“Downstairs, quickly,” Sara barked. She knew they really ought to go and check on Lacey, but she also knew that a bunch of dysfunctional part-time students and a professor weren’t exactly equipped to go off on a “Scooby-Doo” investigative hunt. They would find a phone and get the hell out of here. “Has anyone got their phone with them?”
“Mine’s still in my bag,” Molly said.
“Me too,” Barry confirmed.
“I don’t carry one,” Professor Rourke shrugged.
“Brilliant,” Sara snapped, annoyed that her own was also still back in the library. “Professor, where is the nearest public phone?”
“Um, I think…, I think that there’s one…” the professor stammered nervously.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Barry suddenly snapped as though an idea had just dawned on him “Are the rest of you complete idiots?”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked.
“It’s a gag, just a crappy joke, no doubt at my expense,” he said as though speaking from bitter experience. “You all saw Eddie and Lacey in the class; thick as thieves, giggling away like a couple of schoolgirls. They were no doubt planning their prank together just to scare the rest of us.”
“Oh I’m sure that they…” Sara started.
“And what the hell would you know about it? Barry snapped, “What the hell would the likes of you know about being the butt of every conceivable joke going? Let me tell you that I’ve had a lifetime of practical experience in these matters and I’m not about to play along any further.” With that he stormed off down the stairs and descended into the darkness below.
“Shouldn’t we stop him, or go with him?” Molly asked Sara quietly.
“I don’t think that he would listen,” Sara sighed. “Look, let’s get down the stairs, find a phone and call for help. I don’t really care if this is all some joke played by Eddie and Lacey. If it is then I’m sure that the police will be the first ones to not find it very funny.”
“Ok, I think there should a telephone behind the reception desk,” Professor Rourke ventured, jangling the pockets in his slacks. “Yes,” he said relieved. “I’ve got my keys. Let’s go to the reception area. We can shut the door behind us and wait for the police.”
Sara kept hold of Molly’s sweaty hand as they followed the staircase downwards slowly and carefully in the dim light. Professor Rourke suddenly strode confidently across the atrium as they reached ground level. Sara thought that perhaps he was a man confident in having a structure and a plan in place.
The three of them walked quickly towards the reception desk area. The main desk was an open space with sliding glass doors that were currently shut. Professor Rourke pulled a small bunch of keys from his pocket and quickly opened the locked door. Once inside he tried to lock the door again, but it wouldn’t comply.
“Bloody fire regulations,” he muttered before giving up.
Sara quickly located the telephone and snatched up the handset. Her heart sank when there was no dial tone. “It’s dead,” she said to the others.
“Oh, hang on a minute, it’ll probably be disabled overnight,” Professor Rourke said hopefully.
He reached past Sara and she could smell his faint aftershave. It was a musky husk that older men seemed to favor; it was strangely reassuring.
“Try it now,” he said after flicking a few buttons.
Sara tried it again, “Still nothing,” she said.
“Bugger,” Professor Rourke responded.
“What about that security guard that I saw earlier?” Sara said, suddenly remembering the creepy chubby guy who had tried to lead her down to a lower level before Lacey had interrupted him. “Where would he be now?”
“I’m sorry?” Professor Rourke answered, “Security guy?”
“Yes, he was hitting on me when I came in. He was around thirty with a pudgy spotty face and was quite short and fat. He had short shaved hair and he was wearing a dark blue uniform.”
“Um, I don’t know what to tell you Sara, but since the college’s budget was slashed to the bone we don’t have any security guards here.”
Sara felt her stomach lurch violently, “But I saw him, didn’t you?” She turned to ask Molly.
“Sorry no, I didn’t see anyone until I got up to the classroom,” Molly said. Her eyes were wide, full of worry and just a little excitement.
“Then who the hell was he?” Sara asked aloud.
“I think that the better question now is,
where
the hell is he?” Molly said ominously.
“I think that we should just get out of here ladies,” Professor Rourke said urgently.
He led the way back out of the office and headed straight for the main doors. He took out his bunch of keys again and began furiously jiggling them at the keyhole on the main door.
“What is it?” Molly asked.
“The bloody key won’t work; something is jammed in the lock,” Professor Rourke panted. “We’re not getting out this way,” he said, turning around with naked fear and uncertainty on his face.
“Then where else can we get out?” Sara asked quickly, feeling exposed out in the openness of the atrium.
“I think there are some delivery doors at the rear of the building, through the kitchen area,” Professor Rourke said strongly as though attempting to persuade himself. He began to move towards the canteen.
“Don’t you think that we ought to think about this Professor?” Sara pleaded.
“There is only one other exit that I know of ladies and I am going to go through it, call the police and then sort out of this silliness.” He straightened his tie and began striding purposely forward.
Sara was torn; the idea of retreating further into the dark college was not a particularly appealing one. If this was some joke played by Eddie and Lacey then what part exactly did the bogus security guard play? She looked back at Molly and felt strangely responsible for the younger woman. Her marriage had been childless at the choice of Randolph, as most of their supposedly joint decisions were. She turned to speak to the Professor again only to find that he was already striding through the canteen doors and not bothering to obtain anyone else’s permission. She felt a strong flash of anger towards him; suddenly he seemed more like Randolph than ever.
“Professor Rourke, wait,” she hissed through the darkness.
Grabbing Molly’s hand again she ran towards the canteen doors, following him as he disappeared through. She eased open the still softly swinging doors and into the cafeteria.
The room was large, equipped to serve the several thousand students who attended the college on a daily basis. Long white tables with fitted benches were staggered on either side of a central clear walkway. At the far end of the room was the serving counter, slightly obscured in the gloomy light. Sara eyes darted around the room but she couldn’t see Professor Rourke anywhere.
“Professor?” She whispered as loudly as she dared given the situation.
“Where is he?” Molly asked quietly.
“I have no idea,” Sara replied, “I can hardly see anything in here.”
“He wouldn’t have left us would he?”
“If he’s anything like the last man I knew, then it’s quite probable,” Sara said bitterly. “Come on, if he’s gone out through the delivery doors at the rear, then hopefully he’s left them unlocked.”
“Do you think that it’s that fake security guy you saw?” Molly asked as they walked slowly forward still holding hands. “I mean Professor Rourke did say that serial killers are often fascinated with police and authority positions in general. He even said they might have either attempted to become police themselves but were rejected, worked as security guards, or served in the military,” Molly recited.
“That’s some memory you’ve got there Molly,” Sara said impressed as they approached the serving counter. “Is this a subject that you were particularly into then?” she asked.
“You mean serial killers? It’s my life.” Molly said cryptically.
Sara turned to the younger woman, suddenly a little nervous, after all she didn’t know Molly, or any of the others for that matter. “Really? It seems a little bit dark for a hobby don’t you think?” she ventured.
Molly shrugged, “I tend to gravitate towards subjects that I’m interested in I guess, or at least ones that I used to be interested in. This crash course has somewhat tempered my appetite,” she laughed nervously.
Relived, Sara looked for a way through the service area and into the kitchen beyond. The counter seemed to run the width of the room. Cabinets with large plastic see through lifting doors now stood empty of food. There were metallic openings under the counter for plates and a till sat underneath a dust cover on the left hand side. There seemed to be no way into the kitchen without clambering over the counter. Sara knew that there must be a door to the kitchen but she didn’t fancy heading back out into the college to find it in the dark.
She jumped up and slid over the open space on the counter where the till was. Molly hopped up and followed her, but managed to kick the till over as she went. The crashing sound seemed monstrous in the echoing room and Sara’s heart almost stopped as they both stood in the silent aftermath and waited. After a few seconds that seemed to last for hours they both breathed a huge sigh of relief as nothing - and no-one - sprung from the darkness.
“Sorry,” Molly mumbled embarrassed.
“No harm done, but let’s try and be careful. I’m guessing that there’s a lot of noisy metallic utensils back here,” Sara said to reassure her.
She moved forward stealthily, avoiding any noisy obstacles and towards the door at the rear of the kitchen that she could make out.
Suddenly the black night was blown apart as the overhead lights exploded into life and the electricity thrummed powerfully back through the college. She could hear various machines cranking back into life after their brief hiatus. The fridges and coolers shuddered into life and began droning their merry chilling tune again. The dominant florescent lights hummed deeply and blinded her night vision adjusted eyes.
The quiet night was shattered again as something noisily clattered to the floor, swiftly followed by Molly’s ear piercing scream.
Sara squinted as her eyes became attuned to the light again. She spun back around angrily to see Molly staring with horror into a microwave oven that had its door hanging widely open.
“Dammit Molly,” she hissed, but Molly didn’t move.
She turned back towards just what was holding Molly’s attention. The microwave was an industrial sized machine; its opening was around two and half feet wide and the door was swung fully open. She hadn’t noticed the silver appliance as she’d passed looking for a way out, but now she saw and had to clamp a hand over her own mouth firmly to stop the scream for roaring out.
Eddie’s head stared bloodily back at her. His dead dark eyes bored through hers and his face was set in a now eternal expression of pain and terror. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and lay thickly over his pale lips. A soft steady drip of blood was pooling on the floor beneath and Molly’s white trainers were already turning pink with the congealing mess.
A timer buzzed behind Sara and an industrial fryer spat into life, the hot fat racing speedily towards optimum temperature. The oil hissed and spat viciously and Sara couldn’t help but turn towards the bubbling sound and her feet moved involuntarily towards the fryer. She reached out a hand to grasp the basket. Her mind was screaming to run but her hand kept going. She gripped the handle of the basket and began to lift; the oil bubbled like a volcano and the basket was heavy.
“Sara, don’t,” Molly wept from behind.
But Sara couldn’t turn back now. She lifted the basket and Lacey’s head emerged from the boiling oil. The eyes were thankfully closed as they were already crusting over, but Lacey’s mouth was open in a soundless scream that would last forever. Sara held the basket, staring at the severed head, unable to put it down as her senses froze in shock. She vaguely felt a tugging at her arm.
“Come on,” Molly pleaded, “We’ve got to go.”
Sara felt herself being dragged away from the fryer. Eventually she released the basket and Lacey dropped back below the bubbling surface and continued to cook.
“Well now good evening ladies.” A voice suddenly startled them from the far end of the canteen as a man walked through the entrance doors.
Sara immediately recognised the bogus security guard at once as he began walking slowly towards them, his acne face smug and smiling cruelly.
“You two are in a lot of trouble being back there,” he said as he continued to walk towards them menacingly.
“Run!” Molly screamed and pulled Sara harder towards the door behind them.
Sara staggered backwards under Molly’s panicked tugging, but she managed to snatch up a wicked looking knife as she went. The knife was cold and metallic with a silver handle and blade which was long and thick and looked viciously sharp. They both hit the rear door at the same time and Sara said a silent prayer as there was a key thankfully hanging from the lock. She tried the handle and found the door unlocked. She opened it and they both gratefully fell out into the corridor beyond.
Sara took the key and shut the door behind them. She had just inserted the key into the lock when the sudden weight of the security guard hit the door from the other side.
“Wait,” he screamed, tugging hard at the door.
Molly lent her weight to the struggle as both she and Sara pulled the handle towards them against the guard’s struggle on the other side.
“Open this bloody door!” He roared, pulling harder.
Molly braced one foot on the wall and pulled with all of her might to keep the door closed. Sara could only add one hand to the battle as she was trying to use the other to turn the key and lock the door behind them. The door crept open an inch towards the guard and Sara feared that the battle was lost. She pulled with everything she had. Molly placed a second foot on the wall and leant backwards with all her weight and might. Molly’s face grew purple with the strain; her forehead beaded with sweat and her arms trembled with effort. Sara found an extra surge of adrenalized panic and pulled the door towards her. It crept closed, millimeter by millimeter. Just as the door pulled into the frame Sara turned the key and the door locked securely. Molly fell backwards onto the corridor floor, banging her head painfully on the linoleum flooring. Sara dragged her up, fearing that there was no time to waste as the guard may well have an advantage on them as to the college’s layout, as neither she nor Molly had ever set foot in here before tonight. They ran in a staggering fashion down the corridor, only caring that they were running away from the kitchen and the guard.