Out Are the Lights Read Free Page A

make Pete uneasy.
        'Isn't he a charmer?' Brit whispered, 'I think he's overdoing it.' She hugged Pete's arm. 'Scared you, didn't he?'
        'He looks like someone I used to know.'
        'Oh?'
        Pete nodded, and wished he hadn't brought it up. 'How about some popcorn, or Bon Bons, or something?'
        'Do you think I dare?'
        'You're skin and bones.'
        She leaned against him, nudging him again with that breast. 'Do you prefer your women plump?'
        'Plump and juicy. I'm having popcorn and a Pepsi, how about you?'
        'I'll have a hot dog.'
        Pete laughed. 'Are you serious?'
        'A plump, juicy hot dog.' She licked her lips. 'I can almost taste it now.'
        He bought the snacks from another pale girl in a Schreck T-shirt.
        
***
        
        The auditorium was dimly lit.
        'Hey, it looks like a castle,' Brit said.
        'The Haunted Palace.'
        'Pretty neat.'
        'Where do you want to sit?' Pete asked.
        'A little closer, I think.'
        'An aisle seat all right? I like to stretch out my legs.' He switched to his W. C. Fields voice. 'Trip the little bastards as they toddle by.'
        'Oh, you're terrible!'
        'It's better than my Bogart.'
        'That's not…' Laughing, she shook him by the arm.
        'Don't rip it off.'
        'Come on.' She pulled him toward a seat.
        He went along with her, amused but irritated. If he saw more of her, after tonight, he would have to straighten her out on a few items. For now, though, he wouldn't try to criticize her unless she got unbearable. Dragging him like a leashed dog nearly qualified, but he held off.
        'Are these all right?' she asked, once they were seated.
        'Fine.'
        She unwrapped her hot dog. 'Now, tell me. Who did the fat man remind you of?'
        'He reminded me of the bird. The black bird, and a beautiful dame, and-'
        'Right, your Bogart stinks.'
        The lights dimmed, saving Pete from a reply.
        On the screen, he saw a fog-shrouded forest. A terrible scream brought silence to the theater. Something moved among the trees. Slowly, the dim figure of a man appeared. He limped forward through the fog.
        The fat man who'd taken the tickets.
        He wore the same tan slacks, the same sleeveless T-shirt. They streamed with blood. In his right hand, he held a hatchet dripping gore. A nylon stocking distorted his face.
        'Good evening,' he said. 'Welcome to the Haunted Palace.'
        'Freaky,' Brit whispered.
        'I am your host, Bruno Blood.'
        Laughter in the audience.
        'Each night, I shall bring you a feast of hideous delights, tales of horror to make you cringe and scream. You'll see all the best in grisly entertainment. Not only the latest gems of satanic morbidity, but also the great classics of the past. In weeks to come, I shall bring you such fare as Halloween , Freaks , The Hills Have Eyes , Rabid , The Texas Chain Saw Massacre , and The Night of the Living Dead .'
        Whistles and applause greeted his announcement. He held up his bloody hatchet for silence, as if he foresaw the audience reaction.
        'Plus!' he bellowed. In a soft and menacing voice, he continued. 'Plus a special treat available only at the Haunted Palace. Each night, in addition to the regular features, you'll witness the evil, delicious exploits of Otto Schreck, the madman-a new depravity each and every week.'
        The audience roared with yells, whistles, and applause. A lot of regulars, Pete figured.
        'Schreck must be quite a guy,' Brit whispered in his ear.
        Pete shrugged.
        'And now,' Bruno said, 'prepare yourself for tonight's show. Sit back, take hold of a friendly hand, and…' He grinned. 'Don't look to see who is sitting behind you.'
        The audience went wild as Bruno turned, and slowly limped away until he vanished in the fog.
        The