Murder of a Royal Pain

That couldn’t be right. That was the area where she was supposed to appear and disappear, and given that she was the last of the three witches, it was near the end of the circuit. The only person who should be in that section was herself.

Instantly she stiffened. Could the shrieks be coming from the spirit of the woman with the long black hair? No. These screams sounded all too human. Her pulse beat erratically as she approached the door that led to her designated passageway.

Skye put her hand on the knob, trying to get up the courage to turn it, but before she could make herself twist the cold metal sphere, she heard the tippy-tapping of high-heeled shoes—a sound that could very well be the footsteps of an opera star’s ghost. She choked back a cry. Were they coming from behind the door or behind her? A chill raced up her spine. She couldn’t tell.

She jerked her hand away from the knob, twisted, and plastered her back to the wall. Should she hide, try to get out, face her fears, or all of the above? She had to do something.

A loud moan made her jump, rousing her from her indecision. It was better to take positive action and gain the advantage of surprise than to stand there and wait for whatever or whomever to come get her.

Skye reached into her backpack and withdrew both the stun gun and the bottle of holy water, figuring it was best to be prepared for the natural as well as the supernatural. For easy access, she tucked the vial into her cleavage, and transferred the Taser to her right hand.

Once armed, she turned the knob, opened the door a crack, and peered around the corner. At first she couldn’t see anything in the darkness. She groped for the flashlight she had stuck in her belt, but it dropped to the floor.

Carefully she squatted to retrieve it, blindly patting the linoleum until her fingers touched the cold metal. Grasping the cylindrical base, she felt for the switch and thumbed it to the ON position. Nothing. She shook it and it came on briefly, only to sputter out. She tried again, hitting it against her thigh, and this time it didn’t even flicker.

Shit! That would teach her to buy cheap stuff at the dollar store. If she got out of here alive, she was putting a police-quality Maglite on her birthday wish list, and she was buying Energizer batteries, not the low-priced generic ones she usually opted for. The bunny would never let her down.

Unhappily, that didn’t help her now. But on the upside, while she had been trying to figure out what to do next, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. The narrow area between the hall entrance and the door in the false wall was empty. Maybe the screaming hadn’t come from there after all. Yes, that must be it. She could still hear faint whimpers but they came from a little farther away, beyond the next partition.

Skye told herself she had to put on her big-girl panties and do what had to be done. Still, as she slipped inside the small space, she left the outer door open for a quick getaway.

She could no longer hear the footsteps or moans. Had the ghost moved on to scare someone else? Or maybe the whole thing had been a part of the haunted-house act of which Skye wasn’t aware. With that optimistic thought, she noticed that the door located in the false wall was ajar. She placed her palm against it, but before she could push, a hand wrapped around the edge. Without thinking she yanked the door shut.

A wail of pain rang through the cheap plywood.

Great. She had just pissed off a ghost. No, wait a minute; a ghost wouldn’t have felt anything. Gripping her stun gun, she flung open the door. As she burst into the passageway, her head slammed into something solid and unyielding. Her vision blurred and she crumpled to the floor.

For an instant everything went black and she couldn’t move. What had happened? Damn! Someone must have hit her. Was he or she standing over her right now, ready to plunge a knife through her heart?

Skye’s eyelids flew open. She could dimly make out a sprawled body in front of her, and she realized what had happened. They both must have tried to go through the door at the same time and hit their heads. As Skye’s vision cleared, she could see that the other person was dressed in a long, cobwebby black gown, wearing stark white makeup and fangs. Who was playing Countess Dracula? Skye searched her memory, but came up blank.

The woman sat up slowly, reached for the flashlight that had rolled a few inches from her hand, and flicked it on. She stared at Skye. Fear, stark and vivid, glittered in the woman’s eyes, and her mouth formed a large circle. Screaming, she struggled to her feet and, keeping her gaze on Skye, backed through the door, then turned and ran.

Clearly Skye wasn’t the only one spooked by the haunted house. She eased to her feet, her head still swimming. Why had the countess run away like that?