Mischief Night (7 page)

"Around the back?" Jimmy whispered to him.

"Yeah."

"This is where it all began. Well, let's get this over with."

Both boys hurried forward, shoulders hunched over. The street was quiet, and it had always been an isolated nook of the small town anyway. Only a few other homes were on the block, all of them old, although nothing compared with Berger's spook house. Rusty shivered at the chill air, the temperature continuing to drop. It had been a long, harrowing night, with seemingly no end. Disaster lurked around every corner. Danger waited for him, knew his name. He tried not to think about his parents, instead focusing on what lay before them, and what he might do to help them escape from Berger's power. He just
had
to find a way.

They crept along the side of the house, keeping free of the clutching thorn bushes that lined the wall. Jimmy seemed to be fearless, boldly going first, hesitating, then reaching the back porch. Here's where it had all happened, Rusty thought, as both boys stared at the forbidding kitchen entrance. Here's where Berger had taken Jimmy, hypnotized him somehow, made him his puppet. And now they'd returned again, one year later. Jimmy was already pulling at the handle, and to their surprise it easily turned in his grasp. He snapped his head back at Rusty.

Too easy. Something's wrong.

Jimmy tried the inside door. It was open as well. Neglect? Or maybe Berger had been using it recently, unknown to the neighbors or police. Of course, the other possibility, and the most unpleasant one, was that it smelled of a trap. But how could Berger know that Rusty would come back here of all places? The man was cunning, held some type of weird power, but Rusty refused to believe that he knew everything he was thinking. Or
might
be thinking.

Jimmy looked back at him.

"Let's go." Rusty whispered. "We won't find any answers standing around out here."

Joining the other boy, Rusty pushed the frame inwards, and they now stood in the kitchen. Jimmy pulled out a flashlight, and they examined the interior. Cobwebs fluttered about like the dried husks of ghosts. The table was empty, the counter bare.

"The bank probably cleaned the place out. They'll turn over a grave to find a penny. At least that's what my mom said once…" Jimmy shrugged.

Rusty frowned. Where to start? If anything important was still to be found here, it wouldn't be out in the open, he reasoned. "Let's try the basement or attic."

Both were unpleasant choices, and neither of them were in a rush to try their slim options. But time was running out.

"I don't know," Jimmy whispered. "Basement first. It's closer. Probably right behind that door." He pointed at the single door in the room, walking towards it. Leading the way with his flashlight, Rusty was on his heels.

"Stay close. I'm really getting the creeps big time." Jimmy's face looked scared, his usual confidence melting away in the silent home of their enemy. Rusty felt something in the walls around him as well. A quiet, patient sense of malice. Evil had lived here. Still might. Bad things had happened here. And he didn't care to find out any details. His instincts were strong enough to quench any doubts.

They descended the stairs, finding them to be steep, old, and in disrepair. The floorboards moaned with each footstep, sending shivers down both their spines. After nearly two dozen steps, they reached the bottom. Jimmy's light illuminated a large room, filled with boxes that appeared empty. A solitary light bulb was fixed to the center, and Rusty walked forward, trying it. The bulb was dead.

"Let's look around, maybe we can find something."

"What are we looking for?"

"I don't know. Just...something interesting, maybe?"

"Rusty, I hate to tell you this, but your plan's really bad."

They rummaged around, searching for anything which seemed unusual or out of place. Rusty didn't have a clue as to what they were looking for, but he knew this house held secrets, and he was determined to unlock them. After long moments though, they came up empty-handed.

"Now what?"

Rusty ignored the question, still looking. He felt along the walls, which were cold and unpleasantly damp to the touch. Shaking his head, he stood back, his search revealing nothing. He looked at the floor again.

"Wait. That carpet."

"What about it?" Jimmy glanced upstairs nervously. "Did you hear something?"

Rusty followed his gaze in alarm. "No," he whispered. "And I hope
you
didn't either."

"If Berger finds us down here, we're trapped."

Rusty tried not to think about it…"Lift the carpet up." Bending over, he pulled it back, while Jimmy stared at the steps. "Wait, I think I found something."

He had. There was a metal latch fixed into the floor, one that just might be the opening to a trap door. He bit his lower lip in excitement. "Let's see what we can see…"

~ * ~

While Jimmy fidgeted, Rusty pulled the handle up, exposing a hidden compartment. He coughed as dust swirled all around, and now Jimmy cautiously approached, scanning the opening with his flashlight. "You're right. It was underneath the old carpet." He leaned forward as Rusty knelt on the floor.

"Look. There's a bag, and something else. I don't know, it's like a piece of rock. That's strange."

"Everything is strange around here. Hurry up and open that bag."

But Rusty didn't feel quite like hurrying right now. What if it
was
a trap? He paused, tossing things around. He'd certainly come too far to stop. Too much was on the line. And if Berger could outguess him at every turn, then he was destined to lose anyway. But somehow he didn't believe it. The man had powers, but had to have a weakness. They only had to find out what it was. Maybe...

They both snapped their heads up together. Something moved upstairs, there was no question. They locked frightened stares, the same word on both their lips.
Berger...

Rusty moved quickly now, his fear molding into action. They didn't know what was up there, but based on past experience, it probably wasn't anything good. He opened the sack now, grabbing the light from Jimmy's trembling hands. Pouring the contents onto the floor, his mouth opened in surprise. It was full of things, different things.
Familiar
things.

One of his sneakers he'd thought lost for over a year. A belt buckle which looked like the one his dad wore all the time, until it had mysteriously vanished at home, to the bewilderment of his parents. A necklace which looked similar to one his mom had lost. Yes! It
had
to be the same one. The pattern was identical.

Then his heart skipped a beat. He picked up a black collar. Krypto's dog collar.

His eyes smoldered like cinders in a fire...

Jimmy stared at him, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't understand. What does it mean?" He whispered, his voice on the verge of breaking. They heard another sound upstairs, coming from the middle of the house.

"Wait. That's my watch." He grabbed a small blue watch from the pile. "What's it doing here? I lost it, well, last year."

"Before Halloween?"

Jimmy hesitated for a second. "Yeah."

Rusty nodded. "This stuff was stolen. It has to be the way Berger controls people. And look. There's lots of things in here. Maybe from half the people in town. He's up to something real bad."

"But how does he do it, even with all of this?"

Confused, Rusty sat back on his heels, thinking. He was extremely worried at the prospect of being caught down here, but they couldn't just run now after finding the trap door. Old man Berger had concealed these items for a reason. It
had
to be how he controlled people. But what about the rock? He stared at it for a moment, then noticed a crumpled sheet of paper in the corner of the compartment. Snatching it, he unwrinkled the parchment, shining the light over it. There were words written on the front, but the language wasn't English.

It was German.

And he
knew
German. Heck, his grandparents were from Germany. Berger was too, or so everyone thought. So...what did it mean, if anything? He squinted, trying to decipher the paper.

Another sound from upstairs. Footsteps.

And they were moving...

Jimmy was nearly hysterical, and he went towards one of the windows, messing with the latch, but Rusty continued to read, the glimmer of an explanation forming in his mind.

"This mentions the Brocken Mountain back in the old country. Germany."

Jimmy ignored him, prying open the window and starting to scramble up. "Come
on
…"

"This rock is supposedly a piece of an old ring of stones from there. I know the history. The locals say the place is home to witches. The Hartz Witches. And Berger brought it back with him...wait a second. That's it. This thing holds some power, and he taps into it. It makes sense, I mean, I don't understand how, but…"

He stopped as the footsteps were in the kitchen now.

Near the doorway.

Jimmy was already outside, his feet kicking madly for purchase, and Rusty knew it seemed the smart thing for
him
to be doing as well. But his skin grew cold as Jimmy shouted in surprise.

And Rusty now knew they had
definitely
walked into a trap.

~ * ~

Jimmy fell backwards with a crash, knocking over a crate he'd used to climb through the window. Rusty moved over to help him, but his friend quickly recovered.

"The dwarf is out there…"

But Rusty's instincts had already told him this. And the footsteps upstairs could only mean one thing -- the chase was finally up. There was no escape this time. They would have to confront Berger. Rusty understood it would be the last time as well. The stairs creaked as someone slowly came down. Next to him Jimmy was shaking, all his earlier bravery melted away. Rusty's mind scrambled madly as he tried to come up with a plan. The items. The stone. Berger. The Hartz Witches.

Low chuckling drifted down from the shadows, the sound full of malice and confidence.

"Rusty, he's got us. I don't want to be hypnotized again."

Or worse, Rusty thought.

"Yes, it's your turn now."

October is here and Halloween is coming,

Monsters will be coming after you.

Black and mean sneaks the witches' cat, gleaming eyes, a big dead rat.

Skeletons jump in a bony dance, goblins scream in an ugly prance.

Don't look now,

They're coming after you!

The song danced in Rusty's head, the childhood Halloween tune. He remembered sitting with a few of his friends on the carpet, the kindergarten teacher clapping and laughing, encouraging the youngsters to participate and sing along. Back then, he avoided singing, his head downcast. He didn't like the song, either the melody or the words. It had scared him. And years later, he came to the realization that some of the stories they told children were true....

"The game is over. It's time to join your friends and family, yes?"

No, not while he could still fight. Rusty looked at the rock, an idea coming to him. If only there was something...

"The night is growing long, we have things to do. Beyond the ocean in the old country, your family knew me then. You didn't know this, of course. But they served me well, just like you will do now."

That
really hurt. Rusty was frightened, but angry too. He scanned the floor for something he'd seen a few minutes ago. It was up to him to take action. Jimmy cowered against the wall, his eyes glassy. Maybe Berger was attempting to make the connection once more, bring the boy under his control. Desperately, Rusty flashed the beam across the room. Berger was nearly down the steps, and a small figure wriggled through the window.

Their old nemesis, Berger's evil companion.

Wait...there it was! A hammer lay partially concealed beneath some cardboard. It was twisted and rusted, but would have to do. He grabbed it, then hurried back to the trapdoor. Raising the tool over his head, he breathed a silent prayer that his idea would work, ignoring the possibility that something unexpected -- and considerably worse -- might happen. He needed to take that chance. There were no other options.

His first blow landed hard, but off-center. A small piece of the rock chipped off, flying in the air and skidding to the bottom of the stairs, right at Berger's feet. A look of surprise crossed the old man's face. Genuine surprise. And fear.

Again Rusty struck the stone, sending small fragments in every direction.

"Stop him!"

The dwarf made a horrible gurgling sound, then dove straight at Rusty's feet.

"Jimmy, help get this creep away from me."

But his friend seemed locked in stone himself, his arms dangling uselessly at his sides. The dwarf tried to knock him down, and Rusty kicked him in the face several times. From the corner of his eye, Rusty saw Berger reach into his cloak, drawing out a wicked looking knife. He knew that Berger meant to finish him off. The game was
really
over.