The Midnight Tour

“Knock it off.”

“If you’d like to just make a little detour into the employee’s restroom...”

“No thanks.”

“The next best thing to getting it from a real beast.”

She stopped, turned sideways, and shoved her face up close to the twisted snout of his mask. Seething but trying to sound calm, she whispered, “Listen to me, Clyde. I’m not interested. Okay? So just keep your damn prick to yourself, keep your mouth shut and leave me alone. Please.”

He laughed softly. It sounded strange through the mask.

“What if I don’t?” he asked, his voice smirky and taunting. “You gonna tell on me to Lynn? Think she’ll fire me? She wouldn’t dare.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Sue me for sexual harassment?”

“Maybe.”

He lifted a pale hand and clutched her left breast. Through the fabric of her shirt and bra, the points of the claws were sharp against her skin.

She bashed the hand away. “Touch me again and you’ll be sorry.” She whirled around and hurried up the hallway. It was deserted in front of her. The tour had moved on.

She heard Clyde close behind her.

With each stride of her right leg, she felt the pistol bump against her thigh.

Just forget about that, she told herself. I can’t shoot him for pawing me.

Eve probably would.

Eve!

Why isn’t she here?

Dana found the tour group inside the dark kitchen. They were gathered near the open pantry door, where Tuck stood with her flashlight. Its beam swept toward Dana and lit her.

“Thought maybe the beast had nailed you,” Tuck said.

“Nope. Everything’s fine.”

Clyde stepped through the doorway. Tuck shined the flashlight on him. “Staying out of trouble?” she asked.

He waved. The claws of his beast hand cast long, hooked shadows on the wall to his right.

“Okay,” Tuck said. “Before we descend into the cellar, let me tell you that the audio tour is loaded with lies and half-truths. It’s based very closely on the original tours given by Maggie Kutch, and Maggie had a lot to hide. You already know most of this if you’ve read Janice’s books. Have any of you not read either book?”

More than half the people in the group raised a hand.

“That’s fine. If you’re only familiar with the audio tour and haven’t read either book, then you’ve been misled about a lot of things. During the course of tonight’s tour, I’ll be telling you what really happened.

“Let’s start at the beginning—with the beast’s first foray into the house. On the night of August 2nd, 1903, it supposedly came wandering out of the hills, just happened to stumble upon this house, came in and slaughtered Ethel Hughes in the parlor. Then it ran upstairs and murdered Lilly’s kids. Lilly managed to escape by climbing out her bedroom window. That’s the way Maggie always told it. But that’s not how it happened.

“The real story begins more than two months before that bloody night in August. On the night of May 18th, Lilly went down into her cellar to bring up a jar of canned fruit—and made a startling discovery. Two of her jars were broken. A third was empty. She’d had a visitor. A hungry visitor.

“To be continued in the cellar,” Tuck said.

Dana heard a few murmurs and moans.

“Nobody’s required to come with me,” Tuck said. “If any of you think you can’t deal with the cellar, you’re welcome to wait for us here. Of course, you’ll be missing a major highlight of the tour.”

“How long will you be down there?” asked Eleanor.

“Ten minutes, maybe a little longer. Would you rather stay here?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. Would I be the only one?”

“I’m not going to miss the cellar,” Biff told her.

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Anyone else want to wait here?” Tuck asked. Nobody responded. “Looks like you’d be on your own, Eleanor.”

“I can’t stay here by myself.”

“Well, if you’d rather wait outside the house...”

“And miss the tour?”

“If you don’t want to miss the tour,” Tuck said, “you really should stick with the rest of us. It’ll be fine. The cellar might seem a little creepy, but it’s perfectly safe. We haven’t lost a tourist yet...Except for a few who stayed behind.”

Through scattered laughter, Tuck said, “I was just kidding about that. We haven’t lost anyone. You’ll be safe whether you wait here or come with us.”

“Come on, honey,” Biff said.

“Well... I guess I’ll come.”

“Bravo!” said Bixby.

“Thata girl,” said Biff.

“All right,” said Tuck. “Everybody wait here. I’ll go down and turn the light on. As soon as it’s on, you can begin coming down the stairs. Be careful, though. They’re very steep. I suggest you hold on to a railing.”

Tuck vanished into the pantry.

Dana heard whispers, a few quiet chuckles. Somebody let out a long, ghostly “Woooooooo! ”

“Childish,” said a female voice. Dana suspected Monica.

Another female voice crooned, “Here it comes, the vile beast. It wants to rape you, then to feast. And if it doesn’t like your taste, it spits you out like gory paste.”

Laughter and applause.

“Awesome ditty,” said Arnold.

“Rrrrrrrape!”

“Huh-huh.”

Dim light suddenly filled the doorway.

“All right,” Tuck called. “Come on down. But please, take it carefully.”

Though Clyde stayed close behind Dana, she tried to ignore him as she followed the tourists through the doorway, into the pantry, and down the cellar stairs.

Chapter Fifty-seven

THE CELLAR

Owen wanted to ask Vein about the poem she’d recited. Where had she found it? Had she made it up? Was there more to it?

But then the cellar light cast its glow into the pantry, Lynn called up from below, and the group started shuffling forward.

“Here we go,” Owen whispered.

Darke squeezed his hand.

Side by side, they stepped through the doorway and began to follow Vein down the stairs.

Owen felt trembly with fear and excitement.

This is it, he thought. We’re going down.

Can’t believe it.