Night of the Slasher Read online

  Fright Squad 3

  Night of the Slasher

  Flint Maxwell

  Copyright © 2018 by Flint Maxwell

  Cover Design © 2018 by Carmen Rodriguez

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions email: [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author greatly appreciates you taking the time to read his work.

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  For Frank Rocco,

  an all-around great guy

  Every story is made up. Even the real ones.

  Iain Reid, I’m Thinking of Ending Things

  1

  Gone Camping

  This is the story of the Fright Squad’s time at Camp Moonfall. You might know it better as ‘Camp Nightmare,’ because that was the nickname it picked up sometime in the eighties, when Camp Moonfall was home to a series of terrible murders.

  These murders shut the place down, seemingly for good. Dozens died.

  Except one girl. The final girl.

  Her name was Rhonda Fowler. When interviewed by the police as she sat in the back of the ambulance, a rough blanket over her shoulders, the pale-faced cop in front of her was shaking so bad he could hardly jot the words down in his notebook. Rhonda said the killer, the person who’d wiped out nearly fifteen camp counselors and two dozen unlucky campers, wore a bear trap over his face. Like, actually attached to his face.

  Got that? A bear trap.

  Rhonda spent some time in a mental institution—thirteen years, to be exact. She died in the mid-nineties, but her last words were, “He’s still out there…”

  Scared yet?

  I am.

  I hadn’t known this gruesome story beyond what I’d gleaned online, which is hardly ever accurate. So when Octavius called us into his new office at the SOD in Columbus, and told us about what really happened, I wasn’t surprised.

  This is where the story begins.

  The glass wall was so clean it was almost nonexistent. I looked out over the sea of heads bent over their desks, agents in their button-up shirts and ties, their pencil skirts and blouses. A chorus of scribbling pencils and pens rippled through the air. Two men stood by the water cooler on the far end of the second floor. They held those cone-shaped cups, the kind that are good for about half a sip of water. I would’ve bet money they were talking about sports.

  This place, the SOD, was a corporate purgatory. I couldn’t believe Octavius had taken a job here; as second-in-command, no less.

  Across the room, Agent Lorne walked in, his face buried in a newspaper. I quickly pivoted, putting my back to him. He wasn’t my favorite person, especially not since I’d found out that he and Lola, the girl who’d broken my heart despite us not dating, were getting a little too close.

  “So,” Octavius said as he gestured around the office, “do you like it?”

  The place was boring. Drab. Nothing like how the NOD used to be before Lorne and Dalton helped shut us down.

  Maddie and Zack nodded, mumbling their approval. Maddie was busying herself by going through the titles on Octavius’s bookshelf: reference books on unicorns and the mating habits of werewolves, stuff like that. Zack was doing the usual: not paying much attention.

  I figured since we were technically no longer employed by BEAST, I didn’t exactly have to be honest.

  “It sucks,” I said.

  Maddie visibly tensed and took her index finger away from the spine of Vampires in Tropical Climates. Her hair was done up in a tight ponytail, not a strand out of place. She wore a flowery dress.

  Zack was grinning.

  The bright sunlight streamed in through the windows opposite those that looked out on the second floor. On Octavius’s desk, in his bell jar home, sat Chip, the decapitated and lively zombie head. He cackled, and a few maggots fell from his rotten teeth and slapped at the glass, leaving a trail of slime and black spittle in their wake.

  I pointed to this disgusting display. “Chip is about the only cool thing here.” Then, more quietly, “Geez, never thought I’d say that.”

  Chip was laughing too loud to hear what I’d said, but Octavius just stared at me.

  The old man and I had been through a lot. Just a few months before, I’d saved him from Doctor Blood at the Monster Games. Doctor Blood had gotten away… He seemed to always do that. Besides being a total asshole, that was the only thing he was good at.

  It was during that rescue that I discovered I was a soul-slayer. I manipulated the souls trapped in the Boogeyman’s staff, and they drove Doctor Blood back to whatever asshole he’d crawled out of.

  That was sometime in January. Now it was June.

  Octavius and I had started training together, trying to refine my soul-slaying powers. So far, it was going pretty badly.

  When he called me and told me to meet him at the Columbus office, I figured it was for another useless exercise. I mean, I could only move so many toads via their souls before I called it quits for good.

  That was the type of training we did. Toad training. ‘Start small,’ he’d said, ‘work your way up’. I was too impatient for that, though.

  But when he told me to bring Maddie and Zack along to the SOD, I knew it wasn’t for more toad training.

  Now, Octavius suddenly smiled. “Oh, thank you for the honesty, Abraham. I hate it myself. It is quite…drab.”

  I smiled back at him.

  Maddie relaxed.

  Zack started laughing. “Well…if we’re being honest, if there was any building I’d want to jump off of, it would be this one.”

  “Cute,” Maddie said as she came over to the desk.

  Zack shrugged.

  I decided to get down to brass tacks. “I don’t think you called us here to insult your office, so why are we here, Octavius?”

  “I have a job for you,” he said. His desk drawer squeaked as he opened it to pull out a file.

  One of his signature manila folders. It was stuffed almost to bursting, but we expected nothing less from our old boss.

  We crowded a little closer.

  “It’s a good one,” Chip said. “You’ll probably die.”

  “Gee, thanks, Chip,” Zack said and flicked his bell jar, causing the zombie’s wild eyes to roll in his sunken-in sockets.

  “It’s not a good one…if we’re still being honest,” Octavius said. His bony hand stayed atop the folder. He looked at us with a conspiratorial intensity. “But it is a high-paying one.”

  We didn’t exactly need money. After the Monster Games, we’d been given a hefty amount of gold, which we’d traded in for cash, causing our net worths to skyrocket, and allowing the Fright Squad to stay open for business. I won’t say how much we made because I’m not exactly sure. Let’s put it this way: Zack was no longer wearing gas station sunglasses; now he wore Ray-Bans, the way too expensive kind.

  But it wasn’t about the money—not for me, at least. It was about doing what was right. Helping the world be rid of dangerous monsters and killers.

  I don’t think Zack shared this sentiment.

  “How high-paying?” he asked.

  “Well, I can’t offer as much as the gaslings,” Octavius answered, “but it will be a hefty sum, I assure you of that, Zackary.”

  Zack brought a hand
up to his chin, thinking hard for a moment. “I’m sold. Let’s go.”

  Maddie smacked him on the back of the head. It was a light tap, but he reacted hard enough that his sunglasses flew off his face. Good thing his reflexes were pretty great, otherwise he’d have to buy a new pair of Ray-Bans. Which wouldn’t be a problem—especially if we ended up taking this job.

  “We don’t even know what it is,” Maddie scolded him. “You really gotta quit doing that.”

  Zack frowned. “It’s all about the Benjamins, babe—I mean, er, Mad…”

  She didn’t hit him again, but I could tell she wanted to.

  “Madilyn is right, Zackary,” Octavius said. “You do not know the extent of the job. Allow me to give you the rundown.”

  He flipped open the folder. The words on the title page read, ‘Camp Moonfall’.

  “Oh, no,” Maddie said. “That’s not…”

  “It is,” Octavius said. “Well, it was.”

  “Was what?” I asked.

  “Camp Nightmare” Octavius said.

  That rang a bell. I knew of Camp Nightmare the same way I knew of Helltown. Rumors. Urban legends.

  “Nightmare?” Zack said.

  “It’s where all those people got killed back in the eighties, at that camp,” Maddie said. “Used to be a big coal mining town a long time ago, too. I’ve seen the pictures of the abandoned mines.” She shuddered. “Creepy.”

  “Sounds like a good time,” Zack said, then he leaned over to Maddie and whispered, “You really have to find a new hobby.”

  Octavius nodded at Maddie. His face looked graver than before, like how it had looked after Doctor Blood detonated the soul orb at the Monster Games, when he’d been on the cusp of death.

  “I’m afraid that is the place,” he said. “And kudos, Madilyn. Even I had not known of the mines. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? All those mountains and hills in Pennsylvania.”

  Octavius had a point.

  “Why haven’t they just burned it down?” Zack asked.

  “That I do not know. But they’re reopening this summer,” Octavius replied.

  “Oh, man, that’s suicide,” Zack said.

  I was thinking more like homicide.

  “Urban legends,” Maddie said, but even she sounded unsure of herself.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Octavius said. “We can’t be too sure, and as I’ve always said, better safe than sorry.”

  He flipped another page. It was a picture showing a tall man in a blue jumpsuit. On his face was a bear trap. The picture was grainy and out of focus, but from what I could see, this man fit the description of the urban legend Cageface to a T.

  “Here is the last known photograph of the murderer,” Octavius went on. “This was taken in 1993, but there have been other sightings since—approximately fifty-eight—only without proof. Now, we do not know if the man in this photograph was just a hoax, maybe some high school kid messing with the town as Halloween approached, but we do know that somebody murdered those counselors and campers all those years ago. Someone who was never caught. I have reason to believe this being is supernatural and is still out there.”

  “Always assume the worst, right, Captain?” Zack said.

  I examined the picture closely.

  Outside the door, a burst of laughter came from one of the corner desks. A few agents were huddled together, Lorne and Dalton, too. Lorne was laughing and pointing at us. I ignored it the best I could, which wasn’t an easy feat.

  To distract myself, I focused on the file.

  “How come I’ve never officially heard about this?” I asked. “It was never in BEAST’s archives,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Maddie said. “I don’t recall it, either.”

  “And Maddie’s read every file there is,” Zack said with an air of pride.

  “Because.” Octavius leaned closer and spoke softly, risking not being heard over the raucous laughter outside of his office. “This is officially off the record.”

  “Oooh, Octavius is breaking the ruuuuuules,” Chip said in a sing-song voice.

  As quickly and naturally as breathing, Octavius bent down, fished around in one of his drawers, and pulled out a heavy cloth. Then he draped it over the bell jar.

  “Hey! Don’t do that, asshole!” Chip shouted.

  “Shhh,” Octavius said soothingly. He looked at us, gave a wink. “Like with an overexcited bird, just put a sheet over his cage.”

  Sure enough, it worked.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “this is off the record because we do not have much proof to back up the claims made by the lone survivor, Rhonda Fowler. And since she is dead and was officially labeled crazy while she was alive, any chances we had at getting this case fast-tracked by the higher-ups at BEAST are nonexistent.”

  “That’s why you’ve decided to hire outside help,” Zack said. He took off his sunglasses, breathed on the lenses, and proceeded to polish them on his shirt in a very cocky manner.

  Maddie rolled her eyes. I could tell she wanted to hit him again.

  “Exactly, Zackary,” Octavius said. “But there is more to this, of course. Let’s just say I have a vested interest in the reopening of the camp.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I’ll get there,” he assured us. “Allow me to give you more information. For one weekend, four camp counselors and a handful of workmen will be staying on the grounds, putting the place back together and getting it up to code. After that, if all goes as planned, the camp will be opened for business.”

  “They can’t seriously think having kids there again is a good idea,” Maddie said. She folded her arms over her chest and put her foot firmly down.

  Octavius shook his head. “No, no. That plan was shot down very quickly. Instead, they are changing it into a rehabilitation clinic for people suffering from addiction.”

  “Not much better…” Maddie said. “They shouldn’t open it at all.”

  “Relax, Mads,” Zack said. “Urban legend.”

  “Last time we used that argument, things didn’t turn out too well,” Maddie reminded him.

  Zack shrugged, but the confident look on his face waned.

  Maddie was talking about Helltown, the northeastern Ohio breeding ground for ghosts and all sorts of supernatural entities. It was true that all the urban legends had turned out to be real, but only because Doctor Blood was messing with another dimension, and bringing a negative energy to the place, like he was so apt to do. Since we’d bested him, BEAST was monitoring Helltown closely. Now it was as quiet as an unhaunted graveyard.

  “So you want us to, what?” I asked. “Help the counselors put the place back together?”

  Octavius leaned back in his chair. “Of sorts,” he answered. “I would just like you there for the weekend. As an insurance policy.”

  “In case ol’ Cageface comes around, lookin’ for revenge?” Zack said. “I get ya, Captain. Better safe than sorry.”

  “But why us?” I asked.

  “Like I said earlier, I have a vested interest in this mission, and I trust Fright Squad more than I trust BEAST, as sad as it is to admit.” Octavius was trembling slightly as he reached into his breast pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He took one out and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. The cigarette jittered there. He didn’t light it. “There is something else…” he continued.

  “What?” I asked.

  “My nephew is among the new group of camp counselors.” The unlit cigarette nearly fell from his mouth. “If anything bad happens to him, I won’t be able to live with myself. Once the weekend is up and the camp reopens, I’ll be able to make a strong case for a security detail nearby, but it will take some time. Until then, I need your help.”

  The three of us, the Fright Squad, looked at one another.

  “I know, I know,” Octavius said. “I’m not supposed to allow personal matters influence my job. But I loved my sister dearly, and on her deathbed, I promised I would protect Jason.”

  “I’m s
orry,” Maddie said.

  “Thank you, Madilyn. It has been quite some time now. She passed when Jason was just sixteen, and I took him in myself. I’m sure you can imagine how hard it was during those two years he lived under my roof, with my responsibilities to BEAST, and all, but I somehow managed to keep my secrets—though it pained me to do so.

  “I think of Jason as the son I never had, though our meetings are few these days. He is quite busy, as am I. But Jason is like his mother: he has a fondness for helping people. I’ve tried to talk him out of opening the clinic at the campgrounds, but where he is like his mother in one aspect, he is like her in all, which is to say he is quite stubborn.”

  I smiled. I never knew much about Octavius’s family. His personal life remained a mystery, but it was nice to learn something about the old monster master.

  “Of course we’ll help out,” I said. “If it’s okay with you two?”

  Zack and Maddie exchanged a glance.

  Maddie nodded.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to summer camp,” Zack said with a grin.

  As we were on our way out of Octavius’s office, after he’d given us the rundown on the job, he asked me to stay a moment. Zack and Maddie headed down to the parking garage.

  “Yeah?” I asked him when we were alone.

  “This may be dangerous, Abraham. I want you to be careful.”

  “I will, Octavius. You don’t have to worry about us. We’ve been through it all.”

  He nodded, took the cigarette out of his mouth, the filter now soaked with his spit, and set it on the desk.

  “Still, I have a bad feeling.”

  “You always have a bad feeling,” I pointed out.

  He smiled, then nodded again. “I believe Cageface has been biding his time, waiting for his revenge.”

  “As if killing dozens of counselors and campers over thirty years ago wasn’t revenge enough.”

  “The desire for blood is strong in such creatures, Abraham. You know that,” Octavius said.