Research had told them there were only three theaters here. Originally, there had just been one screen, but over the years, before the economy tanked and the cinema closed down altogether, two more had been added. Becky and Tanner walked through the first empty space, stepping over broken red, plush seats and the occasional pile of trash, sweeping their weapons out in front of them, making sure the room was clear.
Neither of the other teams had discovered anything. The only creatures in the basement had been rats, which while vile and potentially deadly under the right circumstances, were not Vampires. “We’ll head up and check the equipment rooms,” Steph said, sounding slightly squeamish from her time with the rodents. She wasn’t a fan of such critters.
“Moving to theater number two,” Becky informed the team as she and Tanner continued on to the next large room.
This one, like the last, showed no sign of being inhabited, except for the presence of some unwanted vermin. Becky made her way down the aisle, her Glock before her, walking slowly. About halfway down, she stopped. Tanner was in the aisle across from her, and they exchanged glances. Paul wasn’t in the room with them, but he felt something shift in the atmosphere, and the fine hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Without any warning, the sound of music whirred up around them, and a movie began to play on the screen in front of them. It was old—black and white—the silent kind with piano music and dialogue inserted throughout. Instinctively, Tanner turned his weapon toward the projection room as the movie cut out and the flip, flip, flip sound of broken film weaved its way through the thick air around them before the silent movie flickered back to life.
Becky moved toward the screen, drawn to it, as if she thought the pale actress with the short, light-colored hair, might leap from the screen. Despite the phenomenon, the theater appeared to be clear.
Once Paul recovered from his initial shock, he ordered Steph and Jeb into the projection room. He fully expected them to discover someone—whether human or undead—to be standing there, manipulating the ancient equipment, but as soon as they burst through the door, it was evident this room was also empty.
Jeb dropped down and peered underneath the tables and counters as Steph looked in the closet and other spaces. “Clear,” she said, the movie continuing to play. She picked up the cord that dangled from the dilapidated machine. It wasn’t plugged in.
“What the—” Jeb began, but before he could finish his sentence, Paul’s IAC flickered, cutting out altogether for several seconds. He’d never had anything like this happen, though he remembered Aaron had mentioned it happening to them during the unusual attack at headquarters. He had no way of calling his team off under the circumstances without going into the theater himself. He was about to head for the fire escape when he regained visuals.
He was looking at Becky. There was no sound, but she was standing in the middle of the theater, screaming as something reached for her from beyond the movie screen. It looked like a long, black tentacle, and then there were more. The picture cut in and out, casting alternating light and darkness around her, making it appear as if she were moving in grainy slow motion. “Becky!” he shouted aloud, mystified as to why he couldn’t actually hear her screaming.
And then she was gone. Instead, he was looking into the projector room. Steph and Jeb were on the floor, bleeding profusely, their throats ripped from their necks in the same manner Aaron had described earlier. Jeb’s eyes were vacant, as if he were already gone, while Steph gurgled and spit up her own blood.
Paul clutched his stomach, unable to determine what to do. He needed to call for backup, but his IAC seemed completely worthless as it continued to take on a mind of its own. He saw Tanner’s lifeless body swinging from beneath the balcony from what appeared to be a red silk scarf, his eyes open and bulging. Patsy lie on the basement floor, rats devouring her small frame as her silent screams filled his mind, and Derrick crawled slowly toward her, one arm severed at the shoulder, his legs nothing but stringy filaments from the knee down.
“Dear God!” Paul shouted into the night. Frozen in panic, he took deep breaths as the horrific scenes carouselled in front of his eyes. He had no way of stopping it. He clenched his stomach, feeling as if he might vomit, and inhaled deeply, slowing his heartbeat so he could make rational decisions.
It was then that he felt a prick in the back of his neck.
Realizing he wasn’t alone, Paul swung around, his Glock drawn. It was knocked from his hand by a tall man with dark brown hair, a cocky smile on his face. Next to him, dressed in a white lab coat stood the stereotypical mad scientist, syringe in hand. “Feeling a bit woozy yet, Mr. Larkin?” he asked, a grin on his face.
“What’s… happening?” Paul asked as the world around him began to grow fuzzy around the edges.
“You should consider yourself lucky, Paul.”
In his state of confusion, Paul thought he was hearing a disembodied voice, but as the two men stepped apart, he saw the source of the ethereal sound. “Of all the Guardians in all of Australia, I have chosen you.”
The woman walking toward him had long, flowing red hair and wore a dress in the same shade, which billowed behind her in a wind she seemed to create from her own presence. When she smiled, long, sharp fangs protruded from her porcelain face. “Don’t worry, Mr. Larkin. Your teammates are fine. For now. You, however, are coming on a little journey.” Her smile broadened, and Paul thought he recognized her, though he couldn’t quite say where he might’ve seen her before.
The fact that she proclaimed his teammates were safe only sat in his mind for a moment as his legs began to feel heavy and his head started to loll. “Where… are… we going?” His tongue felt like a wet sponge, unmalleable.
“We are going to have a little fun.” Her smile shifted to a snarl, and as Paul felt his legs go, rough arms reached out to support him. Something told him her idea of fun would not be the kind of entertainment he would enjoy.
