Mischief Night Page 3

  "Hey, this place is pretty neat. Except for that whirl ride, or whatever you call it -- makes me dizzy."

  Rusty agreed. "Once, Nikki Rivers went on it five times in a row, and got sick. His face was so green he looked like a frog."

  The boys laughed, walking towards the huge bonfire in the middle of the park. Dozens of children huddled around it, all drawn to the warmth and allure of the massive kindling. Rusty stared into the glare, looking at the charred cinders. Within the blaze his vision grew distorted, and he imagined a pair of wicked, yellow eyes. He shuddered at the thought.

  Tommy noticed his discomfort, nodding. "I know what you're thinking. I just can't seem to get it out of my head either."

  "One year ago. Can you believe it? I still have nightmares."

  "Me too. It's not the same anymore. Like I grew up somehow, and everything looks different now. You know what I mean?" Tommy rubbed his hands before the greedy flames, enjoying the heat.

  Rusty did the same, but he still felt cold inside. "I do. We saw what evil looks like, and it has a name, a face. My dad says evil is all around us, constantly battling good." He paused. "Hey, we're going to have fun tonight. Let's not mention that anymore, okay?"

  "You're right. It's over with. Let's go wait in line. Get your ticket ready."

  They stomped off, watching a boy throw softballs at a milk can, trying to get one to remain inside the metal container.

  "That's impossible to do. What a rip-off," said Tommy. "Tried it at the summer fair. Couldn't even get one to stay, and spent a lousy two bucks."

  They hurried ahead, moving swiftly past an assortment of amusements, rides, and game stands, until they reached a long double rope, where several other youths eagerly awaited the coming hay ride. An engine churned in the distance, and a tractor lumbered into view, hauling a square flatbed behind it. A dark-haired teenager wearing gothic jewelry held the excited children at bay, feeding off his authority as ticket taker and hay ride receptionist.

  "Back, you guys," he drawled. "Don't move past the ropes, or you'll get run over."

  The tractor heaved forward, stopping several yards to their right. A burly man, with gray beard and denim hat, waved to the teenager, grabbing a coffee mug and drinking deeply. The line moved forward, and the kids piled in after turning over their tickets.

  "Last group tonight." The teenager took his ticket, and Rusty braced both hands on a makeshift ladder, leaping forward onto a layer of hay. The trailer held less than a dozen kids, mostly boys, with two adults sitting in the far corner, trying to humor their pony-tailed daughter, who looked rather miserable.

  "Everybody in?" The driver called back, shifting the tractor into motion. The trailer lurched to the side, and Tommy giggled with delight. "Is this thing going to tip over?"

  The tractor heaved into the maw of darkness, shortly heading into a cemetery filled with loose rocks and handmade grave markers. Oil lanterns jutted from the ground in several locations, the greasy smoke curdling upwards, the smell acrid and strong. A ghoul lumbered forward, arms outstretched, moaning as it walked up to the trailer, which now slowed down. The children on that side cowered backwards, eyeing the actor suspiciously. The girl screamed.

  Rusty and Tommy watched from the far side, peering around for any other lurking actors.

  The ghoul clicked its hands together, pretending to grab for the closest child, a husky boy wearing a battered, red flannel shirt. The youth made a hex sign with his hands, and the ghoul growled.

  Rusty gasped in surprise as something touched him from behind. He snapped his head around as another actor pawed at his hair. Tommy and several others cried out, all of them leaning away from the trailer's edge.

  "They always do that!" Rusty grinned, still wary of the ghoul, its face covered in a horrible rubber mask, painted with huge scars and splotches of blood, garish and fluorescent. "Wild costume."

  Tommy nodded, still keeping his distance.

  Rusty looked past the actor to a small fire burning between a pair of grave stones. His heart dropped when he saw something moving within the shadows, and he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a pointed hat. It quickly disappeared.

  "Did you see that?" Rusty grabbed Tommy's shirt sleeve, pointing into the darkness.

  "What?"

  "That figure, next to the fire?"

  "No, what was it?"

  "I don't really know. It looked strange, almost like…" Rusty hesitated, his voice trailing off thoughtfully, and his companion shrugged.

  The tractor chugged ahead, and the ghouls slowly followed, some of the boys jeering at their failed attempts to reach them. Eerie howls echoed from a distant speaker from somewhere across the shrouded field, which was quickly giving way to an area of mixed trees and strangled bushes. The dirt trail was bumpy, and they were jostled rudely about. Rusty was silent, wondering as to what he'd seen.

  They passed beneath tall trees now, with an assortment of horrors jumping out from cover, hooting and hollering as they tried to scare the riders. A witch cackled to their left, sitting on a fallen log, a black cauldron sprawled before her, steam curling over the rim.

  "Double double, boil and trouble!" She croaked, laughing like a lunatic.

  "Dry ice, it's a neat effect," remarked Tommy. "Can't touch the ice with your skin though, it'll burn you like it was hot."

  "Hmm." Rusty was quiet, watching the witch as she held up her hands. The tractor halted, and the giggles surrounding them turned to gasps now, as a huge figure lumbered out from behind a massive oak tree. It looked part skeleton, part demon, standing nearly ten feet tall, towering over the trailer and its frightened occupants. A booming voice blared forth from its chest, and the figure strode towards them, placing clawed limbs upon the edge.

  "Fake or not, that's one scary costume." Tommy's mouth opened in awe.

  The monster gazed at the group, its horrible mask alarming the more squeamish, and even the two adults looked nervous, their daughter hiding her head beneath the folds of their jackets. The actor stuck its neck forward, the eyes sockets smoldering with a crimson fire.

  Like cinders, thought Rusty...

  Without warning, the hideous face stared directly at the two boys, and Rusty inhaled sharply.

  "Your turn is coming."

  A wicked finger reached towards Rusty, and he scrambled backwards, away from the nightmarish figure. The entire group seemed to feel it was too real, moving as far as possible from the actor. The tractor revved its engine, and they were thrown forward, just as the monster grabbed for them. Rusty watched in horror as the thing remained standing, glaring after them.

  "Did you hear that?" Rusty squeezed his friend's arm. "That's what Jimmy said to me last year. They were coming for me. Berger!"

  Tommy sat there in silence, gazing behind them. "I don't know, Rusty. It's just part of the act, that's all. Every scary movie I've ever seen says it at least once. The monsters are always coming to get you."

  "But he pointed at us -- at me."

  "I was scared too. Like I said, it's all part of the ride. Next time, they'll point at someone else. You watch."

  Unconvinced, Rusty brooded there, thinking now that the hay ride had been a bad idea. His mom was supposed to pick them up, waiting for them at the entrance to the park. It wouldn't be too soon for him. Strange things were happening. His imagination? He wasn't so sure...The spider had definitely not been in his mind. Rusty looked around, wondering what other sinister figures would be the next to jump out and surprise him. It was not a pleasant thought, and he pulled his jacket tight, wishing for his home and own warm bed.

  He didn't like Halloween anymore, and this year's attempt to embrace the fun of it wasn't working out too well.

  The tractor plodded along, twisting around curves and small buildings. A maniac burst from a crooked doorway holding a chain saw in his grip. He buzzed the far side of the flatbed, eliciting screams of terror from the children. Another actor yelped from a concealing clump of brush, wearing an ugly pig mask, ho
lding an ax. Mayhem ensued for several long moments before the tractor left the chaos behind.

  Tommy looked at the gruesome characters, a sly grin on his face, but Rusty was apprehensive, unwilling to let his guard down. The air was growing colder, and the wind slapped mischievously at them, whispering in their ear of winter to come. October was almost gone, Rusty thought with relief. At one time it had been his favorite month. No longer.

  A large structure loomed ahead now, an old barn. The tractor paused, and a door opened, pushed outwards. They rumbled inside, the interior murky with flickering candles from dozens of jack-o'-lanterns, their misshapen forms tumbled lazily in scattered rows along wooden plank boards.

  Overhead, the rafters were choked with strands of spray can webbing, and a huge mechanical spider hovered there menacingly, its eyes blinking red, leering down at them. Several children looked up, pointing, mumbling words of excitement and humor, others uneasy at the lurid sight. A ladder was propped against the left wall, a flat platform erected above it. A strobe light flashed on, and the barn was cast in eerie lighting, like a macabre disco hall. Rusty frowned, not liking the close confines, wondering as to what terrors would be revealed next. He didn't have long to wait...

  A massive skeleton clambered into view, tall and thin, its arms flailing wildly in the air. Screams rang out from the most squeamish of the group, and the two boys looked fearfully at the outrageous thing. Suddenly, another figure appeared on the wooden landing, much smaller but no less diabolical.

  It looked like a little man, wearing a black and red robe, a small pointed hat on its head. The face looked like a diseased apple, rotten and bruised. A long nose lay above a fanged mouth. Yellow, spiteful, unforgiving eyes bored into their very hearts, shattering hope and melting courage. It was a dwarf. Tommy hissed, and Rusty's blood ran cold. The dwarf!

  Berger's dwarf!

  The boys were shocked, unable to speak. The appearance of the malevolent being struck them like a physical blow. Their old enemy, returning again to threaten them, choosing to reveal itself openly. An evil smirk creased its face, and it rubbed cruel hands together, a gurgling noise coming from its throat.

  They're coming after you!

  The song played madly in Rusty's head, and he felt the wings of nightmare and madness closing in swiftly to claim him. There could be no doubt as to the horrid creature's purpose -- it was Halloween, one year since their last encounter, and it was after them again...

  Rusty pushed his companion back towards the rear of the trailer. "We have to run! If we wait it will have us."

  They heard a shout from the driver, who now stood, staring at the hideous little figure. The dwarf gestured with its hands, muttering in some unintelligible language. The driver's face transformed from an expression of bewilderment to one of glassy indifference -- like that, he was under the creature's spell.

  "Let's go!" Rusty leaped from the trailer, Tommy on his heels. They stumbled ahead, pushing at the latch which held the door in place. Some of the children shouted to the pair, confused and becoming scared. The barn was filled with cries and gasps, and the driver turned towards the retreating boys, shuffling forward. Things were happening quickly, and the two adults tried to calm the children. Rusty managed to open the door, and he ushered his friend through, slamming it shut behind them. They stared at each other in the darkness, the same unspoken thought scorching their minds...

  They had to find their way back to the park through the field, knowing the dwarf would be after them. What other dangers waited in the shadows?

  They hurried away into the inky blackness.

  ~ * ~

  Minutes passed in a blur, the two boys fearfully retreating along the trail.

  Rusty had seen his darkest nightmares materialize when the dwarf had appeared on the platform. The dwarf! One year later, and the creature was again hunting him. For what purpose? Revenge against the two boys who had eluded them? It seemed the only possible explanation. But was it alone, or was its master close by? The notion of old man Berger lurking somewhere around the theme park was a horrible one.

  Rusty listened to Tommy's labored breathing beside him, loud in his ears. The trees and bushes were dark, unfriendly. Any place could be a haven for their enemy...He paused, tapping his friend's shoulder. "Tommy, slow down for a second. We need to think about this."

  "That dwarf is after us, what more do you need to think about?" Tommy looked behind them, eager to continue.

  "Do we want to chance the trail? The dwarf might have gotten to some of the actors. Remember that big demon-thing? I sure don't want to meet up with that out here."

  "Yeah, you might be right. Cut through the trees?" Tommy gestured to their right, where a scattering of mixed hardwoods loomed menacingly.

  Rusty didn't like the look of the area, but they had few options. "All right, it leads towards the park at least. And away from those creeps. Let's go."

  They left the trail, the forest illuminated by the moon, which had escaped the persistent cloud cover, and now hung ominously overhead. An owl hooted from somewhere nearby, and Rusty shivered. They passed through scattered bushes, poked mercilessly by sharp stickers, one branch cutting into Rusty's arm and ripping his jacket sleeve. Ignoring the nasty brush, his only thought was to keep up with Tommy, who was gradually pulling ahead of him. Not wanting to shout, he was determined to increase his own pace, knowing that Tommy had always been much faster than himself, training for the school track team.

  Rusty grew worried when Tommy soon disappeared from view. At first, he gave a short whistle, but lacked the air to project properly. He paused for a moment, hating to break the silence, but daring to anyway. "Tommy," he called. His voice sounded frighteningly loud, and he tried two more times.

  Silence.

  Not wishing to widen the distance between them, he hurried forward, his foot catching on a thick root, and he tumbled headlong onto the rough earth. The wind was knocked from his chest and he lay there, gasping on the cold ground. Disoriented, it was several seconds before he regained his footing, bruised and increasingly alarmed at his situation. He gazed around the woods, trying to remember any marker, but everything looked the same. Shadows surrounded him, threatening to swallow him if he made the wrong move. He was alone against the forces of darkness.

  He felt ready to cry, realizing that he had become separated from his friend. How could he have lost Tommy so quickly?

  Rusty started in the direction in which he thought his friend had gone, pushing back the thready vines that dangled from the mossy trunks. They whipped and tugged at him as he rushed by, and he felt like the entire forest was watching, trying to thwart his passage. He didn't know how much more he could take; he was ready to collapse on the ground. Fear of being caught kept him going though, and he urged his cramped legs onward.

  Without warning, he broke through a high clump of bushes and found himself staring at the park. He had made it...Excited and relieved, Rusty surged ahead, coming out behind the small carousel, the painted horses bobbing and weaving before his weary eyes. Mesmerized by the churning machinery, he stumbled forward, staring as a figure plummeted towards him on a silver horse.

  It was a woman, and he noticed that she was the only one riding. Looking around, he also realized there were no other people in sight, although most of the vendor and amusement stands were still lighted. The woman came closer, and he recognized her.

  It was his mom.

  Riding the carousel? Cold terror swept across him -- he knew immediately that something was dreadfully wrong here. His mother never went on rides.

  She drew near, and the carousel slowed down. Her lips moved, and she was speaking to him. Fascinated and terrified in the same breath, Rusty staggered towards her and she smiled, the whites of her teeth showing. She spoke to him, and he listened with straining ears.

  "Mr. Berger wants to see you, Rusty."

  Rusty staggered as if struck a blow. The gears moaned as the carousel swept past him, his mother vanishing, an
d another figure appeared, riding a small pony. It was the dwarf.

  The boy scrambled backwards, devastated and frightened. They'd gotten to his mom now, and he had nowhere else to turn. The dwarf spat at him, its hands gesturing, but he snapped his head away, knowing the consequence of letting the horrible creature work its magic on him. Rusty rushed forward, heading for the center of the park, looking desperately around for help. The place seemed deserted, and he knew the hour was getting late, but there still should be someone left.

  Unless they were all under the sway of his enemies...He shuddered, tears forming at his eyes. His mother had been taken. His mother!

  Rusty was in a world of shadows and nightmares. Everything he knew had been warped, and he felt the claws of evil closing in rapidly. He glanced back, but the carousel was out of sight. Tommy had been lost in the woods, his mother hypnotized, and his father was unreachable.

  A building loomed before him, and his only thought was to place a door between himself and the diabolical pursuers. Exhausted, he couldn't run anymore.

  Bounding up the wooden steps, he saw that the small building was the information center. With any luck there would a phone inside. He pulled the storm door, sighing immensely as he found it unlocked. Rusty burst through, slamming it closed behind him, clicking the bolt into place. He ran to the single window, fastening that lock. He then scanned the interior -- several cushioned chairs, a file cabinet, a small brown desk with a swivel seat, and a shaded lamp giving off adequate light. And…a phone laying on top of the desk.

  He hurried over, snatching the receiver and pounding an emergency number, but his heart dropped as he heard no tone. The phone line was dead. Everything seemed to be stacked against him.

  Rusty slumped into the chair, thinking of his next move, but froze as a soft 'click' sounded behind him. There was only one door, and the single window. Both were secure. His eyes narrowed as he then noticed a small closet, the door slowly moving outwards. Rusty braced himself, his heart pounding wildly as a small, familiar figure stepped forward.

  The dwarf...