Level Zero by Dan McDowell (books that read to you TXT) 📕

in slow motion as “Breathy” Nancy Helbens came around the corner. Her yell and odor permeated the air. “Oh my gosh! You’re pale as a ghost.”

She grabbed his arm, leaning in closer toward him. He pulled away.

Ugh. Get a breath mint.

He turned his head from her to dodge the path of her lingering breath as it hit his face.

“Whatever you say. What’s the word?”

Before she could reply, Creeper Joe appeared behind them, kicking her down into one of the cell areas below.

Laughing aloud, he said, “Nancy will fit in better down there, won’t she? What do you think? Nifty, eh? It’s all fun and games. It’s all fun and games!” His voice projected much quieter than it had in their previous encounters.

Chris was right. You are weak.

“Joe, are you missing something? I see it in your eyes. There’s a hollow emptiness in them. They don’t glow the way they used to, do they?”

Joe pivoted to a new subject, “I see you, Todd. You’re a sorry excuse for manic, aren’t you?”

That tactic’s not going to work on me.

Todd shook his head. “You didn’t answer me, Joe. What do you have to gain by keeping us all here?”

“It’s my own little kingdom. I would have thought you’d figured that out by now. My house, my rules. My hunt may be over, ‘Mr. Fifty-Four,’ but my escapades have only just begun.”

“I don’t think so,” Todd said. “The Oak Hollow Hotel chewed you up and spit you out, didn’t it? You were unpalatable. The sad truth of the matter… all of us were, and we all got what we deserved, didn’t we?”

Don Wasserman’s eyes shined through Todd Adams. Creeper Joe’s face sunk as he backed away. The Shadow appeared behind Todd. Todd turned around and fell facedown in an unspeakable reverence.

The Shadow spoke, ”Joe, your math is a little off.”

“What are you doing here again?” Joe asked. “You said you would leave me alone.”

“Todd isn’t victim number fifty-four. He’s number fifty-three. I guess I’m as guilty of wicked scheming as the rest of you. I left a decoy on the list I gave you. I never saw you as my equal. You should have known that, though. We’re all bound to come under judgment at some point because every last one of us is folly-stricken. You’re a poor enforcer because you’re drenched in it, too! I was a fool to think I could take on such a lofty task.” The Shadow vanished away into darkness. The cell doors flung open, and all of the once confined prisoners exited toward the tunnel’s center.

Todd’s manic hysteria remained stuck on a loop, Crazy is. Crazy does. Crazy is. Crazy does. Crazy is. Crazy does. Get him.

Todd lunged toward Joe, grabbing him by the throat. “It’s all fun and games. Right? Now, it’s my turn. No fear… no blood… no fear… no blood… no fear… no blood!”

As he peered around the tunnel, a slew of Creeper Joe’s victims circled around in a vivid glow. Enlightened by an unexplained epiphany, they raised their voices, chanting and repeating the same in unison.

“No fear, no blood, no fear, no blood, no fear, no blood!”

“You may have bled me out,” Livewire said, “but you got it wrong. I ain’t one of ‘em… I never was. Sure, I had my share of mental health issues, and I ended up here like all the rest. I went along with the charade because I was on the brink of homelessness and divorce, but at some point, you’ve got to face the fact you feasted on my spoils in vain…”

“What are you saying? This is my tunnel… my tunnel,” Joe said as his voice continued to weaken. His jet black hair fell in globs as he raked his fingers through in a rush of panic. His epidermal layer chipped away like his skin was nothing more than rubber cement.

“You’ve been outnumbered a while,” Katrina declared as Sylvia manifested. “The right pieces just had to fall into place for us to strike.”

“Shut up! I can’t take it anymore,” Joe said. “This is too much for me… right now… Who is number fifty-four? Who is it?!”

“No fear… no blood… no fear… no blood… no fear… no blood!” the group chanted.

Katrina scoffed at Joe. “How would we know? You’re the creep…”

“Chris is gone, witch. I slit his throat myself. Now, Creepy Nights is your headache to deal with.”

“I never signed the dotted line. Not my problem,” she said.

“No fear… no blood… no fear… no blood… no fear… no blood!” The chant became stronger and louder.

“You threw law enforcement a bone all right,” Nancy said. “It’s only a matter of time before they dethrone you forever.”

Joe collapsed on the floor, scraping his head against it as he shook in a nervous compulsion. His blackening eyes showed sheer terror.

“Your sadistic pleasure was too much,” Livewire said as he kicked dirt into Joe’s eyes.

“I never should have burned up that Oak Hollow church. I was just a boy… and I… The reverend stirred up trouble in my community… He prayed for an angel of wrath. What kind of sick person does that? It…” Joe gasped.

“It… what?” Todd asked. “Tell us now!” He kicked Joe in the stomach, leaving him reminded of his finite limitations.

Joe struggled to reply, “It wasn’t hallowed ground.” His voice softened to a whisper, “it was cursed.”

Todd towered over Joe as the creep neared defeat.

The Shadow emerged as a glow shined upon him, revealing his identity. It was Don Wasserman’s father, William Wasserman. He was middle-aged, balding, heavyset, and pale. His hair was graying with hints of the carrot tones that once graced it. His mutton chops were razor tight and well-kept — an appearance frozen in time since his death, October 29th, 1910, the date he became one with Oak Hollow.

He spoke with authority, “Joe, somehow, I knew my son would be the end of you — one way or another. You’ve tormented long enough. I never meant them to be a jar of lightning bugs to tease… just poking holes