The Midnight Game, page 6
“We had a library, but it wasn’t like this, either,” Mei said, trying to make conversation. “Just a few shelves and some color-coded stickers for the different reading levels out in the play area. I used to love these, though.” She carefully pried a slim volume from the shelf in front of her and held it up for Toni and Callum to see. The cover was battered, the corners soft and dog-eared, and the title dripped from the page, surrounded by a sea of bubbling green slime. “My parents would never let me read them at home, so I used to keep them in my tray and read under the desk whenever I had finished my work. I got caught so many times, but my teacher said she was the same when she was a kid and let me carry on. I think they’re what started my love of the supernatural.”
“That’s cool.” Toni smiled for a split second before putting her face back together. “If you’re a total geek, I guess.”
Callum winced as Mei flushed and Toni sauntered away. “Ignore her,” he said. “She’s just a mean girl. Don’t let her issues rub off on you.”
“OK.” Mei sniffed, and Callum shrank back under her watery, slightly adoring gaze. “Thank you.”
“Er, no problem.” He looked over the top of her head to see Hugo and Ellie huddled in a corner. They were whispering near a small table that held an ancient desktop computer. Reece stood near them, pretending to browse the titles on the Religious Education shelf, but he was clearly staring at Ellie’s tanned legs instead. “Hey,” Callum called over to them quietly. “What are you guys doing?”
“Nothing.” Hugo choked on the word, coughing and spluttering as Ellie patted him delicately on the back with her free hand. The sweet, sharp smell of alcohol drifted across the room.
“You have booze?” Toni asked, her eyebrows hiked in amusement. “Can you even have alcohol in the game?”
“Doesn’t say you can’t, does it?” Reece piped up, reluctantly returning his gaze to eye level. “Share the love, dude.” He held a confident hand out for the flask, but Hugo hesitated. “Come on, I could do with a shot to relieve the boredom.”
“There’s not that much in it,” Hugo said apologetically, sliding a palm-sized silver flask from his back pocket. It was banded with soft, tan leather, and Callum guessed there was a monogram stamped somewhere. He hid a smile. Of course Hugo carried a personalized hip flask. “I bet there’s enough for a good swig each, if you don’t mind sharing?”
“I’m game.” Toni grinned in the gloom, her teeth shining. Like a great white shark, Callum thought.
“Yeah, why not?” Ellie shrugged, though Callum felt pretty sure she’d already had a sip.
“Whatever,” Callum said as the group slowly fell into a circle. He glanced down at Mei. “Just pretend if you want,” he whispered to her, but she shook her head, eyes gleaming.
“No, I’m curious. I want to.”
“OK, up to you.”
“Here you go, pal.” Hugo flipped the top of the flask open with a brawny thumb and gamely handed it straight to Reece. “It’s a Scotch. Single-malt, barrel-aged…”
“It’s a what?” Reece took the flask with his free hand and sniffed gingerly. “Wow, that’s like paint thinner.”
“No, it’s Scottish whisky. A good year too.” He recited the words like poetry: “It will warm your bones against the chill of the evening.”
“It’ll make you vomit,” Toni whispered, and a nervous giggle rippled around the group.
“Nah, I’ve got a lead stomach.” Reece held the flask aloft. “Cheers!” He took a swig from the flask and immediately made a sucking noise with his teeth. “Oh, that’s spicy,” he choked out.
“Spicy?” Mei laughed as she took the flask from him, her hand shaking slightly. “Er, bottoms up?” She gently lifted the flask, the metal clinking on the frame of her glasses. “Urgh, the smell is so strong.”
“Hold your nose,” Ellie suggested, pinching a thumb and forefinger over her own to show Mei what she meant. “You’ll taste it less that way too.”
“OK.” Mei copied the gesture, shutting the air off from each nostril. She lifted the flask to her lips and sipped gingerly. “Hey, that wasn’t too…” As soon as she removed the fingers from her nose, she made a retching sound. “Oh my God, that’s disgusting.” Her small body convulsed as she fought to keep it down, and Callum worried for a second that she would be sick in front of everyone—or that she would drop her candle.
“You OK?” he whispered.
“Get this away from me.” She groaned, thrusting the open flask at him. For a second, everything wobbled and he thought he would either drop it or the candle, but he recovered both. A small bead of sweat trickled from the back of his hairline down past his hood and soaked into the collar of his T-shirt. That was close.
“Good one, Mei.” Reece clapped his free hand on his leg in appreciation as Mei gave him a shaky grin. Callum held up the flask in a salute before lifting it to his lips. He pressed them together tightly, hoping the darkness was covering him, that it didn’t look to obvious that he wasn’t actually drinking.
“Nice one.” Toni took the flask and drank casually, as though she’d done it a thousand times, only pausing to grit her teeth before passing the Scotch on to Ellie. She sniffed it and wrinkled her nose, making her look like a cute little bunny. She took a swig and made an exaggerated face, though to Callum she looked almost as well practiced as Toni did.
“Wow.” Ellie coughed a little before handing the flask back to Hugo. “That’s definitely an…acquired taste.”
“It’s my father’s stash,” Hugo said, shaking the flask. One final shot sloshed around inside, and he held it up. “It cost an absolute fortune. The man has great taste.” He downed the rest of the Scotch and let out a rasp of air. “Shame he’s an utter dick.”
“Yes, dude!” Reece shouted and slapped his thigh again.
Another ripple of laughter caught the group as Callum licked his lips, tasting the bitter sting of the alcohol that lingered there as his eyes focused on the large picture window that should have looked out onto the street.
It was dark outside, made even more so by the corridor that ran past, so the group with their flickering candles were reflected back in the window. Not quite a mirror image, but the shade of a reflection. He watched, mesmerized, their shadows shifting and twisting around in the glass as the group split up. Callum scrutinized their shadows as they drifted, one in particular seeming to loom large over the doorway. It grew in the reflection and a cold breeze shot through the room, so cold it penetrated straight through the fibers of his hoodie. He cupped his candle automatically and turned around to see the others do the same. He glanced around the room, counting heads.
No one was near the door.
He slowly turned back to the window, just in time to see the shadow slide up and across the ceiling. “Er, should we get out of here, guys? Keep going with the tour?”
A murmur of agreement led them toward the door. He must have imagined it—everyone else was calm, focused on their candles.
“Wait!” Toni screamed, breaking the silence.
“What is it?” Callum tried to keep the edge from his voice and failed, his eyes darting around. He just wanted to get out of there.
“My candle went out.”
07/01/2022 17:14
YeahBoi_121: When you say “he can taste your worst fear,” what do you mean exactly?
FrenchBanana: Well, like @Donttalktome12 said, he could just get the paper away from you and read it, but the original legend goes that the Midnight Man would taste the blood of the wrongdoer and he would then know everything about them. I suppose in pagan times people would only be able to write their name, if they could even do that. So instead, it happened the gory way and he found out the secrets they harbored, the reason they were there, etc. Like a sick sort of telepathy, I guess.
Donttalktome12: He would know everything?
CreepyTeepee: Everything. Especially anything that you were ashamed of or hiding. It was a punishment, remember? The Midnight Man would know what the person had done wrong by tasting their blood and finding out everything about them. The writing bit seems to be a more modern addition.
Donttalktome12: Damn.
User3678: What if you have nothing to hide? Like, you’ve never done anything wrong. Some of us are perfect angels…
CreepyTeepee: Lol.
CreepyTeepee: Seriously? I dunno. I’d have thought that all of us have done something bad at some point, even if we didn’t mean it.
17:16
CreepyTeepee: Right?
17:18
HotDog45: Say you haven’t. Will he just leave you alone?
FrenchBanana: I doubt it. YOU summon HIM. So I think he kind of assumes you’ve done something wrong. He’s just there for the game.
HotDog45: World’s most jacked-up game of hide-and-seek. I love it.
FrenchBanana: I suppose it is. And the Midnight Man will just keep chasing you until it’s over…
CreepyTeepee: And hopefully you survive.
User3678: I refer you back to my earlier statement: why would anyone want to play?
YeahBoi_121: Not chickening out on us, are you @User3678?
User3678: Hell no. I just like to have some kind of insight into the motives of my enemy, that’s all.
HotDog45: OK—say he gets you. Finds out your big, bad wrongdoing. What then? He spanks you and makes you say sorry to Daddy?
FrenchBanana: Ewwwwww. Not quite.
CreepyTeepee: Lol, no.
YeahBoi_121: What happens then?
FrenchBanana: Well, first, it only happens if everything so far has gone wrong, because he can only “get” you if you don’t follow the rules.
CreepyTeepee: Then he subjects you to your greatest fear.
Sunday, July 3, 12:22 a.m.
TONI
“No, no, no! Help me!” Toni’s hand shook far more violently than she was happy with. A thin tendril of smoke danced away from the faintly glowing wick, and a line of molten wax dripped over the softened edge of the candle, directly onto the tender skin between her thumb and forefinger. “Ouch!” She swapped hands and shook out her injured one.
Behind her, someone started counting.
“Ten…”
“Where are your matches?” Toni looked up to see the bimbo standing in front of her.
“Do you need to borrow mine?” she asked.
“I have some.” Toni forced her sore hand into a pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out a small matchbox. The matches rattled as she pushed the little drawer out with one finger. “These are such a pain in the ass.”
“Seven…”
“I think that’s the point. Here.” The bimbo—Ellie, Toni begrudgingly corrected herself—took the candle from her, leaving both of Toni’s hands free to strike a match. She gritted her teeth, forced her hand to stop shaking, and scraped the little wooden stick until there was a sharp hiss and crackle as the match caught. Her nostrils flared with the smell of sulfur as she guided it over to the blackened wick.
“Five…”
“It’s so cold.” Mei’s voice was so small, Toni barely heard her, but it was freezing, even with her jacket and tights on. The back of Toni’s neck started to prickle as the hairs there stood straight up, cold air drifting through them. The feeling was a warning as old as time, something primal.
Danger.
“Hurry,” Ellie whispered, her own hand shivering. Toni could see the gooseflesh on her arms and willed the candle to catch.
Another gust of wind blew through the room, taking the flame with it. “No!” Toni glared at the dead match in disbelief.
“Three…”
Ellie’s candle was still alight, the gust of wind blocked by her body. “Just light it off yours,” Toni ordered, hoping she didn’t sound like she was pleading with her.
“She can’t,” Callum chimed in. He stood with Mei, who was consulting her watch as she counted. “It’s against the rules. You have to relight it with a match, not from another candle.”
“Two…”
“Come on! Toni, Toni! Look at me.” The sharp edge in Ellie’s voice roused her back to attention. “You’ve got this. Come on, just one more.”
Toni snapped into focus. She dropped the spent match, pulled another, and struck it off the side in one fluid motion. This time she cupped her shaking hand as the sulfur flared and closed her palm around the candle and flame, willing it to catch. Another gust of wind rocked the room.
“One.”
The room itself seemed to hold its breath. Toni stared at her hands, too scared to pull them away in case the candle wasn’t lit. Seconds passed and the wind died down before she shakily unwrapped them, revealing the flame that had been kindled there.
“Good job.” Ellie smiled, holding the candle out to her.
Ugh, she was so nice.
“Naturally.” Toni took it and pushed the box of matches back into her pocket. She patted it and pulled the zipper up carefully. She didn’t want to lose those, did she?
“That was quite intense,” Hugo said, clearly trying for humor, but it fell flat. Even Reece looked shook.
“Where did that wind come from, though?” Mei whispered.
Toni straightened herself out and rearranged her face into a snarl. “Outside, obviously. There must be air vents in each room.”
“But I thought…” Callum trailed off, glancing at the door.
“You thought what?” Toni snapped.
“Oh, nothing.”
“No, come on. Spit it out,” she demanded. The others whipped their heads between her and the gangly boy like they were watching a tennis match.
“I thought I saw something,” he croaked.
“Really?” Mei asked, her eyes so wide it looked painful.
“Yeah.” Callum cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “In the reflection on the window.”
“What was it?” Ellie asked, her voice shaking slightly. She was nice, maybe, but she clearly lacked backbone. Typical.
“Just…shadows,” he admitted. “It was probably nothing, I mean our candles are casting all sorts of shapes onto the walls.” He gestured to their dancing shadow selves. They were wild things who clambered over books and grazed the ceiling with long, spindly limbs. Toni blinked quickly to rid herself of the image.
“It was probably nothing,” Callum said finally.
“Of course it was nothing,” Toni spat, forcing her hands to stop shaking as she glared pointedly at him. “Let’s keep moving, shall we?” Her words hung in the air for a second, and she wondered if he’d argue back, say it was her own fault they were still there.
“Yeah, let’s go. Upstairs next?” Callum gestured for the others to follow, and Toni hung back, waiting until she was the last one in line, even though on the inside she was dying to push her way to the front. They left the library and went through a swinging door to the left, which led to a fire exit door and a stairwell.
“Is it too late to leave?” Hugo eyed the metal bar across the fire door that led to freedom, with something like regret. Toni studied him as the others followed Callum up the stairs.
“You know it is,” Toni cooed, trying to copy Ellie’s soft voice. “Remember the rules? ‘Don’t go outside.’ ”
“I know, I know. That was just a bit—”
“Intense?” she interrupted, watching Ellie climb the stairs in front of her. Girl must do her squats; she was in great shape. No wonder the boys were drooling over her. It almost made Toni want to exercise. Almost. “Scary?”
“No, of course not. More—ah—unexpected.” Hugo tripped over his words, and Toni wondered how much effort it was taking him to maintain his calm and collected facade. His hand visibly trembled as they followed the others onto the stairs. Toni stepped up behind him, guarding her candle with her whole upper body.
This staircase wasn’t as grand as the one in the main entrance hall—far from it, actually. Where that one was crafted from limestone and hand-carved wood, this was all metal railings and rough carpet. Despite the latter detail, every step echoed. It was the kind of stairwell you’d find in a multistory parking garage.
The kind you walked through quickly.
Toni was definitely regretting being at the back of the line.
She focused on the staircase to distract herself. It was designed to be crammed into a small space—a few steps up, followed by a turn in the landing and another few steps to the top. The strange, candlelit procession climbed them at a snail’s pace, and by the time Toni was on the third step, Callum was almost at the top. She stayed close behind Hugo as she watched the others climb higher, each slowly making progress, one hand wrapped around their flame while the other held the candle. Nobody wanted to sacrifice their light after what had just happened in the library, so the railing stayed untouched as they felt for each step in the dark. Toni imagined what would happen if Callum lost his footing. They’d go down like dominoes, flames catching on each other as they tumbled down in one big fiery ball.
She let Hugo take a couple of steps ahead of her before moving again.
“Come on through.” She reached the top of the drab stairwell to be greeted by Callum holding open an identical swinging door to the one downstairs. Everyone else was in the corridor already, waiting in silence. She passed him, careful not to let the draft catch her flame, and looked both ways.
“Looks just the same as downstairs,” she muttered.
“It is.” Callum was pushing wedges into doors again. “Except this is a closet—not the library. That was a single-story extension.” He pushed open doors to exactly where they had been downstairs, revealing two more large window-lined classrooms as they followed him down the corridor.
