FEARFUL: Scary Stories of the Evil App

18

Once I revealed my idea to C.J., a nagging feeling in my gut confirmed what I suspected: this was all kinds of wrong. I would never do something that could hurt me or someone else, otherwise, I wouldn't be any different to the monster I was fighting. But I was desperate.

"Don't do this, S," C.J. said. "It's too dangerous. Over."

I gave the sprinkler head descending from the ceiling another look, and I imagined a faint whiff of smoke in the air. If I had matches or a lighter, I could produce a tiny flame to activate the alarm, and people would have to evacuate the building. But this required actual fire, and my every instinct warned me against that.

"You're right. I'll—"

The odor of burning cables grew stronger, and I wrinkled my nose, realizing I wasn't imagining the smell.

Then, I felt something scuttling between my legs, and I glimpsed two mice scampering along the floor. What they were escaping from chilled my blood—there was a green, flickering light floating a few feet away from me. No. Not floating. A black figure was holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

"S, what happened? Over."

Since the lights were off, only a thin ray of sunlight came through the window at the other end of the storage room.

When the dark silhouette came into focus, I dropped the walkie-talkie and gasped for breath. If I was already fighting the Wendigo, then what was this friggin' thing? Was there more than one monster? Was this what Kara had told us about? And why was he here?

With my heart beating so loudly I could barely hear myself think, my mind struggled to remember what they'd called this creature that day in the park.

Then, a scared whisper left my lips: "X-Machina."

"Children should. Never! Play with—fire."

The cloaked figure's voice sounded like Grandpa's old stereo tuning into different radio stations. Every word he spoke seemed to come from old broadcasts.

"Esau, are you there? Over!" C.J. insisted.

The green flame coiling from X-Machina's fingers rose. "Hellfire. To. Burn! The Fugitives."

Soon, his gloved hand was ablaze, and I saw him more clearly.

Before me, the thin man was wearing a black cloak made of cables that slithered like live snakes around his body. The hood that covered his head reminded me of the Ghost of Christmas-Yet-to-Come from the movies Dad and I watched during the holidays. For some reason, I tried to make out his features, but there was only TV static where his face should be.

"Backstage," he said, raising his hand aflame. "Turn it—off."

I squeezed my eyelids tight, waiting for his attack, but instead, the fire alarm went off, and water flowed from the sprinkler head above like heavy rain. When I opened my eyes again, X-Machina had vanished.

Without a second thought, I ran out the door.

* * *

When I got back upstairs, the crowds were evacuating the Convention Center. Everyone was heading for the exits except me.

X-Machina's voice echoed in my mind: "Backstage. Turn it off."

Even if the fire alarm had rung before the Wendigo Virus had infected anyone, I still had to deal with Appalling. And something inside of me told me this was my only chance to do it.

Backstage. Turn it off.

To end to this madness, maybe I had to listen to one monster to stop another. X-Machina could have roasted me like a chicken, but he didn't. Was he on my side? Now was not the time to think about it.

I elbowed and shouldered my way through the torrent of people heading outside. Someone grabbed me by the wrist and pointed toward the emergency exit, but I shook off their grip and ran for it as soon as I saw an opening. All my thoughts revolved around getting backstage.

As if in a trance and guided by pure instinct, I made a right, then a left, and bolted down a narrow hall. Finally, I threw open a door that said 'Staff Only,' and I ended up behind the main stage, surrounded by a mess of equipment and rear screen projectors.

There, soaking wet from the sprinklers, I stopped and looked around, trying not to stumble over the cables on the floor.

Now what? How was I supposed to find Appalling? Chances were my third twin had left with Mom, or someone escorted him out of the building! How could I have been so dumb?

It was a fact. I'd never find Appalling.

But as fate would have it, he would soon find me.