A New Kind of High Read online

drool on me? If I can get it to move far enough away, I’ll have ample time to get under the web and make my way to the other door.

  Oh please, let this work.

  Lungs expand as I draw in the stale air. I feel a tickle in my throat. NO! Now is not the time for another coughing fit. You better listen to me, body. Act up now and I’ll be spider chow! For once, my biochemistry seems to be working in my favor and the tickle dissipates. Hoping I can recreate the cat in heat, baby wailing combo that the creature hates, I open my mouth and let loose. I keep it up for as long as I can before having to take another breath. As soon as I open my mouth for more ammo, the light flashes and I spy the spider in the far upper corner of the web.

  Success!

  Not knowing how quick it can move, I throw my body to the ground and start to roll, screaming at the same time. When I face the floor, the sound is significantly muffled, but hopefully when I come back around, it’ll be loud enough to keep the spider in retreat mode.

  Keeping my arms straight by my sides, I roll and roll. Suddenly I’m seeing stars as pain cuts my battle cry off, mid-scream. It feels like a chunk of hair has been pulled out. I guess that it got caught up in the sticky web and stayed there when I tried to move away. No time to cry over a bald spot now. Without the scream, the red eyed demon will be back looking for its meal. I stifle the tears and get back to rolling; knowing I’ve gotten past the web and the wall must be close.

  “ OW!”

  I’m obviously much closer to the wall than I thought since my head just attempted to dent it. I’m a bit dazed, thanks to concussing myself and the head wound, but I struggle to my feet, hands stroking the wall looking for the door.

  Oh thank God. There it is. Gripping the brass handle I pull, but remember to be cautious not to hit myself again, lord only knows how many head injuries I can take. Before I can step through, I hear a horrid scuttling sound. I glance over my shoulder just as the light comes back on and GAH! There is it, on the floor behind me.

  “Back! Back foul beast!”

  I kick a foot out and it…goes right through it? What the hell? No time to debate it now.

  It’s still coming at me. Must leave the room! I slip through the opening and slam the door behind me, holding onto the handle and leaning my weight back so it can’t pull the door open from the opposite side. Then it hits me…no thumbs. That stupid spider won’t be opening the door. I suppose it could break through…but then it won’t matter if I’m holding it or not.

  I release the handle and stumble back, unbalanced. Thankfully I catch myself before my ass hits the floor. God only knows what’s in this room and I need to stay on my feet until I figure it out at least.

  I turn around and put my hands out to the sides as if I playing airplane. I wiggle my fingers. Nothing but air. Pretending I am at the gym, I lean at the waist to my right. My fingers graze something. I splay them out and run my whole hand back and forth. Definitely a wall. Made of…

  Oww dammit!

  I pull my hand back. Something stuck me. I’m thinking it’s a splinter as the wall felt like wood. -Sigh- Can’t pull a splinter out in the dark. My earrings tickle my cheeks as I shake my head back and forth. I go ahead and lean the other way, repeating my earlier motions. I hit wall there as well, but I’m smart enough not to get another little wooden dagger in my hand.

  Great, so I’m in a narrow hall of some sort. I’m not typically claustrophobic, but the idea of being in the dark in such a small space is causing me some major anxiety.

  I shake my head, more violently this time, to dispel my nerves. A shiver creeps up my back and shoulders. I escaped cyanide gas and a giant hungry spider. I can handle some close quarters. I just need to push on. The exit can’t be much further, right?

  Stepping forward, the ground seems…soft-ish beneath my foot. I hear a very distinctive clicking sound and a warm glow appears. A freaking torch on the wall has “magically” lit. Really? A torch? Have I been transported back to stupid Medieval times or something?

  It creates a dancing yellowish circle around it, casting some incredibly eerie shadows as something makes it move. A breeze? I don’t feel it, but the idea of it gives me hope that there’s a definite opening at the end of this hallway. An exit maybe.

  I guess I should make like the olden days and take the torch with me. I reach up and put my hand on the base. It unexpectedly falls into my open hand and I have to hurry to catch it and not burn the crap out of myself.

  What the hell?!

  Once safely contained, I raise it to get a better look at what was holding it to the wall. It’s a hand! A freaking hand that opened up! That cannot be real. It must just be some animatronic kind of thing.

  With a shaking finger, I poke the now open palm. Before I can blink, it closes in and has a death grip around my finger.

  “ Let go!!”

  I pull back with all my might and in the same swift gesture, it releases me. I fly back, dropping the stupid torch at the same time. I hit the wall behind me hard with my head and hear the sound of breaking glass.

  Oh, that’s fabulous. Just what I need, seven years bad luck. I really don’t need even seven seconds more.

  I tentatively touch the back of my head. No warm gushing liquid. That’s a plus. Looking down, I see the torch is still lit and not burning the joint down. Yet another plus. I bend and pick it up, careful not to cause myself anymore damage. I hold it up to the wall I hit and I see several slivers of myself looking back at me. I sigh again. Maybe the bad luck won’t hit until I leave this place.

  Better get a move on.

  The torch doesn’t throw out much light, so I can only see a few feet in front of me. The walls are lined with identical mirrors and I flinch every time I pass one and catch a glimpse of myself. I’m waiting for the moment went it’s not me but someone else standing there. I’ve seen those old Scooby Doo episodes. I know how it works.

  Once again, the only sound to be heard is my own breathing and the occasional addition of the crackling torch. Even my steps don’t resonate. I wonder what exactly I’m walking on, but don’t want to risk leaning over to find out.

  Due to all the silence, I notice immediately when a new sound enters the orchestra. I slow down and stop completely, ears perked up. It’s a scrapping type sound, as if something’s being dragged. There’s a loud clink when whatever it is hits ones of the mirror frames and then a sound reminiscent to nails on a chalkboard as it goes over the glass surface itself. I cringe and scrunch my neck down, tilting my head to try to block out the sound with a shoulder.

  Another new sound drifts towards me. Holy crap, is that…whistling? Oh God, it’s a person. Some other person is in this long skinny hallway with me and it’s dragging something ominous against the wall, heading my way.

  The whistling and scrapping gets louder as the person gets closer. My stomach drops as I suddenly recognize the tune. Send in the Clowns. Oh holy mother of God. Please tell me I am not stuck in the dark with a creep-tastic deranged clown. I’d rather be eaten by the spider! I cannot stand around and wait to find out.

  Since I don’t see any other light source, I’ve got to guess it’s moving in the dark. I’m sure it can see mine though. Do I ditch it? If I throw it away, killer clown won’t know my locale, but that also means fumbling my way towards the exit and tripping over God only knows what else.

  “OOOh Anna! You should see the fun toy I have for you. Teehee!”

  Hole. Lee. Crap. It knows my name. How the hell does it know my name? I break out in a cold sweat, the injection site on the back of my neck suddenly stings from the salty substance.

  “Coooome on Anna. Don’t you want to plaaaaay with me?” Its voice has gone from cheery happy clown to menacing horror movie serial killer, the pitch dipping and speed slowing like a toy with a dying battery.

  “No,” my tiny voice squeaks out before I can stop myself. I slap my free hand over my traitorous mouth.

  There’s a lo
ng drawn out beat of silence.

  “That’ssss a sssshame, Anna. I sssso want to play with you.” Now it sounds like a snake? Visions of a clown with a long forked tongue almost brings me to my knees.

  I’m back pedaling now, scared to turn around and have it come up behind me. My pulse is pounding hard in my throat, making it difficult to breathe.

  “Poor Anna. Are you sssscared? I can almost tasssste your fear. MMmmm. Delicioussss.”

  I trip over my own feet and fall into one of the side walls where I feel something clamp down on my free arm. Looking down I see a row of those animatronic hands on the wall, one is gripping onto me tightly.

  “Nononononono,” I chant under my breath, struggling to pull away. This thing has an iron-like hold on me. I’d have to drop the torch to pry the fingers up. I feel a sharp pain in my head, my poor head, as one of them grabs a handful of my long hair. DAMMIT!

  “Pleeease. Let me go!”

  “Tsssk. Tsssk. Did you get ssssstuck? Let me help.” Evil clown thing is close. So close. It must be right outside the reach of my torch light.

  I’m not sure when exactly the water works started, but tears are making my vision all blurry. I sniffle loudly. Stuffy nose and heart in throat are significantly cutting off my air.

  I gasp when I spy a comically long candy cane looking arm stretching into my circle of light. The fingers are splayed out and tipped with some crazy nails that are filed to