Page 14 of Haunted Horror on Halloween

“Is he crazy, does he believe himself, or he uses his crazy as a way to manipulate and perhaps scare people?” Angela asked.

“That’s the strange thing. Some thought he was crazy. Some almost believed him—I mean that was his first gig, right? Getting the vulnerable to believe he truly was all the power in creation. Some thought he was just having fun at their expense. Whether he’s crazy or not, Halloween is his big thing. So . . .”

“We’ll get everyone watching out for Halloween,” Jackson said.

“And watch yourselves!” Bruce warned.

“Of course,” Jackson said.

“Always,” Angela said.

“And not to worry; I’ll keep tabs on them.” Trent said, making Jackson smile and roll his eyes at the spirit.

“Trent is great, amazing,” Jackson said. “Anything Halloween—we send him in first.”

“That’s a plan,” Bruce assured him. “I’ll be back with anything I can get.”

“Thanks, and yes, of course, anything, no matter how small. Tell our people we need to know who helped the man; they might still be helping him. Find out what guards are off today, which guards are . . .”

As his voice trailed, Angela quickly picked up the thought, “Which of the guards might be susceptible to someone like Manderley, someone who could be easily manipulated and actually give in to his beliefs, who might be having a bad life and believe a man like Darrell Manderley might be the power who could change that for them.”

“Gotcha. And out!” Bruce told them.

They ended the call.

“Into the woods,” Angela reminded him.

“Into the woods,” Jackson agreed, striking off the almost invisible, slender trail through the trees and the brush.

“Maybe we should have been forest rangers!” Angela said lightly, crawling over a tangle of roots. We do seem to wind up in forests often enough.”

“And Halloween. Banshees and . . . we did manage to pull a girl out of a coffin alive when she’d been attacked and left in an attraction.”

“We did. It’s just that this man, Darrell Manderley, Jackson, we’ve come across human beings who work off a great deal of evil, but this guy! He’s beyond horrible, the way he uses psychology and torture and makes people believe his lies, makes people have faith in him!”

“Faith,” he said. “In most religions, faith is believing in god in one way or another, and faith itself is believing in what hasn’t been proven. Most people look to a higher being, God, as a creator who seeks human beings to behave well, to be kind . . . and since it’s all faith in one way or another, this man just learned how to twist it all horrendously.”

“As do most cult leaders,” Angela said sadly. “He’s just pushed it beyond.”

“Here is the thing that many good people believe when it comes to be horrible things among men—wars aren’t fought over religion. Religion teaches kindness and caring. Those who are seeking power, money, recognition or land are great at using religion as an excuse to do horrible things. This fellow has really learned how to twist things in a way few others in history have managed.”

“So, this time, we must stop him—for good.” Angela said.

“He’s a game player. We just need to figure out the game. And it has something to do with Halloween,” Jackson reminded her.

“I wonder if he’s doing something similar to criminal activity we’re seen before—kidnapping people and putting them into Halloween exhibits. The thing is, at so many of these places, the companies come in and set up their haunted houses, mansions, school rooms, whatever, and the organizers really have no idea of just what they’ve got. People expect to see coffins, spiderwebs . . . ghosts and goblins. So, unless it’s had time to decay, a human body is going to look just like a body prop that’s really been done well.”

“That’s true. But . . .”

“You think he’s planning something more devious,” Trent offered. “I do, too. From what I’ve heard you say about this man.”

“But what? And what is it going to do with Halloween?” Angela wondered. “I sincerely doubt he’s going to set a giant bonfire—that would just draw attention. And I don’t think he wants to get caught again. Oh! He likes to watch what he makes people do—or what he does to people. So . . .”

“So, you don’t think he’s going to be hanging around a Halloween attraction of any kind—one with security and now, possibly, dozens of cops?” Jackson asked.

“Right. And woah!” She was in the lead, following the trail that was barely a trail, reading the twisted broken branches and leaves as they moved along. “Sorry, watch it, Jackson, massive root right there.”

“Shush, shush!” Trent whispered suddenly.