Page 2

The smell hit first.

Dust hung in the stale air with fresh paint, raw plywood, adhesive, and the faint metallic tang of machinery that had been running too long. Somewhere deeper inside, a drill whined. An air compressor kicked on with a hard mechanical cough, and a second later someone shouted for another extension cord.

The cheerful noise of festival setup disappeared as the door swung shut behind us.

Factory of Screams had looked larger in photographs.

It also looked better.

I unbuttoned my coat as we entered the first main room. Black plastic sheeting covered part of one wall while two crew members painted a series of battered industrial panels in layered shades of rust and soot. Another person was wiring red fixtures overhead. The scenic work was rough in places, but that did not worry me. Paint could be corrected. Lighting could hide sins. Fabric, texture, sound, performers, and careful blocking could transform a room quickly.

A mechanical figure mounted near a bank of faux pipes worried me considerably more.

It was supposed to lunge.

It twitched.

The motor whined, one shoulder jerked forward approximately three inches, and then the creature froze with its rubber mouth hanging open.

I stared at it.

Lisa folded her arms.

“That wasn’t in the video from Monday.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

A crew member crossed the room and pulled the power before the motor could burn itself out.

I stepped closer and studied the mechanism without touching it. The exterior finish was old but effective, with stretched mottled skin, uneven teeth, and a hunched silhouette that still looked disturbing under ordinary work lights. The problem was everything making it move.

“What happened?”

“Drive linkage started slipping yesterday. They adjusted it twice. It got worse.”

I was already reorganizing the room.

“Can the crew secure it in a fixed position safely?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop spending time trying to make it lunge until we know whether the mechanism is worth saving. A performer can draw attention in one direction while we light this from below and use it as scenery if we have to.”

Lisa nodded once and made a note.

That was problem one.

Problem two waited in the next room.

The newer effect was supposed to lift a covered shape off an examination table while lights strobed beneath translucent material. Instead, the platform rose unevenly, shuddered, and stopped halfway with one end visibly higher than the other.

I crouched to study the base.

“Is this new?”

“Built this year. The local crew built it with a contractor assisting on the mechanical portion.”

I stood again. “Can anyone here rebuild the lift?”