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Halloween House "I'm sorry; there's no vacancy tonight," Connie, the motel
manager, said. "Didn't you see the sign?" Rob Johnson exchanged glances with his wife, Jill, and groaned. "We
did," he said. "But we thought we'd check anyway, and the
fog was so thick we didn't want to risk driving further. So we hoped..."
He shrugged, not finishing the sentence. "It's Halloween Eve, the beginning of our Halloween festival,"
Connie explained. "Hundreds of tourists have arrived for the holiday.
I can call around, but I think all the motels will be full." "Jesus," Rob muttered. He looked at Jill. "We just can't
drive on in this." "Wait a minute," Connie said, snapping her fingers. "I
heard there was a cancellation at the Halloween House. You could try
there." "Halloween House?" Jill asked. Connie picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Ezekiel?"
she said into the mouthpiece. "It's Connie over at the Motel Bates
Lodge. I've got a couple stranded in this god-forsaken weather for the
night, but somebody told me your guests canceled?" She paused for
a moment. "Oh, great. Works out for you, too, then. I'll send them
over." She hung up the phone. "It's all set. You just continue down Main
Street here, to Centivore Avenue. Turn right. Only house on the road,
a stone's throw up. Can't miss it. Ezekiel will meet you there." Rob looked at Jill again. "What's the Halloween House?" he
asked, puzzled. "Halloween House," Connie repeated. "A haunted house,
a tourist attraction. During our festival, they run a Frights Challenge.
If you stick it out until seven in the morning, you get your money back
and a prize. If you bail out before, it only costs you the night's rent." Rob frowned. Frights Challenge? "I don't think we have a choice, honey," Jill said. Might
be fun." "All right."
"I see it. Here's the driveway," Rob said. He pulled in and
shut the engine off. "This fog is really bad." They got out of the car and plucked their suitcases from the trunk.
The man from the porch met them in the driveway as they started for
the house. An older guy, Rob observed. Looks sinister in the fog. The
perfect ghoul for Halloween Eve. "Hi folks," he said in a raspy voice. "I'm Ezekiel.
Need lodgings for the night?" "And how," Rob said. He and Jill introduced themselves, and
then followed the old man along the walk to the porch, where he stopped
and pulled an object from his pocket. "This is the card-key to get in and out. It's the only way. If
you open the door from the inside at any time before seven tomorrow
morning, you forfeit the prize. Let's go in the house." Ezekiel slid the key into a slot, and the door clicked open. He led
them inside and flicked the hall light on. He doesn't seem so spooky in here, Rob thought, and the place didn't
look haunted. Just an ordinary furnished house.They set their suitcases
down in the foyer. "What's this all about?" Jill asked. "The motel manager
didn't really explain much." "Tragic story," Ezekiel said. "Fifty years ago, Janet
Jameson, wife of Richard Jameson, vanished into thin air, and the place
has been haunted by her spirit ever since. It's all in the brochures
you'll find in the parlor. Lodging is a hundred dollars for the night.
If you make it past seven, you get that back, plus another hundred.
If the front door lock is accessed from this side, the time is transmitted
to the tourist center in the town hall, right by the police station
on Main Street. You passed it on the way here. You claim your prize
there, if you make it. So, got a hundred, or a credit card?" Rob found enough cash in his wallet, counted out the bills, and handed
the money to Ezekiel, who gave him a receipt. "So that's it," Ezekiel said. "Oh, I hope you guys have
had dinner. You can't go back out after I leave without forfeiting." "Oh!" Jill said. "We forgot to bring in the deli stuff,
hon. I'll go get it." She didn't wait for Rob to offer to go. Doesn't
want to be alone with Ezekiel, he guessed. When Jill returned with the two deli bags, Ezekiel said, "Oh,
one more thing. There's candles, flashlights in the kitchen, should
there be trouble with the electricity, and don't, under any circumstances,
go down to the basement. Keep the basement door locked at all times." Rob looked at Jill and smiled. He'd already figured the gimmicks out.
This was going to be a cinch. But he played along. "What's in the
basement?" he asked. "That's where the centivore lurks. Believe me, you don't want
to meet up with that critter." He winked at both of them. Centivore? Rob thought. How corny. He stifled a laugh, then asked,
"Has anyone ever won the prize?" "No," Ezekiel said. "But we only do this twice a year."
He winked again, and said, "Well, good night folks, and good luck."
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