LITMIR.BIZ

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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!

      Suzie hopped on a chair and grabbed a serving platter for defense.

      The master of the house turned toward them, dropping the body of the girl whose throat he had slit. It fell with a flat thud.

      Sean squeaked out a sound that was nearly a scream.

      Hannah grabbed Sean, thrusting him between her and the big man with the massive knife.

      “Back up, back up, back up!” Tyler said.

      Hannah did so. Sean turned to flee.

      The master of the house went for Sean. He picked him up by the neck.

      “No! Stop, stop it!” Tyler shouted.

      This couldn’t be happening.

      “This isn’t funny. It isn’t right!”

      The character didn’t seem to hear Tyler. And Tyler had no choice. He leaped forward, shoving Hannah away, and tried to wrest Sean from the killer. He grabbed Sean’s arm and pulled.

      “No!” Suzie shrieked.

      Tyler looked up.

      The master of the house was approaching her with the massive knife, dragging Sean along with him. Then he turned. He came swinging toward Tyler, still dragging Sean. Tyler held on to his friend and jerked hard; Sean came free and they staggered back—Hannah, Sean and himself—until they crashed into the table.

      Hannah began shrieking in earnest. As she did so, Tyler became aware of the tinny scent of blood.

      Real blood.

      And he looked around the table and he knew.

      They were people. Real people. And they were dead.

      Really dead.

      “No!” Suzie shrieked.

      She slammed her serving platter at the master of the house.

      He just laughed.

      And raised his carving knife.

      * * *

      DAVEY RACED ACROSS the porch, pushing aside the bleeding maid and hopping over the body of the man in the Edwardian dress.

      Sarah had no choice but to follow.

      He burst through into a mudroom. There were bloody handprints all over it.

      Some were fake—stage blood.

      Some were real—human blood.

      She could tell by the smell that some of the blood was real.

      Davey rushed through to the foyer, his Martian Gamma Sword leading the way. But there was no one there. He threw open another door.

      “Davey, stop! Please, Davey, something is going wrong. Something is...”

      They were in a music room; it was empty—other than for a bloody body stretched across a floral sofa.

      “Davey!” Sarah shrieked. “No, no, please...”

      She started to whirl around. There were holograms everywhere. A child in black with a headless doll appeared. And then a hanged man, the noose still around his neck. All kinds of ghouls and creatures and evil beings began to appear in the room and then disappear.

      “Davey, please, we’ve got to get out. Davey!”

      She gripped his arm as the terrifying images swirled around them.

      “Not real,” Davey said. “Sarah, they’re not real.”

      He was moving on—and she heard screams again. Terrified screams...

      He went through a black hazy curtain and they were

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