I spun on my heel and placed my hands on my hips, squaring my shoulders as I narrowed my gaze and screwed up the courage to say, “Just what is it that you’re trying to prove here, anyway?” Hoping he couldn’t see the way my limbs all trembled and shook.
He crept closer, eyes glowing like crazy, mouth gaping wider—wider than I ever would’ve thought possible—as he closed the gap between us with surprising speed. Those angry, hot orbs practically singeing the brows off my face as he leaned toward me and shook the snakes loose from his head. Freeing hundreds of slimy, red-eyed, three-headed, angrily snapping snakes with razor-sharp fangs—all of them slithering, wriggling, and writhing toward me.
I sprang toward the settee, balancing myself on the slick marble-topped table as the snakes slid all around. Their numbers multiplying so quickly they completely obliterated the smooth, polished wood floor that had been there just a moment before—morphing it into a bottomless, hissing sea.
And even though I tried to stay calm, tried to remind myself that I was already dead, that they couldn’t really hurt me no matter how much they tried, it was no use. There was no overcoming my fear.
A sea of snakes with no escape.
It was pretty much my very worst nightmare come true.
Or, at least that’s what I thought until the flaming-eyed, snake-haired, demon-faced Radiant Boy morphed into something far worse.
Transforming himself into a completely crazed circus clown with huge red shoes that bounced right over the snakes, stirring them into a wild, lashing frenzy as he leered at me with his creepy, exaggerated face. His oversized, sloppy red mouth a jagged gash in his flesh, dripping thick rivulets of blood all down his front, as the flames continued to burst from his eyes.
He leaned toward me, allowing the frenzied, snapping snakes to slither up and down his arms, and I was just about to bolt, just about to cry “uncle” and get myself to safety, no longer caring about what Bodhi might do, no longer caring about anything but freeing myself of this beast, when I found that I couldn’t.
Couldn’t move.
Couldn’t run no matter how hard I tried.
Somehow, entirely against my will, and without my even realizing it, I’d been strapped and harnessed into what I soon recognized as a dentist’s chair.
I opened my mouth to scream, hoping to alert Bodhi, Buttercup, the ghost-busting couple, someone—anyone—knowing I needed all the help I could get. Clamping it shut the second I saw the horrifying assortment of drills and picks and needles he wielded before me—leaving me no choice but to silence myself.
And that’s when I realized what was truly going on.
This scary, sadistic, completely crazy, drill-wielding, snake-charming, orthodontist/clown/Radiant Boy had seen right through me. Right into the very heart and soul of me.
He’d tapped into my very worst fears.
Snakes—three-headed ones at that!
Clowns—stemming from that horrible summer day at the Oregon Country Fair, when I was just a little kid and some crazy mime/clown got all up in my face and refused to stop following me, stop mocking me, until my dad was forced to intervene.
Dental instruments—an approved form of torture, I’d no doubt about that.
But what I didn’t know was how he managed it—how he’d read me so well.
And it terrified me to think of just what else he might know.
His flaming eyes and bleeding mouth veering closer and closer as a tangle of snakes leapt onto my chair causing me to cringe, squishing back in my seat as far as I could, wishing I could scream, find a way to call for help, but knowing that to do so would only allow admittance to those horrible, whirring instruments. Pressing against the thick canvas straps, struggling against them with everything that I had. But it was no use.
He’d already won.
I was well on my way to joining the ranks of every Soul Catcher who’d come before me and failed.
15
I ground my teeth together and squinched my eyes shut, unwilling to see any more. Cursing Bodhi under my breath for putting a rookie like me in a situation like this with virtually no warning, no proper training of any sort, and cu
rsing Buttercup as well for abandoning me in what was clearly a time of deep need.
And I was just about to do it, just about to beg him to stop, to tell him that for all I cared he could haunt this place for the next hundred years, when he emitted a roar so loud, I couldn’t help but peek. Couldn’t help but peer into that creepy wreck of a face, watching in terror as it transformed from crazy flaming-eyed clown to every horror movie monster of the last thirty years.
And that’s when I knew:
He didn’t know me at all!