Humbug, page 1
Humbug
David McIlroy
Amber Hill
Also by David McIlroy
The Book of Uland (Young Adult):
The Soulburn Talisman
Empress of Nymm
Horror (Adult):
The Substitute
***
For Mum and Dad.
Copyright © 2025 by David McIlroy.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author directly.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by MIBLART.
First Edition, 2025.
"Bah, humbug!" ~ Ebenezer Scrooge
Part I: Movie House
One
The credits rolled. Next to Taryn, Jeremy eased back into his seat and said, "The guy out there's lost somebody."
She stretched. "What?"
"The guy in the lobby," said Jeremy. "He's looking for someone called Mary. He asked me if I'd seen her. I think it's his wife."
"Were they the old couple behind us?" said Ash, already on her phone. "Geez, they were annoying. They actually shushed me."
"Well, you were talking," Taryn pointed out.
"Yeah, but still. There was literally no-one else here."
Taryn grinned, watching Ash scowl in the glow from her screen. Her blue eyes caught the light as they navigated her social feeds. Everything in Ash's life happened literally.
"What happened at the end?" said Jeremy.
"If you'd stayed, you'd know," Taryn replied.
"I had to pee."
"For like the third time since it started. Do you have diabetes, Jer?"
"Funny." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Think there'll be a post-credits scene?"
Ash scowled again on Taryn's right. "It's a horror movie, dumbass. There are no post-credits scenes in horror movies."
"Some might have them," Jeremy said.
Taryn watched cast names flash up on the screen as the movie score blared. Jeremy pulled his phone out, too.
"The lights haven't come up," he said. "There must be another scene."
"There won't be," said Ash.
"Why haven't the lights come on?" said Taryn, frowning.
She'd been to enough movies to know that by now cinema staff should have brought up the wall and ceiling lights, nudging the audience out of the auditorium so they could clean it before the next showing. House lights only stayed down for movies with post-credits scenes, but as Ash pointed out -
"See?" said the other girl, holding up the Wikipedia page for the movie. "There's nothing at the end."
"Then let's go," said Jeremy, standing again.
Taryn did the same. Next to her, Ash's seat flipped up as she rose. She brushed popcorn kernels off her lap.
"How do I always get so much on me?" she complained. "This skirt is new."
In the intermittent light from the credits, Taryn followed Jeremy towards the aisle. She glanced up the auditorium at the rows of empty seats. Apart from the older couple near the back, they'd been the only members of the audience.
"This place is weird when it's empty," muttered Ash, scrolling on her phone as she walked.
Even for a matinee, Taryn agreed.
They descended the steps to floor level, turned the corner past the empty trash bin, and headed for the auditorium exit. Ash stumbled in the dark and swore, but still didn't take her eyes off her phone.
Jeremy pushed open the auditorium double doors and they walked out into the movie theater lobby, blinking in the suddenly-changed light.
"I'll be right back," said Taryn.
"Where're you going?" Ash said, not looking up.
"Bathroom."
"Be quick," said Jeremy, "I'm hungry. Hey, where is everyone?"
Taryn Meyer heard the question as she walked away but didn't register it - she hadn't realized how badly she needed to pee until they stepped out into the lobby, and the situation suddenly felt urgent.
She hurried towards the bathrooms; as she went, the soles of her All Stars squeaked on the floor and she wondered vaguely how she could hear them so clearly. She passed new release posters on the left (how was Tom Cruise still doing those Mission Impossible movies?) strung with gold and silver tinsel, and doors to the other auditoriums on the right. The screening titles and showtimes displayed in digital red lettering above each entrance. All but one of the screens were active.
The women's bathrooms were at the far end of the lobby in a gaudy, fuschia-painted corner just beyond the doors to Screen Six. There was a yellow "Caution: cleaning in progress" sign standing next to the entrance. Taryn's sneakers squeaked louder as she approached.
I hate peeing when they're being cleaned, she thought, rounding the corner.
But other than a bucket of sudsy gray water next to the hand dryers and a sodden-headed mop lying on the tiled floor, the bathrooms were empty, and she had her pick of the cubicles. As she came out, she lifted the mop and propped it against the wall next to the bucket. She assumed the cleaner would be back for it shortly, wherever they'd gone.
She went to the sink to wash her hands, glancing at herself in the mirror. The ceiling lights in the bathroom were harsh, intensifying the blue in her eyes and throwing every spot and blemish on her face into sharp relief. She'd been engaged in a constant battle with her skin for most of high school, and right now, it was winning the war. To make matters worse, her shoulder-length, tawny-colored hair looked pretty greasy after spending the afternoon under her pom-pom hat, which she'd jammed in Jeremy's baggy coat pocket during the movie.
Should've just stuck a bag over my head instead, she thought. She dried her hands and ruffled her hair out, then left the bathroom.
As soon as she came back into the lobby and saw Ash, she knew something was wrong.
Ash Buckley had been in her year group since kindergarten but they hadn't become real friends until Eighth Grade: they'd been in the locker room after gym class and Becky Wright had asked Taryn if she planned on growing boobs someday, and Ash had asked Becky if she planned on being "a pussy-ugly, buck-toothed pony whore" her entire life, which landed her in detention for a week and gained her a new best friend.
Right now, Ash was tugging on her lower lip - a sure sign she was worried about something.
"What's wrong?" said Taryn.
Ash turned to face her, blinking purple eyelids. She was a few inches shorter than Taryn and had to tilt her head up slightly to meet her gaze.
"There's no-one here."
"Huh?"
"In the whole place. There's no-one else here."
Taryn looked past Ash, squinting down the lobby. Its red walls, illuminated with a soft glow from mounted uplighters, usually gave the movie theater a warm, familiar feel that she liked, and the Christmas fairy lights fixed to the pillars and ceiling only added to that vibe, but right now all the additional festivity only emphasized how quiet and empty the place was. The brightly-lit concession stand halfway down the lobby was unmanned, as far as she could see, and there was no-one at the ticket booth. The Christmas tree positioned opposite the main entrance was a twinkling sentinel in the stillness.
Eerie, Taryn thought, and said, "Where's Jeremy?"
"That guy came back when you went to pee," said Ash. "You know, the one who was looking for his wife? He was, like, really upset, and Jeremy said he'd help him check for her. Did you see anyone in the bathroom?"
"No," said Taryn, thinking about the mop lying on the floor. "It was just me."
"This is weird," Ash said. She looked at her phone, still in her hand. "I've lost signal, too. That literally never happens anymore."
At that moment, the door to Screen Five opened and Jeremy emerged, followed by a man in a red-checked shirt and dark slacks. He had gray-white hair and a thick beard of matching color, and he gripped a navy Harrington jacket in one white-knuckled hand. His face was lined with age and worry. Taryn guessed he might be in his late forties, like her dad.
"...just don't understand," he was saying anxiously. "I mean, where've they all gone? Where's she gone?"
Jeremy shook his head and said he didn't know for what might have been the dozenth time, and then the man saw them. He came over immediately, staring imploringly at Taryn.
"You were in the bathrooms, right?" he said. "Was she in there? Was anyone in there? I mean, I've already checked myself, but there was no-one…"
He trailed off as she shook her head. Taryn thought his face might crumple in on itself. He turned away, his head bowed.
"There's no-one in there," Jeremy said, thumbing behind him. "Or in Screen Six. I checked. All three on this end, empty."
"What about the others?" said Taryn, watching the bearded man pace away from them.
"Same. Mr Bloom… um, Spencer… said he's already checked them, more than once. And the men's toilets. Nothing."
"This is so weird," Ash repeated. "Major gloomo depresso."
"Yeah," agreed Jeremy, adjusting his glasses again.
Jeremy Lewis had always had poor eyesight, for as long as Taryn could remember anyway. He'd worn glasses since Elementary School, which was about the time she'd met him, and he was fore
"What do you think happened to her?" Taryn said, watching Jeremy watch Spencer, who was across the lobby with his phone to his ear.
"I really don't know," said Jeremy. "He said she went to the bathroom during the movie and didn't come back. He told me he didn't notice the time at first, and when he did it was almost over and she'd been gone for half an hour..."
Across the lobby, Spencer looked at his phone screen and said "Bastard!", and slapped the wall with the flat of his hand.
"... and he hasn't got phone signal, either."
Taryn pulled out her phone. "Me neither."
"I had it during the movie," said Ash. "Maybe there's signal in there."
She went to the door of Screen Four, grabbed the handle, and hesitated. Taryn knew what she was thinking: it was dark in there, even with the movie credits rolling. Ash looked towards her and Taryn shook her head. "Go yourself," she said.
Ash scowled, pulled open the door and went inside. Spencer Bloom slapped the wall again and walked away, heading for the concession stand.
"Should we just leave?" said Taryn. Something was beginning to niggle at the back of her mind, growing more insistent by the second. "I mean, what's the point in staying? The movie's over. We'd leave anyway, right?"
"Right." Jeremy took out his phone, looked at the screen, put it away again. "The next bus should be here in about ten minutes. Once Ash - "
The Screen Four door opened and Ash reappeared. Taryn could tell she'd hurried out of there. The other girl shook her head: no signal.
"Ok, let's just go," said Jeremy. "We can wait at the bus stop."
"Good idea," said Taryn.
"What about him?" Ash said, gesturing towards the concession stand. Spencer stood in front of it, looking from the glass-topped counter to the stairs on the right of it, which led to the second floor and three more auditoriums.
"He'll be alright," said Jeremy. "He's an adult."
He started in the direction of the doors and they followed. The main entrance to the movie theater was around the corner, opposite the concession stand and the Christmas tree, which was beginning to feel out of place now in the empty lobby.
As they neared it, Taryn saw Spencer bend over the concession counter, searching behind it for his missing wife. His shirt rode up at the back and she got an eyeful of the top of his buttcrack poking out of his boxer shorts. She looked away quickly and her eyes fell on the podium opposite the entrance, where a cinema employee would scan your ticket and say "Screen Two, that way" or "Screen Eight, right up the stairs", as if you couldn't read the damn signs yourself.
She knew from experience that the podium was always manned, even during showings, just in case someone tried sneaking in for a freebie. There was no-one behind it now, but there was a cup of coffee on it. And it was still steaming.
The feeling at the back of her head niggled again, stronger now. She reached back and touched it.
"What the hell?" Ash exclaimed.
Taryn came around the corner and stopped. Ash and Jeremy were just ahead of her, facing the glass entrance doors. On their left, the ticket booth sat vacant.
At least two feet of snow was piled up against the movie theater entrance.
"Where did that come from?" Taryn said.
"It was snowing when we got here, right?" said Jeremy.
"Yeah, but barely," Ash said. "There wasn't even any on the ground."
Taryn thought back. When they'd stepped off the bus a few hours ago, there'd been light snowfall over the parking lot outside the movie theater and the mall, dusting the asphalt. There hadn't even been enough to hold a footprint.
"There's, like, a day's worth of snow out there," said Ash, "and it's still coming down."
"It's pretty heavy, too," Jeremy observed.
Ash walked towards the doors and they followed. Outside, beyond the glass, the world was shrouded in flurrying white; they couldn't see the parking lot or the gas station on the far side of it. As Ash stepped onto the rubber sensor mat at the entrance, Taryn braced herself for an icy blast when the doors slid open and snow spilled into the lobby.
But the doors remained shut.
Ash walked right up to them and put her palms on the glass, then drew back quickly. "Holy shit, that's cold!"
Taryn touched the glass too, and also pulled her hand away. It was freezing. Thick, fluffy snowflakes battered noiselessly against the other side of it before tumbling down to join their comrades piled along the bottom. She couldn't make out the vehicles in the parking lot.
"Why aren't they opening?" Ash said.
"I can't see anything out there," said Taryn, squinting.
"Why won't they open?" Ash repeated, panic lacing her voice now. "Are they frozen?" She gripped the inner edges of the doors and tried prying them apart. They didn't budge.
"That's an insane amount of snow," Jeremy said, peering through the glass.
"Why won't they open?" Ash yelled suddenly, causing Taryn to jump. She pounded the glass with her fist, knocking some built-up snow loose. "Why won't they shitting-well open?"
"Ash! Stop it," Taryn said, grabbing her friend's arm.
Ash jerked it free and stepped back from the door, breathing hard. Her cheeks were flushed red.
"I don't like this," she said. "I just don't. Ho-lee shit, I just want to go home now."
"I know."
"It feels like we're trapped in here. We're - "
"But we aren't, though," Taryn said quickly, taking Ash's arm again. "It's just that the doors are stuck, but we'll get them open. Or there'll be another way out, ok? You need to chill."
Ash looked at her. Taryn saw the fear in her eyes, making them huge.
She'll see it in mine, too.
"Maybe they're broken," suggested Jeremy.
"Ho-lee - "
"Jer!" Taryn snapped.
He glanced their way, saw Ash's face, and shrugged sheepishly. "It's either that or someone's locked them. But why, when we're still in here? Did they forget about us?"
Taryn looked at the empty ticket booth adjacent to the automatic entrance doors. Overhead lights were still on inside, and even from their side of the glass, she could tell the computer monitors were active.
"They didn't forget," she said, her eyes on the digital clock above the ticket clerk's seat. "It's not even four in the afternoon. They're just not here."
"Well somebody must be," said Ash, turning on the spot. "Isn't there, like, a security guard or something?"
"He'd be over there, right?" said Jeremy, pointing at the podium with the steaming mug.
"Maybe he's checking the rest of the building," Taryn said. "Maybe he's upstairs?"
"Maybe we should break the glass," Ash said, eyeing the fire extinguisher next to the doors.
"Don't bother trying."
Ash yelped. Spencer had reappeared right behind them. The man's face was drawn and haggard.
"There's no shutter, so the glass must be reinforced," he said. "If you threw something heavy at those doors, it'd most likely bounce back and break your face. I saw it happen once. We need someone to open them, or we find another way out.
"If, that is, we even want to go out there."
Spencer saw the kids' eyes widen at that. On some obscene level, and under very different circumstances, it might have been a little funny.
"What do you mean?" said the taller girl, the one who'd been in the bathroom.
"Why wouldn't we want to go out there?" asked the black boy with the glasses.
Spencer sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I'm overreacting. I probably am…"
"Why can't we go outside?" the shorter girl said earnestly. Her voice was whiny and Spencer thought, Where the hell are you, Mary?
"Well, let's think about this for a second," he said, looking at the polished floor rather than the kids. They can't be more than fifteen years old. "As I recall, this movie theater was pretty busy when my wife and I arrived earlier. Obviously, the film we saw wasn't so popular, but there are nine screens in this place and almost all of them were running something this afternoon. Some of the auditoriums have more seats than others, but let's say they each have a one hundred-person capacity on average, and even if each was only fifty percent full today, that'd still be almost five hundred people in this movie theater for matinee showings. Maybe less. Probably less. But either way, a lot more people than are standing in this lobby right now."
