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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Conspiracy of Two"  Caleb's eyes nearly bulge from his head. "Are you crazy? We can't try these things on ourselves!" "Yeah, that probably would be kind of dumb," you admit. "Okay. Do you know Jeremy's phone number?" He slaps your chest and takes out his phone. "That's the spirit.". "But I want that other mask to use on Geoff," you continue. "You know, if this one works on Jeremy." But Caleb is already dialing. You take up the other mask and start polishing it while Caleb talks to your old friend. It doesn't sound like a happy conversation: Caleb has to do some serious cajoling and make some pretty lame sounding promises about the "cool stuff" you and he have found inside the old elementary school basement. But with a curt "Great, see you in a few," Caleb drops his phone and winks at you. "We better get this place straightened up. You know, make it look like we haven't been camping out here." You're more bothered by the lack of a plan. "So how do we get him to try on the mask?" you ask as you help rearrange and hide the stuff that you've hauled over from your house. "Oh, I dunno," Caleb says as he moves some tables around. "We'll just show it to him and suggest he try it on." "Why would he do that?" "Well, why wouldn't he?" "Would you, if he showed you a strange mask?" "Sure. Maybe. I dunno." "You don't know," you repeat. "This is going to be a disaster." "Well, it was your idea." "No, it was your idea. My idea was—." "Okay, so how were you planning on getting Geoff to try on a mask?" "I told you, I was going to sneak up on him. We can't sneak up on Jeremy. The guy's too big." "Oh, just give it here." Caleb grabs the mask. He looks around, then wedges it in a corner against the wall. "There. We'll pretend to find it and then dare him to try it on." You look down at the second mask, the one you've been polishing. A sudden urge comes over you. "I wonder what happens if you try on mask that isn't fully polished yet." "Well, for fuck's sake don't try it out now," Caleb exclaims. But it's too late. You've already pressed it to your face. Nothing happens, except that you get a brief, strong sense of claustrophobia. Caleb is giving you a look of alarm when you lower the mask. "What happened?" you ask. "Nothing. But it was a stupid thing to do." "Oh, I don't know," you say, having a sudden thought. "It might be useful having a dummy mask around." You drop it onto a table not far from the finished mask. * * * * * You're worried that you'll still be cleaning up when Jeremy arrives, but it's almost an hour before he does. He doesn't look very pleased as he's unbending himself and exiting his car. "So what's this awesome hiding hole you promised to show me?" Neither you nor Caleb are particularly short, but Jeremy is nearly six and half feet tall, and he seems to tower over you. "Nice to see you too, Richards," you say. "You getting enough oxygen up there?" "Oh, for fuck's sake," he snorts. Caleb nudges you. "It's over this way," Caleb says, leading you and Jeremy over to the basement door. Richards has to duck to get inside. As you look around, you can't help but guess that he is deeply unimpressed. "It's a junk heap," he snorts as he glances around the dark, dusty basement. "Well, yeah," Caleb admits. "But it's got all kind of hiding places and little mazes in it. I think it's cool." "It's cool if you're a rat," he growls, and remains in the doorway. "But a lot of this stuff is, like, really vintage furniture. How old is this school, Will?" "I think it was built in the 1920s." "Yeah, and a lot of it's in pretty good shape," Caleb continues. "I can't believe they're just sitting on it." "Because even they know it's just a lot of junk," Jeremy retorts. He looks over his shoulder; clearly he just wants to leave. "We're not sure, but we think there's an old pool table back behind this stuff," Caleb says. "Help us move some of it, will ya?" Jeremy groans, but starts helping you pull desks and cabinets away. It is actually a corner you've not explored, and you've no idea what Caleb is talking about. But after a few minutes clearing stuff away you do find something—but it's just an old conference table. "Oh. Well," Caleb says, pretending to hide disappointment. "Still, it would have been neat if it was a pool table. We could have had our own private pool hall down here." "It's a stupid place for games," Jeremy snorts. "Depends on what kind of games," you say, remembering last year's Halloween. "We could turn it into a haunted house. Oh, cool, check it out." You flick on a flashlight and turn its beam onto the masks that you and Caleb had set up earlier. You hurry over and snatch up the "dummy" mask. "This must be some old drama club stuff." You press it to your face. "Do I look like the guy in Scream?" "You look like a dork," Jeremy says, but he's followed you over. "Lemme see." "Get your own," you reply, tilting your chin at the other mask. "Maybe you could take it and use it as part of a Halloween costume." "Oh, say, that's an idea," Caleb exclaims as Jeremy cautiously picks up the other mask. "Get yourself some black rags and drape yourself all over, and then wear that. You could be like the Grim Reaper." "Try it on," you urge Jeremy. You feel your heart beating in your chest. He looks at you and at Caleb and at the mask, then puts it close to his face. But he doesn't hold it all the way up. "There aren't any eyeholes," he points out as he lowers it again. "So make some," says Caleb. "Try it on, see how it fits. If it fits, then you can take it and punch some holes in it." Jeremy raises it back to his face. For a brief moment he holds it there. And then his hand falls to his side. "Look out!" Caleb shouts as Jeremy sways on his feet. "He's going over!" You and Caleb grab him as he falls, but he's a dead weight, and the two of you crash to the ground under him. "Shit, get him off me!" you yell. His knee, or something, is jammed in your stomach. Caleb kicks and pulls and jabs you in the side of the head. "Watch it!" "Okay, I'm out. Fuck, where's the mask?" "Never the mind the mask! Just get him— Oof!" Jeremy has flopped over senselessly and knocked the wind out of you. You pull back, banging your head on a desk, but finally worm out from under him. You're catching your breath while Caleb shines his flashlight over the ground. "The mask! It's gone!" he shouts. You look around. Jeremy is lying on his back, dead to the world it appears, and the mask has fallen from his face. You scramble around, looking for it. "Get him up. Maybe he fell on it." "Shit." Caleb helps you drag Jeremy into the middle of the floor. While you feel under him, to make sure the mask hasn't been dragged along under his body, Caleb scours the floor near where he fell. Both of your searches turn up nothing. "Fuck, this is bad," you say as you stare at each other. "What's up with him? Is he breathing?" You check. Jeremy's eyes are open, and he is staring into nothingness, and his breathing is shallow. But appears to be alive. "Is he in some kind of trance?" Caleb wonders. "Maybe it's part of the magic?" "I don't know. Shit. Why couldn't the book have said something about what to expect?" "Probably because the guy who wrote the book knew exactly what to expect," Caleb says. "He wasn't interested in talking to amateurs." "Fuck," you repeat. "I guess we wait and see if anything happens." Luckily for all, you don't have to wait long. You're glancing around, looking to see if there is a hand truck or something else you can use to get Jeremy out of the basement if the worst comes to pass, when you feel Caleb grip your arm. You turn around, just in time to see a glow fade from Jeremy's face, and to see the mask materialize there. You stare at it a moment, then snatch it up. It appears to be unharmed, but you're actually more worried about Richards, so you lay it aside and bend over him. He's breathing more deeply now, and you shake him. With a groan, he opens his eyes. "Are you alright?" Caleb asks. "What the— What happened?" He sounds groggy. "You passed out. You put that mask on, and then you fell over like a stack of bricks." He sits up and rubs his head, then puts his face between his knees. "I feel sick." "Let's get you out in the air." He waves you off and stands on his own, though he sways. With increasing confidence, though, he strides over to the basement door. Once outside, he kneels down with his head very nearly at his ankles. You watch him in concern. "Thanks for a fucking lousy waste of time, assholes," he suddenly snarls as he gets up. His face is beet red. "Next time you want to prank someone, find someone else." For a moment you think he's going to punch you, but he just wheels and stalks back to his car. You watch for a few moments after he's driven away. "What a dick," Caleb mutters. Then he brightens. "Come on, let's see what we got!" * To continue: "An Ambush in the Dark" |
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