Page missing.
Another page torn out.
More missing pages. Letti turned to the most recent entry.
The “I” trailed off, making a pen mark that went all the way down to the bottom of the page. Like someone bumped the writer. And on the bottom of the page...
Letti looked around the room, feeling goosebumps raise up on her arms. This had to be some sort of prank. A gag journal, to amuse the guests.
But Letti wasn’t amused. She was seriously weirded out.
She was getting ready to toss the journal aside and hop out of bed when a mark on the page caught her eye. A black mark.
Letti turned the page past the final entry, and saw a child’s handwriting, written in black crayon.
Letti scratched at the printing with her fingernail, getting black wax underneath. The familiar smell of crayon wafted up at her, reminding Letti of when Kelly was younger. But Kelly’s childhood printing never looked so...
Letti turned to the next page.
Letti’s head shot up. She scanned the room, listening for strange sounds, feeling like someone was indeed watching her, and at the same time knowing it was crazy to be thinking that.
Letti stared down at the journal again. She touched the top corner of the page, ready to turn it.
Letti began to close the book, and stopped.
Letti chewed her lower lip, undecided what to do next.
Letti turned the page, feeling her breath catch.
Letti sprang out of bed, backpedalling to the opposite side of the room, her eyes glued to the closet.
Letti wondered if Kelly somehow had fabricated this, had put the journal in her room. She loved scary movies.
That seemed a lot more plausible than someone named Grover hiding in the closet.
Letti set her jaw.
She marched over to the closet, grabbed the knob, and with no hesitation pulled the door open, staring up at the tall, deformed man with the bloodshot eyes and the crazy smile on his face.
“You’re pretty,” Grover said in a high voice. “Like Kelly.”
Letti froze in shock. As the scream welled up in her throat, Grover grabbed Letti around the back of the head with one huge hand and pressed a wet towel to her face with another.
Letti got over her surprise quickly, and her body went on autopilot, executing the self-defense moves Florence drilled into her head years ago. First came a fist to the throat, followed by a heel grind to the instep.
She hit fast and hard, holding her breath, waiting for him to stagger back.
Grover didn’t stagger. The punch to his neck missed his Adam’s apple, because it wasn’t where it should have been. Her hand sunk into doughy neck fat, and bounced off harmlessly. Letti’s kick was similarly ineffective. Her bare heel bounced off what seemed like steel-toed boots.
She quickly followed up with a knee to the groin, putting her weight behind it.
Her knee connected with... nothing.
Along with his other defects, Grover didn’t seem to have genitals.
Letti didn’t give up yet. Still refusing to breathe in, she cupped her hands and slapped them against Grover’s ears, trying to burst his eardrums.
This time Grover did react. He stuck his lower lip out and started to cry, the tears running down his misshapen face. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled Letti tight to his body. She continued to punch and kick, but she didn’t have any room to swing, and her blows did little damage.
Finally, no longer having a choice, Letti inhaled.
The liquid soaking the towel burned her nose and throat when she sucked it in, and for a moment Letti felt like everything was okay, that she was completely safe, and it was perfectly reasonable to fall asleep right now.
A bit of panic-fueled realization got through—
But before she could gouge them out, the darkness took her.
# # #
Mal Deiter stared into the garbage can at the severed head. He debated picking it up, showing it to Deb, but rightfully decided that wasn’t in good taste.
“What did I just eat, Mal?” Deb asked, an edge to her voice.
“It wasn’t pheasant,” Mal replied, eyeing the small beak. “It was partridge.”
“You mean like
