“Okay!” he said loudly. “I’m not alone in here. The guy who left earlier wasn’t the only one who runs this thing, and—well, whoever you are, you got me. I thought this was just some lame carnival ride with nothing to back up the reputation. Obviously, I was wrong. I’m really impressed and you can count on me to spread the word and increase your reputation. You’ll have more visitors than ever. So now, if you wouldn’t mind, let me out so I can tell all of my friends.”
Todd turned in both directions as he waited for a reply. “I know you can hear me,” he said. “I told you, you win. Now show me the exit and I’ll be on my way.”
Again, nothing happened.
“Oh, I get it,” he said. “You’re holding me in here because you called the cops. Okay, I’ll admit that I sort of…broke in…but you don’t need to call the cops on me. It’s not like I broke the lock or did any damage to the place. The other guy dropped his key and I used it to get in. No harm, no foul. Besides, if you get the cops involved, I won’t tell anyone how awesome this place is. Seriously, you should really consider that because I’m a popular guy at the college. I can make sure this place is packed with people.”
After Todd’s plea for clemency from the prosecution ended, a gravelly voice filled the room. “Only want you.”
“Oh, okay, so you want to have me arrested. You don’t care about making money. I can’t say I understand, but it’s your choice. But I hope you realize that my father is an attorney and he’ll make this whole thing go away. If I were you, I’d take the publicity I can give you and just forget about bringing the cops into this. Seriously, I’m sure you don’t have an advanced education and maybe it’s difficult for you to make wise decisions. No offense, but you have to trust me on this. If you bring in the cops, you won’t get anything out of this. As a matter of fact, I’ll make things worse for you. I’ll tell my father that you kidnapped me and held me against my will. I’ll have you thrown in jail and I’ll sue you for so much that I’ll end up owning this shit hole. So I suggest you open the door and let me go or you’ll live to regret it.
“Peepers already dead, Todd.” A faint and distant image of dark shadow figure appeared in front of him. His own reflection was blocked by the silhouette of a person standing at a distance on the other side of the mirrored surface.
Todd squinted. “How did you know my name?”
Peepers didn’t respond. His body floated closer, stopping at the barrier between them. Peepers’ features grew sharp. His hand rose to touch the panel. Todd took a step back and to the side. His reflection returned as his body moved off center with Peepers.
“That’s not possible,” Todd said.
Peepers grinned and brushed his finger over the inside surface of the mirror, sending ripples through the panel.
Todd stepped back to the wall and watched as Peepers’ hand and arm preceded the rest of his body as he slipped into the three-dimensional space of the room. Temporarily withdrawing focus from his prey, Peepers held out and turned his hands out at waist level, admiring the effects of his newly enhanced powers. No longer was he transparent and ghost-like. Even in the absence of the life force held in Alan’s Peepers sculptures, the spirit’s energy grew stronger inside the labyrinth.
With Peepers self absorbed, Todd scanned the mirrored panels comprising the walls of the small circular room. Reflections of himself covered the lower two-thirds of the walls. However, the only image of Peepers was that of the solid form standing near the center, a point where every panel focused its reflective powers.
“A blind spot!” Todd blurted.
Peepers’ arms lowered, his attention returning to Todd.
“It’s a blind spot,” he said again. “The mirrors look like they are aimed at you, but each one is slightly off. That’s why I can’t see your reflections.”
Peepers took delight in Todd’s futile attempts to explain the impossible. He slid his left foot two feet out to his side. Then he slid his right foot over to meet it. In this new position Todd scanned the mirrors again; still no reflections. Peepers slid a few feet forward. Again, his image was missing from the mirrors.
“Okay, maybe it’s not a blind spot. To be honest, I really don’t care. They are great illusions. And I love your costume—very Goth—but this is getting old.” Emboldened by his own words, he stepped up to Peepers. He looked up at his face, pressed his index finger into the clown’s chest, and continued, “So, I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind. You can either conjure up a doorway out of here, and we both forget this ever happened, or I’ll have you thrown in jail for kidnapping. What’s it gonna be, pal?”
Peepers’ eyes lowered to the finger against his chest. Then they rose slowly to meet Todd’s angry stare. His grin quickly opened to a sinister smile, exposing his pointed teeth. Todd removed his finger but held his ground.
“Does Todd remember age of eight when chest was tight?”
Todd’s expression turned to confusion. “What?”
Peepers stepped away to the wall and began walking around the room.
“Breathing difficult, gasping like fish plucked from water.”
Todd turned to keep pace with Peepers as he continued circling the room.
“Oh, I get it. You saw me use my inhaler. So what, I have asthma. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.”
“Vision grow dim. Todd’s body drain of life. Brought back on way to hospital.”
“How did you know about that?”
Peepers stopped pacing and turned to face Todd.
“How could you know about that?” Todd repeated. “Who are you, and how do you even know my name?”
“I am Peepers. Peepers know everything about Todd. Todd fear that day. Fear death by suffocation.”
Peepers’ knowledge of his deepest fear was affecting Todd. The mere suggestion of his past struggles to breathe caused his throat to constrict. He pulled out his inhaler and quickly took two puffs.
Peepers enjoyed his powers of suggestion. “Is Todd remember how felt? Lungs cannot get air.”
Todd took another hit from his inhaler and demanded Peepers let him out.
Peepers closed the gap between them and leaned into his face. “Todd want fresh air outside Labyrinth?”
Concentrating on his breathing, Todd took two deep breaths and nodded.
“Very well. Peepers set Todd free.” Instantly, Peepers vanished from sight. Seconds later, the room went dark.
“I thought you said you would let me go,” Todd panted into the darkness. Peepers didn’t respond. Two flicks of the lighter restored some vision. The mirrors should have reflected the light from the flame, but something in the room changed. There were no reflections, only darkness beyond the limited power of his tiny torch. He turned in a full circle in his attempt to find a direction. Beyond the lighter in his hand, there was only darkness. He lowered the flame, and even the floor below his feet appeared to absorb the light.
The only direction he didn’t search was up, so he raised the flame above his head. At the peek of his reach, the flame abandoned its source of fuel and jumped from the lighter, where it freely glided upward until it ignited the black mesh material of the ceiling.
Flames engulfed the fabric as the raging fire rolled across the ceiling. Feeding on oxygen from below, the billowing cloud of smoke expanded downward. Todd dropped to the floor, desperately sucking the thin layer of unpolluted air as the lung-crushing smoke swelled closer.
As he lay on his side with his shirt covering his mouth as a smoke filter, clown-shoed feet stepped up in front of his face. Peepers had returned but Todd couldn’t see past the waist-level smoke to his face. The figure bent down, dragging smoke with him. The smoke dissipated, revealing Peepers smiling down at him. Peepers continued lowering himself to Todd’s level until he was lying on his side beside him. His elbow was out with his head resting on his hand.
“Peepers free Todd now.”
Todd didn’t understand. With his mou
th and nose covered by his shirt, he muttered, “Please help me.”
Peepers nodded. He looked up to the layer of thick smoke above them and began to inhale. A vortex formed between his mouth and the smoke, sucking every last bit of it into his lungs. With the threat of smoke asphyxiation gone, Peepers looked back at Todd. Todd lowered his shirt from his face and took a deep breath of clean air.
“Thank you,” Todd said as he breathed in as much air as possible.
“You are welcome, Todd,” Peepers replied. As he spoke, some of the smoke was released into Todd’s face. Todd coughed and took another hit from his inhaler.
“Don’t fight, Todd,” Peepers said. Again, his words carried the concentrated smoke. Wheezing sounds accompanied Todd’s coughs. His face turned red as he gasped for clean air.
“Peepers set Todd free.” The smoke continued to flow into Todd’s face as the clown spoke.
Choking and unable to speak, Todd raised his hand in defeat and tried to crawl away.
Peepers slowly exhaled the deadly cloud in the direction of Todd’s movement. It swarmed around, his listless body barely moving around the edge of the room without direction until he collapsed. He lay curled up, suffocating on Peepers’ toxic breath. Peepers continued to exhale as he returned to his feet. The dense cloud swallowed the boy and followed him as he desperately crawled in search of relief.
With the condensed smoke fully exhaled in a tight bubble around Todd’s body, Peepers closed his eyes and luxuriated in the thumping sound of Todd’s body collapsing to the floor, followed by a faint, fading whistle as his final breath squeezed from his constricted airways.
The smoke released its hold on the body and swirled around Peepers. Peepers opened his eyes and flung his arms up, sending the swirling mass to the roof.
*****
Sitting with their backs to the fence behind the Haunted Labyrinth of Mirrors, Todd’s friends waited.
“What’s taking him so long?” As soon as the words left his mouth, the pair simultaneously jumped to their feet at the sight of smoke pumping from gaps in the building’s roof and around the edges of the rear door.
Chapter 18
To: Lyle
Those were the only markings on the cardboard box gently placed on the floor outside Lyle’s apartment. Alan stood and faced the door. He reached out and braced his fingers on the wall surrounding the doorbell. His body turned away from the door with his left knee slightly bent and his foot firmly planted and aimed toward the stairwell. Positioned for a rapid departure he took one last glance at the box below before looking back to the button on the wall. His index finger slid over the button and his head turned to match the direction of the rest of his body. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. His trigger finger pressed the button, which acted like a shot from the starting pistol in a one-man sprint to his car.
The door flung open before Alan left the lower section of stairs. Lyle first noticed the package, but he was more interested in discovering the identity of the person who delivered it. He jumped over the box and darted to the stairwell and leaned over to see if the mystery person was still in sight. Nobody. His curiosity intensified and he turned back toward his apartment and leapt over the box in a dash to his front balcony. Leaning over the railing, he quickly scanned the area for movement. First he looked to the left. All was quiet. Next he turned to the right—not a soul in sight. He turned for a second look to the left when the sound of a car’s engine returned his focus to the right. Alan’s car backed up and drove off. Mystery solved.
Lyle returned to his still open door and looked down at the package. “There better not be shit inside,” he mumbled. He picked up the package and gave it a rugged shake before holding it to his ear. He held the seam of the taped lid to his nose and attempted to detect the presence of crap inside.
His shake, sound, and smell tests all failed to reveal the contents. With no other options and a deepening curiosity, he took the box inside and closed the door. He pulled his keys from his pocket and used one to snap the clear tape at the sides. Then he ran the key across the top, splitting the tape. Before opening the box, he took it to the couch and sat it beside him. With the box firmly supported, he used each hand to lift the outside flaps open. He gave the package a quarter turn and lifted the inside flaps. He peeled away the top layer of packing, revealing the Spanky figure comfortably positioned atop a mattress of protective crumpled papers.
“What the hell is this?” He reached in and pulled the figure out for closer examination. He turned it around in his hands to view it from all angles. Lyle didn’t know what to make of the creepy clown gift from Alan. All he knew was that he didn’t like it and he didn’t want it, or anything else, from Alan.
He shoved the figure and packing paper back in the box and stormed for his door. Behind him stood the life-size Spanky. Unaware of his new guest peering over his shoulder, Lyle jerked open his door and took three steps before carelessly throwing the package at Alan’s apartment door.
The box sprung open, sending the Spanky figure crashing to the floor. The resulting shock from the unprotected impact with the concrete surface snapped its left leg in half. Satisfied with his return message to Alan, he returned to his apartment and slammed the door behind him.
Still steaming from Alan’s confusing offering, Lyle plopped himself on his couch and stewed for a few seconds before lifting the remote and aiming it toward the TV. Before pressing the button, he heard a rustling sound from his bathroom area. He returned the remote and stood from the couch.
“Who’s there?” he called out. Then he heard the clinging sound of a belt buckle. Lyle rushed to his coat closet and grabbed a baseball bat. He raised it and called out again, “Who’s in there?”
“My name is Spanky,” came a reply from the bathroom.
Lyle rushed across the room to the kitchen. With the baseball bat in one hand, he reached for his phone. “I’m calling the cops,” he yelled out.
As his eyes locked on the doorway to the hall, a large figure hopped into view. Stunned, Lyle’s eyes widened. His hand opened and the phone dropped to the floor.
“I represent the Guild of Fallen Clowns. On this day, your life will change.” Spanky stood on one leg. One of Lyle’s belts acted as a tourniquet, tightly wrapping the stub of his left half leg.
“You did a bad thing, Lyle.”
*****
Dressed as Boogy the Clown, Alan arrived at the carnival an hour before opening. The coincidental passing of Mrs. Henderson on the night he delivered Peepers’ figure was unnerving. Even after witnessing the success Spanky had on Dave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Peepers might know something about her death. He wanted to know if Peepers could have done something to save her.
His concentration on the meeting with Peepers was so deep that he didn’t notice the yellow police tape stretched across the entrance of the Haunted Labyrinth of Mirrors. It wasn’t until he got to the entrance path that he was stopped by the thin ribbon blockade. He wondered if the crime scene tape was some sort of new decoration used to increase visitors’ interest in the labyrinth. If so, why was it blocking the entrance? Guests wouldn’t be able to pass. Geno should have tied it off at the sides of the walkway.
As he tried to understand the logic of using crime scene tape on a haunted attraction, he heard the unmistakable sound of Cracky’s hacking cough from the right side of the building. Alan walked over to see who he was talking to. He was talking to a police officer. More specifically, Cracky was talking with his brother, Dale. Suddenly, he realized the yellow tape wasn’t added as an ill-conceived decorative element.
As he walked toward Cracky and Dale, The Ringmaster leaned out from a slit in the side of his tent. “They won’t need a clown anymore.” The flap closed and Alan continued walking. Cracky and Dale stopped talking when they noticed Alan approaching.
“Hey, Cracky—Dale, what’s going on?”
“You guys know each other?” Cracky said.
“Yes,
Alan’s my big brother,” Dale said.
“Alan? Oh, you mean Boogy. You boys are brothers?” Cracky looked back and forth between them, looking for some sort of resemblance.
“Yes, Officer Dale is my brother. What’s with the crime scene tape?”
“Some kid died in there last night,” Dale said.
Cracky jumped in to set the record straight. “It wadn’t murder or nothin’ like dat, Boogy. Some frat boys snuck in last night and one of dem broke into da labyrinth and started a fire.”
“Right,” Dale added. “The kid had breathing problems and the smoke overtook him before he could get out.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful!”
“Yes it is, Boog. It’s awful, but the kid shouldn’t have tried ta burn da place down. We’re lucky da fire didn’t spread and hurt more people,” Cracky said.
“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions here,” Dale said. “His friends said he used the lighter to light his way. We don’t know if his intent was to burn the place down.”
“Maybe so, but he shouldn’t have been in dare in da first place. I know kids at dat age do stupid things, but I wish he woulda used a flashlight. If he did, he’d still be alive and we wouldn’t be standing here talking.”
“You’re right about that,” Dale said. “Alan, do you remember that time when we were playing with matches in the field near our house?”
“How can I forget? It was the middle of a drought and the grasses were all dried out.”
“That’s right! I can’t believe we were that stupid. The circle of fire almost got away from us. It kept growing in size and we frantically ran around stomping it out.”
“I still have nightmares about that,” Alan said.
Cracky started laughing hysterically at the image. Dale and Alan shared a confused glance. They couldn’t understand what was so humorous about their story.
“What’s so funny?” Alan said.