Level Zero by Dan McDowell (debian ebook reader .txt) 📗

“What a strange little woman…” Todd said. “What do you think about the view? It gives a whole new perspective on Riverton, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does, Don,” she said, grinning ear to ear, reaching to grab him by the hand.

Todd looked at Katrina, “You mean… Todd.”

Katrina looked back at him with an unfamiliar gaze. “Call me Sylvia.”

What’s going on here?

“Fair enough, Sylvia. I made us a ‘special’ mimosa. Drink up…”

She leaned in to kiss him.

“Can I teach you the controls? Why don’t you steer the plane for a little while? I’ll help you.”

“Never when I’m manic, honey… Never when I’m manic,” a voice called from behind.

A pair of burned arms came over the back of the seat and began strangling Todd. Katrina panicked, attempting to rip them away from Todd’s neck. Lorrie emerged from the back seat of the plane. Her maimed and disfigured body was a testament to the flames from her plummeting descent with Todd and an act of God saving them both. She reached for the plane’s control column as the plane dropped toward Riverton.

“Do you believe in second chances?” Lorrie asked.

“I do…” he gargled, his airway still recovering from the momentary strangling.

“Know the pain. It will be sweeter.” She smiled, easing up on the control column. She opened the hatch door from the rear and leapt out of the plane as air rushed through the cabin. Katrina wrapped her arms around Todd in terror as the suction grew stronger. She hugged him tight while the Percocet and lithium mimosa cocktail she sipped on took hold.

“What’s going on, Todd? Why am I feeling this way?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart. You’ll find out soon enough.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

RAMBLIN’ RON prepped to turn in his keys to WGBO, packing the rest of his belongings as he removed the final Dynamic Duds poster. Detective Penske opted not to turn him in for unlawful entry into a

municipal vehicle in exchange for the information provided.

He walked past the new receptionist. “I’ll see you later, Nancy. Tell the new guy I said to break a leg tonight.”

“He’s already in STUDIO B if you want to tell him yourself…” She hurled a Reese’s peanut butter cup in her mouth.

Ron shook his head as he noted the silhouette of a hunched figure behind the hallway glass.

“Na. I don’t want to give him any bad mojo with his new job. See you later.”

“Bye, Ron. Good luck.”

As he walked toward the bus stop, flames engulfed the once pastel Creepy Nights building as a small plane dangled from the side of the building. Sirens surrounded as first-responders worked to put out the fire.

Ron ran back to the studio. The ON AIR sign activated as a voice came through the speaker.

“There’s an interesting development in Riverton, folks. In what we can identify as a plane crash with an excess of collateral damage, the once hallowed and iconic hotel continues to blaze. It’s not looking good. The Oak Hollow Hotel... now known as Chris Wilkerson’s Creepy Nights, may turn to rubble before our very eyes. Unfortunate as it is to see this fine institution up in flames; it is something of a poetic justice, isn’t it? The place best known for telling scary stories itself ends in a scary story. We’ll catch you later on the next edition of WGBO’s newest show, Total… Madness.”

.     .     .     .     .

The mortician prepped CHRIS WILKERSON with similar care to that of Helena Reinhold. Lying on the table, motionless but alert, Chris remained stuck in a transitory state of being. Despite multiple attempts to seal and cover his eyelids with more makeup, the glow underneath shined bright.

“Can’t get them to look right. What’s going on here?”

Tapping echoed across the room from the back door.

“I’m not expecting anyone,” he muttered, stomping his feet across the floor.

He moved toward the door as another series of taps grew louder.

Opening the door, a round-figured man in a top-hat stood outside smoking a cigar and holding a pewter cup full of liquid.

“Hello there. I’m here to tend to some unfinished business. Do you mind if I come in?”

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dan McDowell developed an appetite for writing thrilling and chilling stories to escape the left-brained confines of Corporate America and dive headfirst into the right-brained universe of fiction. He and his family reside near San Antonio, TX.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Did you enjoy the book? Leave a review online, tell or share it with a friend, and don’t be afraid to tap into your right brain from time to time yourself. It’s okay to let your imagination run wild. You have my permission.

Creep On!

Dan McDowell

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