Fiend Zoned

Part 2

Becky always used to be one of the first women to arrive to a show. She'd been eager to show her dedication, her willingness to put in the work. Now she had to do so many interviews, promos, and product plugs that she was often the last one to get to the locker room and she ended up changing alone. So when she saw a familiar shock of black hair, she smiled. "Paige! No one told me you were going to be here tonight." Becky started setting her bag to the side so she could hug her friend. "Lots of people returning lately. How's things, baby girl?"

When Becky straightened up, though, she realized Paige hadn't replied. Was it actually Nikki and she hadn't noticed? Ready to apologize, she looked back over to the bench. It wasn't Paige. It wasn't Nikki either.

It wasn't human.

He told you to run, Rebecca. The voice rippled around her like waves. When a rabbit runs, there's a reason. There's something to be scared of. And you SHOULD be scared . . . baby girl.

Becky didn't move. She wasn't sure if the thing was a puppet or a marionette; she couldn't figure out where the voice was coming from. What she did know was that she didn't want to let it out of her sight as she reached for the door. Locked. She slowly pulled her phone from her pocket and, without shifting her gaze, called Seth. "Hey, babe." He sounded almost bubbly. "Miss me already?"

"I need you to come to the women's locker room," Becky said quickly. Had the doll moved? She was sure it was closer to the wall before.

Seth laughed. "I thought we weren't doing the locker room stuff anymore, Becks. Nearly half the roster's walked in on us by now—"

"Not that," Becky snapped. Yeah, the doll had definitely moved. And she was certain those daisies hadn't been on the floor before. "The door's locked. I can't get out."

"Huh. That's weird. Sure. I'll find someone with keys and be right there."

A second. Maybe two. Becky had barely glanced down at her phone to end the call, but when she looked up again, the doll was at the end of the bench closest to her. She tried to concentrate on listening, but she couldn't hear any mechanical whirring. How was it moving? Rebecca, you need to GO. The voice seemed to echo in Becky's head.

"I'm trying," she muttered, yanking on the door handle again. Still locked. She could hear people in the corridor walking past and thought about calling for help, but she already felt silly for calling Seth. It was a doll. Surely it wasn't really moving. It was just a combination of an overactive mind running on not enough sleep.

Rebecca. . . .

Becky refused to budge, not wanting the doll—or her imagined version of it, whatever it was—to get any closer. When she finally heard a key jiggle in the lock, she swore under her breath. "About time." Her phone was creaking in her death grip and she made herself shove it back in her pocket.

When the lock finally caught, someone knocked on the door. "Becks?" Seth called out. The maintenance staff probably knocked as a matter of protocol.

"Yeah, come in." Becky kept staring down the doll. It seemed to have edged back a bit. "Someone left that in here," she began, pointing at the bench, "and—"

Frowning, Seth stepped forward, and Becky reached for his arm to stop him. "A flower?" he asked, picking up a plastic daisy and twirling it between his fingers.

"What? No. I mean, yes, there were, but. . . ." It was a relatively small locker room and Becky's gaze swept over it twice, but there was no sign of the doll—not beyond the flower, anyway. "The door was locked, right?"

"Yeah. . . . " Seth dropped the flower and pulled her close. "Becks, you okay? You haven't been sleeping well lately. . . ."

"I'm—" Becky stopped herself before saying fine. First there was that abandoned toy at the signing, and now the creepy doll in the locker room. "Can you just stay here while I get ready, please? I'll be quick."

Seth looked like he wanted to say something, but he just nodded and tossed the plastic daisy in the garbage before leaning against the wall. When Becky was done, he pulled her into a hug. "If you think someone's messing with you," he began, "let's just go talk to Steph. I'm sure there's some unused rooms backstage we can use as a temporary locker room tonight, and we can shower back at the hotel. . . ."

Becky shook her head. "No, you're right. It's probably just lack of sleep." She gave him a quick kiss before pinching his ass. "You'd better go get ready. You're on before I am."

"Maybe you should come with me," he teased, tugging on her hand, "just in case my door gets locked too."

"Nice try." Becky walked with him, though, and waited outside the locker room, and the rest of the night was so uneventful, so typical, that she had almost completely forgot about the incident in her locker room—until she opened her bag back at the hotel when Seth was in the shower, and a cluster of dead daisies tumbled out to the floor.