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I’m here to work on the Space Fiction floor.”

“Space Fiction? I didn’t know…”

“Chris told me he had it ready for me,” Katrina lied.

Nancy bit her lip and said, “Okay. Yeah. Go ahead. It’s just behind me.”

She took a deep breath and prepared to push the door to the area open. When she looked back, Nancy picked up the phone and whispered.

Inner turmoil had overtaken Katrina since her awakening as Sylvia buried herself deeper into her troubled psyche.

Why am I even doing this? This guy is nothing but a hassle.

She studied the room, noting its refreshed look, and the modernized call center setup.

Looks pretty close to standards by my estimation. Fine… I’ll give it a shot. Why do I feel so peaceful right now? It makes no sense. My mind at rest… in here, of all places?

Chris rolled around the corner in an office chair from an adjacent cubicle space. ”Hey, it’s nice to see you again. You’re a few days early, but I’ve got no qualms with that.”

“I’m not sure I can do this. My gut told me to, but my heart’s just not right. I don’t want to be here with you at your company.”

“Katrina, I told you. It’s our company. Stiffen that upper lip and toughen up.”

Damn. He knows me too well. I can’t quit now. He never forced me to do anything.

“Okay, so explain this to me then,” she said. “I know you’re telling scary stories, but how does it work?”

He clasped his hands together and unclasped them twice before looking at the ceiling and responding.

“Look at me!” she yelled.

“Oh… Well, it’s easy. We tell genre-specific spooky stories. Like the paid ‘900’ numbers, only the focus is on scaring people, nothing else. I don’t tolerate any other kind of thing around here. We’re a classy club for classy people. We link each floor number to an option on the telephone. Look at this flyer…”

CREEPY NIGHTS

5454 Oak Hollow Lane, Riverton, TX, 78731

CHOOSE FROM ANY ONE OF OUR OPTIONS BELOW!

Option/Level One- “Space Fiction”

Option/Level Two- “Creature Features”

Option/Level Three- “Body Horror”

Option/Level Four- “Manic Panic”

Option/Level Five- “Campy Corny”

Option/Level Six- “Apocalypse and Alternate Reality”

Option/Level Seven- “Surprise and Scare”

1-800-SCARE ME

Call us today for the thrill of your life for only 99 cents a minute.

CREEPY NIGHTS provides original, scary stories 100% of the time, or we’ll give your money back. We guarantee it!

Katrina smirked as she studied the flyer. “You don’t have much of an eye for design, do you? You called these folks ‘classy’ people? Classy creeps, you mean? Look at this place. It seems like you’re making some progress, but I’m not sure about the posters. I’m going to freeze you out of mom’s trust fund. How much have you squandered in here?”

“A lot less than you think. Katrina, this is your floor. You change it up however you like. Just set it up to inspire stories. Remember, none of that space opera crap, just scary stuff. That’s my only ask.”

“I understand… but if this is our company, I’ll bend the rules as I see fit, and you will tolerate it. Otherwise, I’m gone. I can run this place straight into the ground, force bankruptcy, or take it over easily if that’s what I want to do. It’s a good idea — but it will soon be mine if you as much as screw a single thing up.”

“Katrina, you are calling the shots. This floor is all yours, baby. I’ll give you the ‘space’ you need to do your space thing. Partners? We’ll shake on it.”

Did this jackass just call me baby?

She reached out to Chris’s hand, pushing it away.

“Partners… temporarily. Let’s regroup in a couple of weeks.”

“Sounds like a plan. Here’s a key. Take one of the basement apartments if you don’t want to go all the way home. That’s totally your call.”

“Why don’t you walk me down like a proper gentleman? You used to be…”

“Sure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Chris and KATRINA WILKERSON conversed as they explored the basement. The lighting was minimal and its musty smell lingered. Wood panel walls choked all life from the corridor as old church pews lined empty spaces in disorder. Katrina noted six apartment spaces and another unmarked room.

“Are we going to pay someone to clean this mess up down here? This place could be a lot nicer with some elbow grease. It’s obvious we’ve had some dead animals in here at some point. Ugh.”

“We? I like the sound of that. I reckon I’ll get around to it… eventually.”

“I bet you will.” She scoffed. “I hear you’re quite the philanthropist now - cleaning up the riff-raff downtown. Anyone else free-loading down here yet? You were always too nice for the wrong reasons.”

“Too kind. That’s a loaded question.”

“What?”

“Forget it. You’re the only one.”

Why won’t you look at me? Something’s not right.

“Okay?”

“Don’t you remember? When this place was a hotel, the staff quarters were located here. I told you I’ve been sleeping up top. Level Eight is my floor.”

“Yeah. Stay in your penthouse and leave your lovely ex-wife to rot in the basement with possum corpses and vagrants. You’re so sweet.”

Chris didn’t react to the comments and continued, “I have a couch, a refrigerator. Nancy gets me take out. I don’t really need to leave anymore. Not only that, I’ve got this killer sound system. I mean, why should I leave, you know?”

I can’t take it anymore. You annoy me, and I annoy you.

“Okay,” Katrina said. “We’re not that casual these days, are we? No point in faking it. I don’t need every waking detail of your life. I guess I’m happy that you are happy. Let’s get a couple of weeks under our belt, and we’ll evaluate from there.”

“I’ll leave you to explore. I need to go check on some things upstairs. Let me know if you need anything. Thanks,” Chris said.

What else is down here? Are you hiding something?

Katrina made her way into each of the dusty and unclaimed apartments before claiming one as her own. She gathered cleaning supplies, hoping to tidy up. Walking

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