Page 33 of Haunted Horror on Halloween

Of course, her jacket was long gone.

“Oh! You know, this is fantastic. I personally think you are the epitome of evil and you’re the one who should really burn in hell for eternity, but I give you this! What a creation. There’s not a theme park in the world that can outdo this—”

He laughed, dark eyes seeming to flash just beneath the white mask that covered his upper face.

“There’s not a theme park in the world with creations as authentic as mine! I mean, who the hell else has the ability to use real bodies, lovely, lovely, flesh and blood!” he taunted.

“And a lot of them. Six, I’m guessing?” she asked. “Well, besides those you left specifically for us to find so we’d split in a dozen directions to come after you in the forest.”

He wasn’t touching her; he was still handling the wickedly curved knife that was glinting in the blood red mist, but he wasn’t ready to kill her yet.

She stepped back, hurrying to another witch, also “floating” from a tree, drawing the woman down carefully, seeing it was her arm that had been slashed.

“And you really think that this can save them? I told you . . . you’re going to watch, watch while I do more damage. But knock yourself out, how pathetic, how sad, and how it delights me to see you think that you’ll be able to help.”

“There are six of these things that are people—” Angela began.

“Six? Eight!” he shouted after her, his voice proud. “Sadly, I didn’t have time to convince them all that I was their only chance of anything that resembled a decent eternity! And your idiot partner can chase that kid from here to eternity and he won’t find any of my, um, you know, devotees! Nope, they’re all here, all here . . . bleeding away. And there’s just little old you here, and I know exactly who the hell you are now!”

For a brilliant man, a monster who had managed to manipulate and terrorize people and manage all this, he had ridiculously given her just what she’d needed to know.

“You don’t want to do this!” she cried.

“Oh, Special Agent Angela Hawkins Crow!” He declared. “You are so wrong. I can’t wait to do this! I mean the others . . . that was Arabella, by the way, the girl you just tried to help. I was so clever, reeling you all in, not letting you realize at first just how far I’d gone, how many people I’d twisted into helping me! Start with a kidnapping at a coffee shop, take a young woman and an old woman. But they’re just collateral damage. Wait, it’s me! Collateral fun, so much fun, cutting people, letting them know that they’ll die slowly but they will die! You. You are the grand prize. Do you know what got me through the days in prison? Dreaming. Day dreaming, night dreaming. And they were beautiful dreams. Dreams about the way I’m going to cut all your fingers and toes off and then slice you all over that glorious body of yours! Maybe I’ll chop up your limbs, but I want you to live long and suffer horribly for every night I spent in that place! Oh, and don’t worry, you won’t be alone, trust me. Boy toy is going to die, too.”

“Boy toy?” she queried.

“He came in with his gun. But it was you, miss sweetness and light, talking about the way you needed to understand life and death, how you were looking for the man or the god or the way to go, how to give of yourself . . . you claimed you were ready to make any sacrifice, your own life, to discover the truth of our being here on earth. Well! That time, boy toy and the boys were already rounding up my most ardent believers, and he managed to get a gun to my head. But that kid out there is going to kill him. Shoot to kill. I taught him you two were the worst demons, that you misbehaved, that you ruined all that was to be done and his family and he would be burning, burning forever, if he didn’t follow through with my commands. And believe it or not, the kid can aim.” He started to laugh again. “Don’t worry! Your boy is like you; there are a few decorations out there that are really props from the old costume shop. But by the time he rushes in to be a savior, Gil will have a bullet in his head. I just didn’t need to torture him. You—well, I can’t wait for the torture to begin! I think that it should start right now!”

He wrenched her by the arm, dragging her over to an area in the trees. From behind one he drew out a large dress, one that was as blood red as the coming sun, and a black cape and pointed witch’s hat.

“I thought about a dog costume,” he told her. “Bitch, witch, a truly bitchy witch! But I wanted you all nice and beautiful when they finally made their way through the woods! Time for you to strip! Strip now! I’ll bet you’ll look truly fine in this red mist! But you do know, you needn’t worry about me touching you with anything but a knife. You may be little miss blond beauty, but I’m not interested in seeing you do anything but bleed!”

Angela was never sure herself, just how Jackson had managed to move.

But he was suddenly there.

And once again, he had his Glock flush with Darrell Manderley’s head.

“Not today, phantom-vamp,” he told Manderley. “Not today.”

“How the hell—” Manderley began, spinning around and trying to thrust Angela before him.

She ducked, evading his grasp, and he let out a roar, heedless of the Glock, raising his knife and racing toward one of the remaining witches.

Jackson fired.

And the man fell. And just as he did, the sun suddenly rose higher in the sky.

The blood red mist seemed to evaporate.

And there was a rush of movement. Brian McFadden and a dozen other agents rushed into the woods with cops and EMTs and more. Angela turned to help.

She didn’t need to do so.

Bruce McFadden was directing Krewe members; Detective Valiente had also arrived with police officers.

All helping the EMTs, finding the victims created to be Halloween creatures within the shadows of the forest.