003 Several minutes later, the food was finally ready.
Tara Heyes grabbed the takeout as though she’d been handed a lifeline and quickly pulled Dawn Emerson toward the exit, eager to get away from the silent clown who had been staring at them.
Art made no attempt to follow, merely watching as the two women disappeared outside into the Halloween night.
Once they were gone, Steve, the pizzeria owner, turned toward him with an irritated expression.
“All right, buddy.
We’re closing soon.
If you’re not ordering anything, it’s time to leave.” Art ignored him.
Instead, the clown rose without a word and disappeared toward the restroom.
It wasn’t long before Steve discovered the disgusting mess he’d left behind and angrily threw him out of the restaurant, sending Art and his large black trash bag into the street.
Afterward, Steve ordered Ramone to clean up the bathroom while he remained near the front of the store, completely unaware that Art had no intention of letting the insult go.
A short while later, Art returned.
By the time Ramone emerged from the back, Steve was already dead.
Ramone stopped cold when he saw his boss’s severed head displayed like a grotesque Halloween jack-o’-lantern, candles burning where Art had mutilated the face.
His stomach dropped, and he immediately tried to get away and call for help.
Then Art stepped into view with a weapon in hand, wearing that same silent smile.
“No…” Ramone backed away.
“Stay the hell away from me!” Art kept coming.
The pizzeria soon fell silent again.
Meanwhile, Darius Kane was already several blocks away, moving quickly through the nearly deserted streets.
He knew Art wouldn’t need much time at the pizzeria, and once the clown finished there, the movie’s events would move toward Tara, Dawn, and the derelict apartment building.
That gave Darius a limited window to prepare before the situation became completely unpredictable.
His first priority was simple.
He needed a weapon.
Darius wasn’t interested in collecting the thousand exchange points from the side mission.
Art the Clown was dangerous enough even before considering the supernatural resurrection waiting at the end of the movie.
Darius had no powers, no enhanced physical abilities, and no special equipment from Horror Town.
Picking a direct fight under those conditions would be stupidity disguised as bravery.
Still, surviving until sunrise meant he needed some way to defend himself.
Halloween decorations covered nearly every block.
Plastic skeletons hung from porches, carved pumpkins glowed from windows, and fake cobwebs stretched across storefronts while the streets themselves had become unusually quiet.
Under normal circumstances, the decorations would have looked cheap and harmless.
Knowing that Art the Clown was somewhere nearby made everything feel considerably less amusing.
Darius eventually found a gun store.
It was closed.
He stared through the darkened glass for several seconds.
“Of course.” There was no time to wait until morning, and the mission would already be over by then anyway.
Darius picked up a loose piece of debris from nearby and smashed the glass.
An alarm immediately began screaming.
Darius didn’t hesitate.
He slipped inside, grabbed a handgun and a shotgun along with several boxes of ammunition, then moved toward the tactical gear.
In his previous life, firearms had never been part of his everyday experience, but the memories belonging to this body were different.
Whoever Darius Kane had been before he took over, the man clearly knew his way around weapons.
That discovery raised yet another question.
Who the hell was this guy?
There wasn’t time to investigate.
Darius put on a helmet and protective vest, then added whatever basic arm and knee protection he could find.
He reinforced the gear with extra padding where possible, not because he expected it to make him invincible, but because even a little protection against Art’s blades was better than wearing an ordinary pizzeria uniform.
Once he finished, Darius caught his reflection in a dark display case.
Helmet.
Vest.
Protective gear.
Handgun.
Shotgun.
He looked less like a terrified pizza employee and more like someone preparing for a siege.
“Better.” He almost left before noticing a protective face mask nearby.
After a moment’s consideration, he put it on as well.
Art liked attacking faces far too much for Darius to ignore that option.
With the alarm still blaring behind him, he hurried away from the store and began thinking about his next problem.
Where could he hide until sunrise?
A motel immediately came to mind, but he dismissed it.
Thin doors, ordinary windows, too many entrances, and no idea who else might be staying nearby.
Remaining outside was even worse.
Empty streets and dark alleys were exactly where someone like Art could approach without being noticed.
Darius needed somewhere familiar.
Preferably somewhere with a strong interior room that could be locked from the inside.
After considering several possibilities, his mind returned to the pizzeria.
He had already worked there long enough through this body’s memories to understand the layout.
More importantly, the kitchen had a heavy metal service door.
Art was violent, persistent, and disturbingly resourceful, but he couldn’t simply walk through solid walls.
Darius slowed.
Going back sounded insane.
Then again, Art wasn’t likely to remain there.
By now, Tara and Dawn should have discovered the damaged tire and become separated from the safety of the restaurant.
Tara would eventually encounter Mike, the exterminator working inside the derelict apartment building, while Dawn remained outside.
That building would become the center of Art’s next killing spree.
If the movie continued along its original path, the pizzeria might actually become one of the safest places available.
Darius checked the time.
Almost half an hour had passed.
“All right.” He made his decision.
He would return.
But he wasn’t going to walk straight through the front door like an idiot.
Darius approached from the opposite side of the street and hid in the darkness between two buildings, watching the restaurant carefully.
The lights were still on, but he couldn’t see anyone moving inside.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Nothing.
Only after he was reasonably certain Art had left did Darius cross the street.
He entered cautiously with the shotgun held ready.
The front dining area initially looked almost normal.
Chairs remained where customers had left them, discarded napkins rested on tables, and there wasn’t an obvious trail of blood leading through the room.
Yet the moment Darius stepped farther inside, a metallic smell reached him.
His stomach tightened.
He already knew what he was going to find.
Darius slowly moved around the counter.
Then he saw it.
Steve’s remains had been deliberately displayed behind the counter, the severed head transformed into the grotesque Halloween decoration Darius remembered from the movie.
Blood stained the surrounding surfaces, while the unnatural arrangement made it obvious Art had taken his time turning murder into some kind of sick joke.
Darius stopped breathing for a moment.
He had seen the scene on a screen before.
That didn’t prepare him for reality.
Movies separated viewers from death through cameras, editing, lighting, and special effects.
Standing several feet away from an actual mutilated body was completely different.
The smell alone made his stomach twist.
“Jesus Christ…” Darius looked away.
He opened one of the refrigerators and grabbed a Coke, drinking several large swallows in an attempt to settle his stomach.
The cold carbonation helped slightly, though not enough to erase the image now burned into his memory.
Remember this.
This wasn’t entertainment anymore.
Nobody was yelling cut.
Nobody was getting back up when the scene ended.
Darius forced his breathing under control, set the bottle aside, and headed toward the kitchen.
His hand had just reached the door when another thought occurred to him.
He stopped.
“Wait.” If Art happened to return, simply locking himself inside might not be enough.
He needed some warning before the clown reached the kitchen door.
Darius glanced around the restaurant.
A few minutes later, he began rearranging several things near the entrance to the back area.
He spread slippery kitchen supplies across part of the floor and set up a crude obstacle using whatever cord and tools he could find.
It wasn’t sophisticated, and he had no illusion that something so simple could stop Art permanently.
It only needed to slow him down.
A few seconds could mean the difference between getting a shot off and taking a blade through the throat.
Once Darius was satisfied, he stepped back and examined the result.
“Good enough.” He turned off the restaurant lights.
Darkness swallowed the dining area.
Darius entered the kitchen, pulled the heavy metal door shut behind him, and locked it securely from the inside.
He placed the shotgun within reach, kept the handgun close, and settled into the safest position he could find.
For the moment, everything was quiet.
Art the Clown was somewhere else in Miles County.
And Darius intended to keep it that way.
(End of Chapter)