Dave held his breath as the gorgeous blonde opened the basement door, and started down the steps. Fatal Vacation wasn’t really that scary, but he came embarrassingly close to screaming as the axe murderer hurtled out of the shadows. Of course it didn’t really matter if he screamed. That was one of the advantages of being alone in theater five. He could talk back to the characters on the screen, and no one would tap him on the shoulder to complain that he was spoiling the movie for them. He could boo when something dumb happened, and he could cheer when the hero saved his girlfriend. He could change seats as many times as he wanted, and he could even stand up in the front row if he needed to stretch his legs. If he wanted to smoke, he could light up. If he felt like drinking, he could have a cold sixpack right next to him on the seat. And if he had a girl with him, they could even . . .
Dave groaned out loud. He really shouldn’t think about that. He’d only get frustrated. Diana was with Jay, Cindy was with Paul, and the only girl left was Heather. There was no way that Dave wanted to get mixed up with Heather. She was still dumping on guys, just like she’d done in high school.
Thinking about Heather made Dave feel a little guilty. He really shouldn’t have brought up all that old stuff from high school. His psych professor had said it was healthy to vent your anger, but not at someone else’s expense. Sure, he’d apologized, but he shouldn’t have jumped all over her in front of everyone else. Heather couldn’t really help the way she was. A child’s personality developed early, and Heather had been pampered since the day she was born. She was Daddy’s little girl, and she’d always had everything she’d ever wanted. Heather still thought she could have everything she wanted. And right now, she wanted Jay.
Dave sighed. He really felt sorry for Heather. He could see the writing on the wall, and he knew she was in for a shock. Heather still believed she could get Jay back, but she couldn’t. He’d seen Jay and Diana together, and there was real chemistry between them. Heather might not know it, but she had lost. What would she do when she found out?
Dave considered the various options. Heather might cope by using denial, telling herself that she hadn’t really wanted Jay in the first place. She could also rationalize the whole thing by saying that if Jay was interested in someone like Diana, he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. But what if Heather couldn’t cope with Jay’s rejection? What would happen then? She could become terribly depressed, perhaps even suicidal. If that happened, she’d need help.
There was a smile on Dave’s face as he contemplated how grateful Heather would be when he offered to help her. He’d no longer be the guy she’d turned down when she was in high school. He’d be her dearest friend, and she would see him in a totally new light. She might even experience transference.
Dave’s smile grew wider. Transference was a psychological term referring to the special kind of relationship that often existed between a psychologist and his patient. Heather would come to think of him as the most important person in her life. And he would be. Perhaps she’d even grow to love him, just like he’d loved her all these years.
There was a scream, and Dave was rudely snapped out of his fantasy. The blonde looked terrified as she faced the axe murderer, and Dave felt her panic as he stared at the evil glint in the madman’s eyes. The scene was so real, he actually shouted. “Don’t just stand there! Run for your life!”
It was almost as if the blonde had heard him, because she whirled around and started to run. There was a chase through a parking lot, the madman slashing at her with his axe. But this was no ordinary dumb blonde. She crawled under a tarp on a pickup truck, and hid there while he passed by.
The scene switched to police headquarters where a handsome man was trying to convince a grizzled police sergeant that his girlfriend was in terrible danger. Dave tuned out, and leaned back in his seat again, reaching out for a handful of popcorn. It was a real kick watching this movie all by himself. It was his private showing and they were running it just for him.
Now the blonde was back on the screen, peeking out through the tarp at the parking lot. The axe murderer was still out there, lying in wait by the side of a camper, but she didn’t know it. She started to wiggle out from under the tarp and Dave shivered. He loved thrillers, but it gave him a creepy feeling to be the only one in the darkened theater. Every sound was magnified, and he felt as if he were actually part of the movie.
“Don’t do it! He’s right by that camper!” Dave shouted out another warning, but this time the blonde didn’t listen. She dropped to the pavement, and began to inch her way past the parked cars, straight for the camper where the madman was hiding.
The music began to build, and Dave held his breath. Then the madman jumped out, and the blonde screamed. They’d probably cast her for her ability to scream. It was the best movie scream Dave had ever heard.
“Run!” Dave knew he was being ridiculous by shouting instructions at the blonde on the screen, but this movie was getting to him. He could feel his heart pounding in fear as the blonde whirled and ran toward the building. She tried one door, but it was locked. And then another. And another. The fourth door opened, and she slipped inside, locking it quickly behind her.
But the maniac killer had seen her duck into the building! He tugged at the door for a moment, and then hurled himself at the wooden surface. No luck. The door held firm. Dave knew what was coming, but he still gasped as the mad killer picked up his axe, and swung it at the door with a horrible thud.
Wood splintered as the madman repeatedly struck the door with his axe. The blonde stared at the shattering door for a moment and then she turned to run. Dave could see that she was in an empty theater, a theater a lot like this one. She emerged from behind the darkened screen, and raced for the seats to huddle down behind them as the madman battered at the wooden door. The lock wouldn’t keep him out for very long. The maniac was chopping the door into matchsticks.
Dave glanced behind him. The blonde on the screen was hiding behind the seventh row, exactly where he was sitting. He clenched his fists and resisted the urge to actually get up and run as the door splintered, and the murderer hurtled into the theater.
There was an ominous undertone to the music now. It was growing louder and louder, and Dave actually covered his eyes and peeked out through his fingers as the madman approached the back of the screen. He knew it was only a movie, but the setting was so real, Dave felt as if he was in terrible danger.
The madman wasn’t after him. He wanted the blonde. Dave tried to remember that, as the insane killer came closer and closer, his demented expression filling the screen.
The axe whistled down with a mighty force, and Dave gasped. But it struck the back of the screen, slitting it neatly. The blonde was whimpering, huddling beneath the seat, and Dave felt like whimpering, too.
And then the killer was there, coming up the aisle, stalking his prey. Dave hunched down in his seat, and winced as he came closer and closer. He was almost at the seventh row now, the row where he was sitting. And then the movie became reality as Dave felt the killer’s heavy hand on his shoulder.
Dave screamed as loud as he could. He was too scared to run, but his head swiveled around and his eyes were wide with fright. And then he came back to the real world with a rush as he saw one of the guys in a Santa suit, standing behind him.
“Jesus! You scared the hell out of me!” Dave’s voice was shaking. “What are you doing in that suit, anyway?”
“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa smiled, and shook his head.
“Oh, I get it. You got bored watching movies, and you decided to walk around to all the theaters and make a personal appearance. Is that right?”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
Santa just kept smiling, and Dave smiled back. “Okay . . . let me see if I can figure out who you are. Jay?”
Santa was still smiling, but he shook his head. Dave tried again. “Larry?”
Again, Santa shook his head. Dave nodded, and began to laugh. “Hal! I should have known it! You look good in that suit, guy!”
But Santa shook his head again, and Dave frowned. “Paul? What did you do? Get tired of taping and try on one of our suits?”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
Santa was clearly amused at Dave’s failure to identify him, but Dave was beginning to get freaked. Then he remembered the girls, and he started to grin. One of them had decided to get in the act and put on a Santa suit. With all that padding, and the mustache and beard, a girl could play Santa and no one would know it.
The lights in the theater were dim, and Dave couldn’t really tell who it was, but he decided that Cindy was the most likely candidate. She’d told him that she hated her elf costume. And she was always claiming that women could do anything that men could do. It would be just like Cindy to dress up in one of their Santa suits to prove that she could play Santa as well as a guy.
“You’re right, Cindy.” Dave grinned as he nodded. “You make a perfect Santa. You’ve got the voice down perfectly. And that’s why you won’t say anything except Ho, ho, ho . . . right?”
But Santa’s head shook from side to side, and Dave raised his eyebrows. “You’re not Cindy?”
Again, Santa indicated that Dave was wrong, and Dave gave a deep sigh. “Okay . . . if you’re not Cindy, you have to be . . . Diana!”
The minute he said it, Dave knew he was right. Jay had probably talked Diana into dressing up in his costume to see if she could fool them. And she had. She made a perfect Santa.
“Did you go to any of the other theaters?” Dave grinned as Santa indicated no. “So I’m the guinea pig, huh? You figured if you could get by me, you could fool everybody else. Come on, Diana. Take off the wig. I know it’s you.”
“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa laughed again, and indicated that Dave was wrong. “Ho, ho, ho!”
“Okay. You’re not Diana.” Dave began to grin. If Santa wasn’t Diana, there was only one person left. “You really fooled me, Heather. But why are you playing Santa? I thought you really got off on being the Christmas Angel.”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
Santa shook his head again, and Dave frowned deeply. “Now, wait a minute. There’s only eight of us out here. If you’re not one of us, who the hell are you?!”
“Ho, ho, ho!”
This time, Santa’s voice sounded very ominous, and Dave began to feel the first stirrings of panic. Santa was standing very close to him, so close that he seemed ready to pounce. There was a horrible scream from the loudspeakers. The maniac axe murderer had found the blonde, but Dave didn’t dare glance at the screen, not with Santa grinning at him. It was an evil grin, a grin that scared Dave so much, he would have bolted from his seat and run for his life if he’d been able to get past the looming figure of Santa.
“Hey, whoever you are, you look great.” Dave knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t help it. He had to keep Santa talking until he could figure out some way to escape. He sat up a little straighter in his seat, and wondered if he was fast enough to leap over the row of seats.
Dave took a deep breath, all prepared to chance it. And then, before he could move a muscle, Santa turned on his heel and walked back up the aisle again, going out through the exit.
“Jesus!” Dave let out his breath in a shuddering sigh of relief. His knees were shaking, and he was dripping sweat. The Santa he’d seen had really scared him.
The blonde was screaming on the screen again, and Dave felt like screaming, too. Some nut had waltzed right into the theater, dressed up in a Santa suit. He wasn’t sure what the strange Santa had wanted, but it couldn’t be good.
The blonde screamed again as Dave pulled himself to his feet. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide with horror, but it seemed insignificant now that Dave realized that the Santa he’d seen wasn’t one of their group.
As Dave hurried up the aisle, the music built to a swelling crescendo, but Dave didn’t turn to look back. The movie was tame compared to what was actually happening out here at the mall!
Santa was nowhere in sight as Dave peeked out the exit. The lights were on in the lobby, and he could see that no one was there. The thought of walking across the lobby made his knees start to shake again. Santa could be hiding behind the refreshment counter, or lurking in one of the alcoves that lined the walls. What if Santa jumped out to tackle him as he walked by? The thought scared him half to death.
Dave took a deep breath and prepared to move. He couldn’t stay here, hiding in the theater like some kind of coward. There was safety in numbers, and he was all alone. He had to get them all together so that they could search for this weird Santa, and find out who he was and what he wanted.
Where should he go first? Dave tried to remember what movies they’d all decided to watch. Larry had gone to the Madonna movie, but that was playing in theater one, all the way across the lobby. Cindy and Paul had said they were going to watch Guts, but that was in theater three and it also meant he’d have to walk across the lobby, alone. Hal was watching some sci-fi thing, and Dave had no idea where that was playing. And Jay and Diana had left without mentioning which movie they’d chosen.
Heather. Dave’s face turned white as he realized that Heather was all alone in theater six. Santa could be in there right now, terrorizing her. It was up to him. He had to save the woman he loved. And he did love Heather, despite her faults. He’d loved her for years and she didn’t even know it!
The thought of Heather screaming in fear drove Dave nearly insane. He didn’t need the others. He’d save her himself.
Dave took a deep breath, and opened the door all the way. No one in sight. He was about to step out to head for theater six, when all the lights in the lobby went out. The only illumination came from the very front of the lobby, where it faced the mall. But Dave was at the back, where the shadows were deep and menacing.
Over the sound of his heart hammering loud in his chest, Dave heard a scream. Was it the blonde from his movie? Or was it Heather?! Standing here, quaking in fear, wouldn’t give him the answer. He had to go to theater six and find out.
His eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark as he inched his way along the wall until the refreshment stand was right in front of him. The ready light on the popcorn machine was on and it cast an eerie red glow over the darkened counter. The deep-fat fryer was also plugged in, and Dave could smell the odor of fat heating up for french fries.
It would be stupid to face Santa unarmed, and Dave ducked behind the counter to find a weapon. There were piles of napkins and packets of salt stored on the shelves behind the counter, but they were useless. He could forget the plastic knives and forks, too. They’d only break. But there was a metal box right under the hot dog grill and that looked promising. It was filled with hot dog skewers and one of them would make a nasty weapon.
Dave grabbed one of the sharply pointed metal rods, and stood up. He was armed and ready to save Heather. But as he turned to leave the counter, he got a nasty shock. There was a large, bulky figure standing at the end of the counter. Santa was here! And the evil grin on Santa’s face was enough to make Dave’s teeth start to chatter in fright.
As Santa hurtled forward, Dave didn’t have time to think. He just reacted and stabbed out with the skewer. The sharp metal point speared Santa in the stomach, but the costume was heavily padded. Santa just laughed as he pulled out the skewer, tossing it to the floor with a clatter. And then he lunged at Dave with a fierce growl.
Dave opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn’t. The air whooshed out of his lungs as Santa knocked him into the counter with a powerful tackle. And then Santa was shoving him along the long counter, straight for the popcorn machine at the end.
He tried to fight back, grabbing handfuls of the red velvet suit, but Santa had the strength of a maniac. Dave gasped for air, but he was wheezing so badly, he couldn’t seem to draw any oxygen into his tortured lungs. The red light on the popcorn machine loomed larger and larger as Santa barreled him toward it. And then Santa gave a mighty shove, and stepped back. But Dave was going too fast to catch his balance. He slipped on some water that had been spilled on the floor and stumbled against the popcorn machine’s metal surface.
There was a deafening crack, and sparks flew to light up the darkened interior of the lobby. But Dave didn’t hear the crack. And he didn’t see the sparks. His body spasmed as two hundred and twenty volts arced through his body, and the person who had been Dave Atkin only moments before, fell to the floor in a smoldering heap of charred flesh.
Santa stepped over the body and grabbed the broom that stood at the corner of the counter. He quickly chopped at the wires that had run from the deep-fat fryer to the popcorn machine, and severed them cleanly. He tucked the wires in his pocket, and then he walked to the box on the wall behind the counter, clicking the circuit breaker back in place. But he didn’t turn the lights back on. That would ruin Santa’s grisly surprise.
There was a smile on Santa’s face as he hurried out into the mall. There was plenty of time to change into his street clothes. The movies still had at least twenty minutes to run. He’d be just as shocked as everyone else when they discovered Dave’s body.
As he changed out of his costume, he anticipated what they would say. What a terrible accident. There must have been a short in the circuit, something wrong with the wiring. Poor Dave. If only he hadn’t spilled that water on the floor and then touched the metal cabinet of the popcorn machine.
Only Santa knew that it hadn’t been an accident. He’d punished Dave deliberately, because he’d been bad. Santa was keeping a list of all the bad boys and girls, just the way it said in the song. And there would be more accidents and more deaths before Santa was finished with his work.