That was it.No request for him to sign the photo or any address to return it to.
Shit.He was no stranger to weird mail, and this rang a very familiar alarm bell.
He checked the envelope again.Like the note inside, the address had been printed.The postmark was from Blyham itself.As he looked at the next item of mail, cold fingers of dread skittered down his spine.The envelope was different, but the print was exactly the same.Inside was another photograph.Another image fromRed Hills Massacre.He was in his tight white underpants again, only this time he wasn’t dead.It showed his character walking through his house, unaware of the killer right behind, the grisly axe raised to strike.The killer in the movie was nicknamed Baby Face on account of the creepy baby mask he wore.A grinning face with a single tooth.This time the message with the photo readDead man walking,followed by a smiling emoji.
Who the hell would waste their time bothering to send him these?Hudson had a sneaky suspicion but didn’t want to risk manifesting it by even acknowledging the idea.
There were two more similar photos and messages—Soon you dieandPretty boy dead—then a couple of seemingly genuine letters from people saying they couldn’t wait to see him in the show.By the time he got to them, he was so unsettled he couldn’t take in what the writers were saying.
The spell was broken by voices in the corridor.The door opened and the director and the producer arrived together, full of new-week enthusiasm.Andie Shapiro was one of the most acclaimed theatre directors in recent years, with smash-hit shows in London and New York.A large black woman in her mid-fifties, she had a personal style ran to colourful silk blouses and masses of jewellery.
“Hey, an actor who can get out of bed on a morning,” she declared in a booming voice as she caught sight of Hudson.“I like it.This is going to be a great week.I can feel it already.”
Even the producer, Rav Millard, was smiling.Rav was fifty-five, overweight and, from Hudson’s impression of him so far, permanently stressed.“Morning, Hudson.Good to see you so keen.”
Andie enveloped Hudson in a wide hug and breathed air kisses on his cheeks.“I hope you got plenty of rest over the weekend.You’re going to need all your energy.”As she stood back, she spotted the spread of photos on the table.“What’s all this?”The note of caution in her voice was unmistakable.
“I just collected them from the stage door,” he explained, leafing through the pictures.“Grim, aren’t they?I hate that fucking movie.”
Rav gathered up the photos and envelopes.“Who gave them to you?”He stacked them in an untidy heap and shoved them under his arm.
“I told you.I just collected them from the stage door.”He caught the look that passed between Rav and Andie.
“We’ve got people to handle your fan mail,” Rav said.“You don’t need to waste your time on nonsense like this.Just pre-sign a stack of promos and we’ll mail them out on your behalf.”He looked away from Hudson, avoiding his eyes.
“They’re not asking for autographs.Well, apart from a couple.The rest are just weird.”Now Andie was avoiding his gaze, seemingly transfixed by something important on her phone.The sense of unease that had been with him since he’d opened the mail continued to grow.“Have there been more of these?”Today was the first time he’d been handed his mail at the stage door.For the whole of the first week there had been nothing.“Have there?”
Andie gave him a reassuring smile.“It’s nothing.A needless distraction, that’s all.”
He stiffened.“It’s a little more than that, I’d say.Someone has gone to the trouble of getting those shots printed, those particular shots, and posted them here with their creepy messages.Pretty boy dead.How many more of these has there been?”
Another loaded glance between the director and the producer.
“A few,” Rav said.
“But it’s nothing,” Andie said.“Just some sad case getting a cheap thrill.”
His head was spinning.“Are they all like this?”
The silence was palpable.
“Pretty much,” Andie admitted after a long pause.
Hudson put his figures to his temples, trying to contain his vexing thoughts.“You’ve been keeping it from me.”
“It’s for the best,” Rav said.“Look how unsettled it’s made you today.It’s just some rando trying to freak you out.Not worth worrying about.”
He laughed incredulously.He wanted to be angry.He wanted to swear and rage at this pair for what they’d taken upon themselves to do.“You do know what happened to me before?I’ve had experience of this shit.I’ve had to take out court orders over stuff like this.”
“I’m sure this is not that serious,” Andie said.
“The fucking post marks are right from this city.Whoever sent those is nearby.”
“A keyboard warrior,” Rav said brightly.“You know what they’re like.”
“We all do,” Andie added.
“They tend to stick to online trolling.Not posting photographs of me covered in blood in just my underwear.”
