A short while later, I found myself in my bathroom. With Seth. In the dark. Only a single candle provided any light at all. "Well, this is awkward," I whispered. "Not something I ever imagined doing. Ever."
Seth put his hand on my back and smiled. "Relax, man. We're only gonna summon a horrible serial killer. It's not like we're gonna do anything weird together or anything."
We both turned and faced the mirror and chanted together.
Candyman.
Candyman.
Candyman.
Candyman.
Seth and I glanced at each other for reassurance, but I found none, and backed away from the mirror. "Fuck! I can't do this… Seriously, dude. I can't do it." Seth whispered back, "If you don't say it, I will. So say it." I returned to my place beside Seth and took a deep breath. On the exhale, I barely squeaked it out.
"Candyman."
I squeezed my eyes shut, as if to deny what I just did, and wish it away. But after a few moments, nothing happened. I opened my eyes, expecting to see Candyman staring back at me through the mirror, but I saw nothing but my and Seth's reflections.
Seth exhaled as well. "Nothing. No Candyman." I blew the candle out, and we exited the bathroom, returning to my bedroom. Seth gathered his things, stuffed his phone and keys in his pockets, and then headed to the door.
"Well, let me know if he ever bothers to show up. I'll get over here as soon as I can. Hopefully, I won't find you with a hook in your chest."
I cut my eyes at him cynically. "Thanks. Means a lot." Seth blew on out of my door. Plopping back on my bed, I drew a deep breath and contemplated the day. Man, what a day it was, too. Candyman, Freddy Krueger, and my idiot friend Seth actuallybuyingall these hijinks really happened. Perhaps it was good that Candyman never came. I don't know if a brain aneurysm would have helped my situation any, because that's what would have happened. Or maybe a hook to the chest. That too.
The only reason I knew that sun had risen was that a piercing beam of light sliced through the only gap in the posters plastered across my window. The light hit me square in the eyes, as I managed to contort my body (through tossing and turning) into a cross between a pretzel and embroidery. I grumbled and untangled myself from my sheets, and in the process I dumped all of my bedding and pillows onto the floor, leaving the mattress bare. I trudged across my floor to my bathroom for my morning piss and mouthwash, as was my ritual.
When I flicked the bathroom light on, I nearly shit my pants. Gouged into my bathroom mirror was a very crude message: "Don't call me – I'll call you". After I collected myself, I realized that was a message from Candyman, probably made by his hook. I picked at the lettering with a fingernail and found that he most likely engraved it with his hook, so I was just going to have to live with it. Being a part-time video clerk didn't afford me the budget to replace mirrors ruined by fictional serial killers.
My mind drifted to Falcon Ortega. What role did he play in all of this? Was it he who had what Candyman sought, or did Freddy? How did he get mixed up in all of this business? Was it Falcon who somehow managed to conjure Freddy Krueger and Candyman out of fiction and make them real? The questions flooded my brain to the point I physically shook my head in an attempt to make them stop.
I looked at the time on my cell phone and briefly thought I was late for work, but quickly remembered I had the day off, and breathed a sigh of relief. This afforded me more time to address the insanity that had taken over my life as of late. Setting to my usual household chores, I caught up on past-due duties neglected by both my slacker lifestyle and recent events. Over the span of a few hours, the dishes were washed, laundry was processed, clothes folded, and carpets vacuumed.
The chore I always saved for last was taking the trash out, as this forced me to experience sunlight. Being both procrastinator and agoraphobe, I doubly despised this menial task. I drug the trashcan around to the back door; to minimize the trip from one can to the next. I had no idea if there was a puncture in the bottom of the bag, and took no chances. I lifted the bag out of the interior can and turned to the exterior can. When I dropped the bag in, I found someone standing behind it. A very attractive someone. In fact, this someone looked downright heavenly.
The woman was clad in a simple white sundress that hugged her slender form, and she had a glow around her you could see for blocks. She had shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair that fell about her shoulders in wavy locks. I met her eyes at almost eye-level, dumbstruck by her beauty. She looked back at me, expressionless, and stepped around from behind the trashcan, at which point I noticed she was barefoot, which struck me as odd. The woman stepped to within a few paces of me, but maintained her distance.
"We need to talk."
"Who are you? What are you doing in my backyard?"
"I have much to discuss with you."
"Where are your shoes? Are you some sort of homeless model or something?"
"Listen!" That last word boomed with some extraordinary force, as if spoken through invisible concert speakers from all angles around me. The sound resonated in my chest for a few moments after the word hit me. Needless to say, this shut me right the hell up.
"You are being drawn into a battle for which you are unprepared, against forces you could not hope to defeat by yourself. It is critical you accept my help. Your life may – no, shall – depend on it."
I sighed. More help from beyond a veil I couldn't see. At this rate, random encounters were becoming commonplace, so the sudden appearance of a random ethereal hottie didn't surprise me as much as I thought it might. It did, however, get my attention.
My hands on my hips, I responded, "Well, I figured if Candyman didn't hook me, Freddy sure was going to think up something extra psycho to carve me up into. So I knew I was screwed already. How are you supposed to help me?"
"With this." The woman reached behind her back, and produced a small, semi-professional looking camera. She handed the camera to me and then took a small step back, possibly for caution's sake. I turned the camera over in my hands, inspecting it. There were no brand markings on it, or identifying marks of any kind, and it had a thin shoulder strap attached to it so you didn't have to constantly hold it when not in use. The camera looked like it required actual film, as opposed to just being digital, but when I popped the back hatch open to see if it was loaded, it wasn't.
I finally looked back up at the woman to respond, and she had taken a few more steps backward. I asked, "How is this supposed to help me? I don't even know where to buy film!"
"Just point and click. It will stop lesser demons and evils. The bigger ones… well, they will take more work. Please do not die." She turned to go, but I had one last question to ask:
"What's your name?"
"Hmm… good question. Just call me… Lauren. Until next time." She continued to walk away, towards a fence, but as she reached it, she simply faded through, as if either she or the fence wasn't there. I looked back down at the camera, and found the one identifying mark on it, etched on the inside of the back hatch door.
Camera Obscura.
Really imaginative.
"Dude, I think that chick stole this camera from my grandma. This gizmo dates back to the Stone Age." Seth turned the Camera Obscura over in his hands, examining it closely. "I can't even find the battery slot on this piece of junk."
I walked over to my bed and reclaimed the Camera from Seth and gave it another once-over. "I don't think it takes batteries. Probably runs on human souls or fear or something. There's no telling." I set the Camera down on my desk, sat down next to it, and propped my elbows up on the desk, resting my head in my hands.
Seth changed the subject a little bit. "So… was she hot?"
"Who?"
"The, uh… the ghosty, weird chick?"
"Lauren?"
"Yeah, Lauren. Weird name, too. She could have picked any awesome name in the world, and she goes with 'Lauren'? If it were me, I would have picked Aphrodite or Valkyria or something badass-sounding."
I turned to face Seth. "Well, first, I think she chose it to imply anonymity. She wanted me to know I had no business asking. Second, what does it matter? I thought Lauren fit her look pretty well. I have no issues."
Seth smirked, "You didn't answer my question, bro."
"You're right," I replied. "I didn't."
"Whatever, man. I was just asking." Seth scoffed and got off the bed where he was seated and walked over to my TV and cut it on. Hearing Jeopardy on, I turned around to watch.
Seth and I argued for a few minutes about who was cooler: Alex Trebek with a mustache, or Alex Trebek without a mustache. Right as I was about to make what I thought was a very decent point, the signal on the TV suddenly cut to static, startling both Seth and me. I got up and slapped the side of the TV, as if it would help. I immediately regretted it.
The first image to pop up was a bright white circle in the middle of a black screen, which appeared to be eclipsed by something, creating a very vivid white ring. A flash of static, then rushing water, like a beach, but the water was blood red. Another flash of static, then a shot of a chair sitting in the middle of an empty room. The chair suddenly shifted, then the image cut to the chair spinning upside-down in the air.
These images were familiar. I knew I needed to turn away and cover any part of me that could experience this. But I was mesmerized.
The static flashes and images got faster. A woman combing her hair in the mirror, and the woman's reflection smiles back. A man stares down from the first floor of a house, then turns away. A random cliff, with a fly walking around on the lens. A wire being extracted from some random thing's mouth.
I could hear Seth's panic, but only barely. All I could hear him say is "dude", over and over again.
The last image was a wide shot of a clearing in the forest, with an old cobblestone well in the center. The image lasted for a few moments, and then cut off back to static. A second later, our regularly scheduled programming resumed. We had apparently missed Final Jeopardy.
Neither Seth nor I moved for some time. He was the first to break the silence.
"Was that…"
"Yeah."
"And did we…"
"Yeah."
"We're screwed."
"I know. That was the video from The Ring. As in, we're gonna die."
Seth drew a big breath. "That phone's gonna ring any minute now. I say we don't answer it. If we don't answer, we'll be safe."
"Not gonna work, and you know it."
"We'll see. Oh, and not it! Y'know… for answering when itdoesring."