Author's Note: Tomorrow's my birthday, so give me lots of nice reviews as a present.
Next update at 20 reviews, or Tuesday, November 15.
Chapter 25
The lights on the marquee never go out. The parking lot is filled with floodlights. The front of the building, every straight surface, is outlined with fading neon tubes, colored glitter shouting to the odd passerby. These flames don't attract many moths anymore. Inside the vacant lobby, tv screens play endless loops of oversaturated commercials to the blind spectators that are the walls. The un-airconditioned theatres are like caves, their screens gaping orifices to the artificial sunlight of the world's B-rate movies.
Katie Mayne stays faithfully at her post. Nobody ever goes to the late night shows, but the theatre still pays its employees to stand by in case. There is something eerie about the theatre by night, but at least it is familiar, and less silent than her little apartment. There her bags are packed, ready to be taken in the morning. Night is too dangerous. No time for running, most especially from the unknown.
There is something strange in the air tonight, something electric and crackling around every bend. Slowly, silently, the television screens begin to go out. The last one flickers rebelliously on and off for several moments, the image going all yellow, red, and green in its dying moments. Katie takes in a sharp breath, then shakes herself. Ducks behind the counter next to the soda fountain, where the controls are. A malfunction, surely. The electricity here tends to be unstable. Still, nothing wrong. Nothing out of place.
A moment later, the rest of the lights dim by stages, until they have died altogether. Emergency systems kick in, and the entire lobby is bathed in a sickly blue light. Up both hallways framing the lobby, the theatres have gone dark and silent. Katie shivers suddenly. There is something wrong here. Something much stranger than a power outage unannounced in the middle of a calm night.
Ducking back behind the counter again, she reaches for the emergency phone, then thinks better of it. No reason to call security. An awful lot of fuss and explaining to do. Not a whole lot of evidence toward her sanity here. Pride still reigns prime. Calling security for an invisible intruder? Sure grounds for background check. Something she can't afford. Instead she comforts herself with palming the large knife used to slice open packages of popcorn and candy.
Across the lobby, something moves. Not a blur exactly, but a displacement in the air. A feeling deep down, pricking at the back of her neck, making the minute hairs there stand at attention like the most cliché scene in a bad horror movie. Breathing hard, Katie holds the knife firmly in her hands and slowly emerges from behind the counter. Best to face whatever is here in the open lobby, where there is a chance of getting to an exit. The concession is a trap.
Suddenly there is a sound, something rushing through the air. The flash of a knife blade, blue in the emergency light. White hot pain along her collarbone, but it stops just below her throat as she lashes out with her own weapon. Something is wrong. The attacker has missed its target.
Groping for something to support herself, Katie dives for the concession again, all thoughts of anything but backup suddenly gone from her mind. Blood flowing too fast. Pain too blinding.
She stumbles again as something grabs her feet. Whirling, Katie flails a hand toward her attacker again and touches something impossibly wet. In the low light, she can barely make out red on her fingertips. Blood pulled from thin air.
Katie manages to make it back behind the counter. Grabs the security phone. Dials the emergency button.
Is dimly aware of the receiver clattering to the floor before the pain takes over.
No matter now.
Help is on the way.
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