Saturday, February 26, 2011

Haunted Puppet Theatre: Department 19

After the last incident with the puppets, I wasn't going to take any chances. Early the next morning, I drove down to the hardware store and picked up some planks of wood, some nails and a hammer. Then I sealed the door to the spare room shut. Nothing was going to get in or out.

At least, that's what I thought. When I was finally able to fall asleep last night, I had fevered dreams: nightmares of tiny felt demons re-enacting terrifying things. I woke with a start, convinced that it was more than a dream. When I was sure that the puppets were not in the room with me, I went downstairs to get a drink of water.

That's when I noticed the door to the spare room had been forced open, the planks of wood lay splintered on the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the hammer I'd bought earlier that day lying on the kitchen table. I picked it up, took a step towards the spare room. In the doorway was a dogeared copy of Department 19, by Will Hill.

'You little monsters!' I shrieked. 'You've been at it again, haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU!'

That's when I heard my e-mail notifier sound. I had mail.

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