife.
There were dummies or mannequins or maybe animatronics slumped around the table. At least their bodies were slumped there. Their heads were on it. Blood streamed from their necks and down their costumes.
“One of them is going to hop up, I know,” Hannah murmured.
She bravely stepped closer to the table. No one moved.
Tyler noticed there was a girl about their age at the end of the table. She was wearing one of this year’s passes to Haunted Hysteria around the stump of her neck.
Good touch, he thought.
The bodies around the table did not move. The master of the house watched them with bloodshot eyes. He sharpened his knife.
A girl suddenly burst into the dining room from the music room. “Run! Get out—get to the exit! He’s in the house somewhere!” she screamed.
“Yes, he is. He’s right here,” the master of the house said. He reached for her and dragged her to him. She screamed again, trying to wrench herself free. He smiled.
He took one of the knives he had been sharpening.
And he slit her throat.
* * *
SARAH DIDN’T KNOW what had gotten into Davey; he was usually the most polite person in the world. He’d been taught the importance of please and thank you.
But he was almost pushing.
And he knew their radio station tickets gave them VIP status.
Light sword held before him, he made his way to one of the actors herding the line. “VIP, please!” he told her.
“Uh, sure. Watch out for that thing!” She started to lead them up the line, toward the house. As she did so, there was a scream, and one of the actors came bursting out the front door.
She was dressed as a French maid—a vampire or zombie French maid, Sarah thought.
She stumbled out of the entry and onto the porch, grabbing for one of the columns. Blood was dripping down her arms and over her shirt—she appeared to have a number of stab wounds.
“Don’t!” she shouted. “Don’t... He’s a killer!”
Applause broke out in the line. But then someone else burst out of the house—a ghoul dressed in an Edwardian jacket.
He crashed down, a pool of blood forming right on the porch.
More applause broke out.
“No, no, that’s not supposed to happen,” the zombie leading Sarah up the line murmured.
Davey burst by her; he was headed to the house, his light saber before him.
“Davey!” Sarah shrieked. Something was wrong; something was truly wrong. They needed to stay out, needed to find out if this was an excellent piece of play-acting or...
Or what?
Imaginary creatures came to life and started killing people? Actors went crazy en masse and started knifing the populace? Whatever was going on, it seemed insane!
The sensation that crawled over Sarah then was nothing short of absolute terror—but Davey was ahead of her.
With his Martian Gamma Sword.
He was charging toward the house.
Davey! She had to follow him, stop him and get him away—no matter what!
* * *
TYLER COULD HEAR nothing but diabolical laughter.
And screaming—terrified shrieks!
