#artmunspen

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   “…A long time ago, as in back in the 1340’s, an author had started to write a book. But it was never published. And, to add onto that, he was found dead at his table before he could finish writing the finalized manuscript. He had only just finished the first chapter,” Stine listened closely to Carla’s words as she parked the truck by her house, and the rest of the passengers and dummies listened on just as keenly. The brunette let out a heavy sigh as she turned off the ignition and turned her gaze back to them. “–the author had died by his own character’s hands, the antagonist of his novel. No one is sure why she came out of her book while her author was writing it, but…it was often theorized that there was a high concentration of magic in that ink at the time, and therefore the character was ‘born’ prematurely–”  “Okay, wait; wait a minute,” Stine had just about enough. He held up his hands and leant forward towards Carla in his seat, and his eyes narrowed questioningly at her. “What does that have to do with anything that just happened?”    “Because, Mr. Stine,” Carla narrowed her eyes at the author, annoyed. “–it is very likely that the Invisible Boy’s killer may have been that character. This wouldn’t have been the first time she committed a murder against a fellow character,” A heavy silence fell in the car, and this time all eyes really were glued on the InkMaster. She sighed, unlocked the car doors, and left the car. The others were quick to follow.     “And that number,” Wally sped towards Carla and looked up at her as he walked beside her long and swift strides. “—what the hell even was that? It has to have a meaning. And from the look you had on your face back at the school, something tells me you know what it means.”

   “It was a countdown.” Carla stated. “There are approximately two-hundred novels that the famed R.L Stine has written; that number was the start of a countdown.” She slowly clenched her fist, her eyes narrowing darkly. “…She’s taunting us, already claiming victory and expecting for that number to go down to zero. This character—she won’t stop for anything until she has claimed each and every one of you…”         “Carla, are we gonna have to go away because of her?” Dennis asked the InkMaster worridley. He turned around to face Carla and started to walk backwards.“I don’t wanna leave—you’d be all alone with Alex and you’d have to fight that character by yourself..!”     “I will do everything in my power to keep you all safe in my hands, but if Head-Pager Hope decides that you all have to be relocated to somewhere safe with Mr. Stine, then I won’t have any say in the matter,” Carla said. She smiled at Dennis when he pouted at her. “—besides, my job is to worry about you, not the other way around. I would much prefer you to be somewhere safer if it becomes necessary.”     “If this character really is like how you describe her, I doubt hiding will do us much good,” Rocky said. “—we’d just be waiting to get killed.”   “He’s not wrong,” Stine said. His eyes narrowed a bit. “—not to mention the fact she might go after other characters as an alternative anyway if she couldn’t  manage to locate us. If we can do something to get rid of this personification ourselves, I’m sure they would all want to fight back. Especially since she killed one of their own already.”     “I completely agree.” Carla sighed. “But as I said, I don’t have much power when it comes to those sort of decisions—but I can certainly do my best to persuade and have us all work together and ward her off so if we die or become changed, we can do it fighting.”

“Hold on; didn’t you say something about the Invisible Boy being whiteout or something when he was turned into that…thing?” Zach asked Hannah.  Hannah nodded. “Yeah; I don’t know how I knew that it…it was just a feeling,” “Inklings’ natural instinct.”   Zach and Hannah looked over at Carla. Champ was quick to catch up with the two, and his face scrunched with confusion. “What’s a…‘inkling’..?” He asked. Stine was quick to walk ahead of the group as they neared his house from across the street, and as he unlocked the door he turned to look at Hannah. He pointed to her. “You; get your things, you’re staying over at Zach’s for the night.” The author sharply looked at Zach with wide eyes. “If you try any ‘funny business’…I’ll know.” Zach facepalmed. “Oh my–okay, a; I wasn’t planning on it, and b; just why?” “Because I know how you teenagers get–”

“Not the time, Mr. Stine; get the book!” Carla hissed as she pointed towards the house. When the author and his daughter disappeared inside, her attention turned towards Champ. “An inkling, Mr. Champion, is the official term for a character that has emerged from their book,” she explained. “–Typically the term is mainly used for when characters more often than not live outside of their book amongst us. Hannah, for instance, is a very good example of an inkling. Slappy is as well, since he had primarily lived outside the book before he and his ‘friends’ started causing mayhem back in the 2000’s.” She motioned towards Champ’s smartphone when it buzzed and illuminated from his pocket. “Answer it; it’s most likely your parents. Ask them to stay over at Zach’s for the night and do not take ‘no’ for an answer. I don’t feel comfortable leaving any of you three alone at your homes right now, and I won’t be able to keep a close eye on you all once the monsters are released.”  Zach stepped forward slowly. “Err, and…why do we have to release the monsters again? If you are like a cop for characters theeen…you know what’ll happen next right?”    “They have to be released so our killer can’t get to them all at once at the very least,” Carla said. “–in their book they are entirely helpless to becoming the next victims all at one time. With them released and about, at least they will have a chance to run or not all be killed. Besides, I can handle them. Unlike you four, I am a professional. Managing little over one-hundred characters is just like running a daycare to me.” The InkMaster dug into her jacket pocket for a moment and pulled out two ink pens. “Take these. Give the other to Champion when he finishes smoothing things over with his parents.”   Zach took the pens and turned them over, raising an eyebrow. “What’re these supposed to do? They don’t look all that special.”      “They’re just trainer-pens; they’re not as powerful as the one I have so they can’t trap monsters. But they can certainly defend you if need be.” When Zach shot Carla a questioning look, she only offered a small nod in return. “Believe me; you will need it. Ever read Harry Potter?”  “I watched the movies,”      “Treat your pen like a wand. A sharp fick activates the ink inside and charges up the magic. Flick it again, and move it as if you are writing large letters in the air. If you can’t think of a word, just spell your name. That’s what I did when I started. Explain it to Champ so you both can properly wield it,”   “Why can’t Hannah have one?” “Characters can’t use the pens, it affects their ink.” Carla explained. “Sometimes the magic comes out a little too strong with their holding of the pen and the ink that’s already inside. More often than not, the character could accidently suck themselves inside the pen, trainer or not. Other times the concentration of magic is too high and it kills them. Obviously, that’s not a good thing.” Her gaze turned down towards Rocky, Dennis and Wally as they approached her.

“It’s more likely than not that Slappy will try to make a run for it.” She looked at Wally and rose an eyebrow. “I’m sure you can handle containing your little brother, correct?” Her gaze quickly turned towards Zach. “By the way, I need you to give me Champion and Hannah’s cell phone numbers, including your own.”  “Uh, yeah; sure, just gimme..a sec…”   When Zach looked down at Wally, he was met with the most wide and terrifying grin he had ever seen. And he was positive that grin plastered on the dummy’s face was not as wide as it was a few second ago. The dummy’s eyes glimmered green, and he slowly rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Oh believe me, Blake…I’ve been waiting for this day for nearly thirty years…” Wally grinned. His ragged voice seemed to gain more of a growly edge, and he chuckled quietly to himself.    Zach was just starting to consider that this dummy may have been more evil than Slappy when Hannah, Stine and Lorraine had all filed out out of the house. Stine was carrying the typewriter case close with him, and the manuscript that held the monsters was held even closer against his chest; like a protective father over a newborn. He handed his phone to Carla after pressing the ‘contacts’ app. “Here,”   Never in his life had he ever seen someone type on a smartphone so fast. She handed the phone back to Zach after a few moments and nodded. “Thank you. My wife will be texting you every hour or so to check in, make sure to text back so we know everything is fine. I already took the liberty of entering my contact information in your phone as well as my wife’s. Her name is Alexandra but she prefers Alex. Got it?”  “Yes ma’am.” “Good.” Carla looked over at Lorraine and offered a friendly smile. “Hello miss Lorraine. I’m sorry about the inconvenience but I need to borrow your boyfriend for a while. You are free to come across the street to my house to pop in if need be, but assuming that he has filled you in on what is happening…I do not recommend it.”    Lorraine seemed to visibly cringe. Stine offered her a small pat on the hand and a slightly apologetic expression that read; ‘Again, I am truly sorry about my evil wooden son using his alien minions to freeze you.’    “I’ll call you later, okay?” Lorraine nodded and gave Stine a small peck on the lips. “Okay. Be careful, cuddlebear,” she said before starting to usher the teens to the Cooper house.

“Ugh, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Wally grimaced.   Dennis slowly scooted close to him and grinned. “I’m sure you wish Marionette would give you a kiss–” Pop! Wally pushed Dennis’ head off his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets as he began to trudge towards the house across the street. “Shut the hell up, Dennis.”

    “…Alright, this is where you’ll release the monsters,” Carla said as she guided Stine down the hall. The author eyed the various paintings that hung on the wall and rose an eyebrow. He looked back at Alex,  who tailed closely behind.  “So…you’re Carla’s wife.”   Alex offered a sweet smile and nodded. “And happily so,”  she said, and her expression turned apologetic. “–I’m guessing you’re not getting a very good impression on her, are you..?”  “Well…if we’re being honest here…” Stine’s voice trailed, and the author shrugged as he looked forward again. “Then again I don’t really get along with anyone.” Alex laughed. “Well, mister Stine, I assure you that Carla isn’t always this…abrasive.  Time is just of the essence at the moment.”  Stine nodded in understanding, and his expression adjusted to a look of befuddlement. They had stopped walking at this point, but what was before them did not seem special in any sort: a black painted door; a little thin for a typical door, and a tad taller as well.  It looked  as though it was either painted with pitch, or the darkest ink that a person could get their hands on. And at the center of the door what appeared to be a golden wind-up, and just a tad above the door was something that resembled that thing you see at the top of elevators that tells you what floor you are on. Actually, now that Stine was really taking a really good look at it… the whole thing seemed to resemble an old-fashioned elevator. Except there was a black door in place of a metal gate.     Carla turned the wind-up a few times, dragged out and satisfying clicks and ticks sounding. The needle above slowly began to move,  passing by the symbols that replaced  the numbers at an agonizingly slow  rate. At last, when the needle was in front of the symbol that looked oddly similar to the ‘G’ that symbolized the Goosebumps novels, Carla slowly stepped back from the door. As odd noises from behind the door shifted and shuddered, she looked back at Alex.  “You did clear out the room before I left, right?” Alex nodded, and offered her a small raise of the brow and smirked. “I did it the night we moved in.”   “Always seven steps ahead of me…”

   Stine glanced between Carla and Alex, and his gaze turned downward  when he felt a gentle tug on his pant leg. He was met with Dennis’ friendly smile.   “Hiya,”  How could Stine not smile at that greeting? He ruffled Dennis’ hair and looked back up: only to have to look down again when he felt a gruff pat on the leg. Rocky. The author frowned a little when he noticed the dummy was missing his fedora. “What happened to your hat, Rocky?”     “I lost it in a chase with that thing,” Rocky motioned his head towards the ink pen that hung off  of Carla’s  neck.  Stine nodded a little, and he felt his stomach churn sickeningly when he was reminded that it was the Invisible Boy that was the ‘thing’ Rocky was referring to in that pen. He let his mind wander elsewhere, realizing that one of three was missing. “Where’s Wallace?”   Rocky waved a hand down. “Eh, he’s around.” Dennis grinned and clutched onto Stine’s pant leg as he swung back and forth on his feet. “He’s probably upstairs in the attic with Marionette,” He sang.  Stine rose an eyebrow.  “Who?” “She’s Carla’s character,” Rocky explained. “–sweet girl; has a lot of heart. And I will admit she is a bit of a looker. But what else would you expect from a porcelain, you know?”   “Wally really likes her,” Dennis quipped. “–and I think she likes him. Just a feelin’. They’ll fall in love, and hold hands and–”  “That’ll do, Dennis.” Carla said as a loud and mechanical unlocking noise sounded, and the door quietly creaked open. She looked back at Stine and motioned her head towards the door. “This way; and mind your head at the last step,” she said before making her way down. “Dennis, Rocky; stay up here, rest your legs. After that run-in you both had, and with what’s to come; you’ll need it.”

    Stine watched the two dummies wander off, and Alex offered a smile before starting down the hall herself. “I’ll leave you two to it. I’m boiling water for tea, so you can help yourself when you’re done.”    “Uh…” The author looked between Alex and the door. “…thanks,” This…was a bit ominous, Stine couldn’t help but think.  “Don’t worry, it’s safe.” Taking a deep breath as he turned to the door again, Stine clenched his hands and started to walk down the steps towards the darkened room below. He knew it was safe, despite the ominous atmosphere. The author was just starting to get a very bad feeling; as though he were in the center of the eye of the storm, the calm before things go from bad to worse… A bad omen.

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    “…Hey, do you hear that? We’re out of the drawer!” “Out of the drawer? Your ears are starting to go, you stinky Horror,”    “Watch it, you rotten vampire; we’re trapped in this place in case you forgot and there’s nowhere to run; but seriously, Clem; take a listen!”   Clem rolled his eyes and listened carefully over the snores and snarls of the sleeping monsters. After being up for all hours of the night, most of them were wiped out from doing all they could running about their confined space of darkness trying to escape somehow. In between the pauses of the exhausted commotion, however…he did hear a new voice crisp and clear, as well as Stine’s. And every once in awhile, the darkness would gently shift and sway. Not enough to notice if you weren’t paying attention, but enough to know that their cage was certainly being held by someone. And that someone had to be Stine, because he could hear his voice the most. But there was another, and another, and  another! There had to be five others their creator at least; it was difficult to tell.   “What do you think we’re doing out?” “We’re not out, Ilch.” Clem dryly retorted.   “But we might be, one day.” Ilch said.     “Come on, get real. Even Slappy lost hope of escaping on the third month.”   “Jeez…poor guy,”     “Poor guy?” Clem snapped. He shot up to his feet. “Poor guy?! He’s the whole reason we’re stuck in here! It was his idea to start rebelling against Stine because he was jealous of that ghost bitch!” He started wildly pacing around, throwing his hands in the air. “I said it was a bad idea, I tried to warn everyone; but nobody listens to ol’ Clem, do they?! Nooo, they had to listen to Slappy because he’s ‘the boss’,” the vampire made air quotations.     “Clem, come on, cut Slappy some slack; he’s gotten us pretty far the last time, at least.”   “You say that about every ‘master plan’ he has, Ilch.” “But it’s true,” Clem rolled his eyes again. He huffed quietly and crossed his arms as he sat back down. “Whatever.” “It doesn’t matter anymore anyway,  right?” A new voice stated from directly behind Clem. The vampire turned, and the horror leant to the side to get a better look. Slappy approached the two slowly, hands shoved in his pockets, and plopped down with his legs sprawled. “Stine and those kids made it easier to catch us all, even if we did escape again,” he stared at his feet. “All cramped together in one stinking book…”  Ilch and Clem exchanged glances, and the horror gave the vampire a shove. “What?” He snapped.    Ilch glared at Clem. He looked down at Slappy gave his wooden head a gentle pat. “You’re not telling us you’re actually quitting, are you?” He questioned. “It’s not like you to give up and drop everything on the dime like that,”    “I know; Stine wrote me like that; and I hate it.” Slappy sneered. “It’s exhausting being resilient. Especially when you always fail in the end.”   “Come on, Slappy…”  “Well, I mean…he never really won in his books…” Clem chirped in. Ilch slugged him in the arm, hard. “OW! Dammit, Ilch!”        “Why don’t you just shut up for a while, huh?!”     “Close your mouth; your breath reeks!”          “Bite me!”        “That can be arranged,” Clem hissed as he stooped low, ready to pounce.            Ilch snarled and bared his fangs. “Hit me with your best shot, small-fry,”     “Hey, hey!” Slappy stood between the two stooped monsters and pushed them both away from one another, foot pressed against Clem’s forehead and palm against Ilch’s face. “Knock it off, you idiots! It’s too crowded in here to start any fights!” He gave them both a rough shove and sent them back onto their backs.    The two monsters exchanged glares and hissed at one another before plopping down with angry huffs.    Slappy heaved a sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets with a small shake of his head. He turned on his heels and started to stride away. “At this rate if we’re stuck in here for much longer, we’ll kill each other.”    “We can’t die, remember?” Clem dryly stated, rubbing his forehead.   “Unfortunately,”

“…so once I finish having everything set up, you’ll put the book in the center here with the book unlocked.”

    The monsters’  heads all shot up at once with widened eyes, but Slappy seemed to be the most stricken. One by one, their gazes locked tight on the dark abyss above them; even the Blob halted its gurgling noises and a good chunk of the slime turned upward, listening well on the conversation above them.

“–Once the book is opened, we’ll–”   “Wait, wait, wait; hold on! Isn’t it more dangerous to have them out and about? Wouldn’t that just paint a target on their backs?!”  “I already told you; they are much more vulnerable in there together and easy to get to all at once! It’d be a whole different situation if they still had their books, but Slappy destroyed those: do you want them to end up like your Invisible Boy?”

   Murmurs raised, and the monsters exchanged confused looks.

“…I thought the Invisible boy was here,”  the Haunted Mask whispered.    “Apparently not,” Murder said with a frown. The dummy slowly pushed his way through the front of the crowed. As the conversation above went on and seemed to grow more dire, the murmurs amongst the characters grew far more alarmed, and the Haunted Car even started to wildly flash its headlights and rev up the engine with concern; and the fact the word ‘murderer’ continuously popping up over and over involving the Invisible Boy did not exactly help the situation. The darkness suddenly rocked and shook, and the large crowd was sent on their backs from the shock: somebody, Stine, had set them down on the floor. The only one who managed to remain standing was Slappy, his gaze still glued to where the voices were coming from. His eyes narrowed eagerly, he knew what was coming next, he was ready. Those ungrateful idiots wanted him gone?           Oh, no problem, there, Slappy thought. No problem at all… Who needs you all, anyway? Not me.  He’d be long gone soon enough; quick as a flash. It wouldn’t be long now.    Click; a tense silence washed over the crowd, followed by an increasingly bright light radiating from above, a powerful pull starting to yank and drag, some startled cries; and then  everything went white.

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    Of all of Slappy’s famous ‘disappearing acts’, that had to be the best. As soon as he had taken a solid form, the lights flickered, and the dummy had gone. That flashing and sudden look of absolute shock and horror plastered on Stine’s face was something he was especially proud of. Whoever that other woman was, however, didn’t even so much as blink. Slappy couldn’t help but notice that, but as he bolted down the empty sidewalk to who-the-hell-knew-where; but what did it matter?  She was probably too slow-minded to even process what was even happening at the moment. The thought of that made Slappy laugh, and he kept on zipping down blocks and sliding around corners. He discovered rather quickly however that he was heading towards where the abandoned amusement park used to be. It was in shambles, just as he left it. There was some satisfaction in that.    However, oddly enough, Slappy had found himself huffing and puffing for non-existing breath and scrambling through the disheveled fun house entrance. Odd; he never felt that sensation before. There was always the factor that the dummy could sleep whenever he wished if he were bored and didn’t have much else to do…but never before had he actually felt the draining sensation of exhaustion. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline getting to him. He pulled himself up step by step  (they were much too steep to merely walk up), and with a huff plopped down in the familiar encirclement of mirrors. They were cracked, and if you looked carefully enough, you could find dry stains of slime the Blob had left behind.     It was only then did Slappy realize that he truly didn’t have a destination in mind to run to.  Although wandering about the world was something he had done in his books…it was something he hadn’t really done before. Nor was it his thing; the whole ‘nomadic deal’ was something that Wally had done. Slappy was just dragged along for the ride. Even then, it was only because it was Wally. Where else was he to go? Being the pathetic wimp he was, he would have gotten caught in a heartbeat. It  was something of a miracle that when he and Wally got separated that he didn’t get discovered by some human and was burned alive. Even then, it was mere fiction in the end: a past that never even truly existed.  

Why are you alone?

    Slappy jumped his feet and wildly looked about. Nobody; not a soul (or ghoul) in sight.

The voice persisted. Why are you alone?

    This was starting to get suspicious, Slappy was no dummy. Instead of answering, he asked a question in return.    “Why are you hiding?”

That’s a good question. The voice giggled, echoing everywhere throughout the funhouse. But we’re not talking about me, silly-willy; we’re talking about you.

    Now Slappy was getting annoyed. His brows narrowed, and he slowly began to walk back to the steps.

Where are you going?

    “Away from you!” Slappy snapped. CRACK      The dummy whirled around, his eyes wide. The mirror behind him had split in two, and an unsettling silence slowly sunk in. His gaze slowly  casted around himself, and his brows clacked back into a narrowing position. With slow steps, Slappy approached the mirror. Something felt off; very off. Obviously, it’s a no-brainer that he was the scariest thing around this town; he could give every single person in this dull town nightmares if he wanted to. But however, nothing could shake the uneasiness that was starting to creep up on him.     Someone, no, something was watching him. Something that made chills run up his spine, which says a lot.  And they were doing it very closely.   Considering the very fact that Slappy was one of the ones that made things go bump in the night―he had a very good idea of what was coming next, and he didn’t want to stick around for that. Now it  really was time to split. The dummy backtracked, turned around and―

WACK!

    “Oof-!” Too little too late. Typical. Something had given him a hard smack to the face and sent him back against the cracked mirror.  The impact made it shatter, and Slappy slumped onto the floor. He groaned and stiffly turned his head forward (his head had also made a wild turn in his little soaring moment) to see the culprit standing right in front of him. His eyes widened again, but only for a moment before twisting and contorting into disgust.

     “Wally…” Slappy snarled.   Wally cocked his head to the side and casted Slappy a wry grin. “Hey there, little brother,” he greeted snidely. He pressed the sole of his sneaker to Slappy’s chest and leant all of his weight and strength on him as he leant down close to his face.  “―how are ya?”     Slappy gave Wally a harsh shove, but he was only pinned down back against the wooden floor. Hell and damnation, he thought ruefully.  “What do you want?! And what have you been eating, you weigh a ton!”      “You son of a bitch,” Wally hissed. He grabbed Slappy by the collar and held him up against the wall while giving him a good shake. “―you know why I’m here, you bastard! Give it to me!  I want it back!”     Slappy cracked a smirk. “You’ll have to be specific…”  Wally growled, annoyed. He leant into Slappy’s face. “Give me back my powers,” he hissed. “I am the eldest, and you are nothing but a pathetic and whiny brat that throws a tantrum every time something doesn’t go your way; you don’t deserve that old man’s power. You don’t even know how to use it!”     Slappy’s grin only widened at Wally’s words. “I didn’t get run over by a truck because I was too busy running away from a couple of brats,” he taunted. “―besides, you can do magic just fine on your own without it.” He eyed the journal attached to Wally’s belt by a chain. “You always were a good little book-worm. It looks to me like you have your spells and charms all nice and tucked away in that stupid little journal.” Slappy patted his brother’s hand (which was wildly trembling with something beyond fury) and offered a patronizing expression.  “So why don’t you keep the role and put me down, and I’ll keep the old man’s powers. It’s a win-win.”       Wally glared ruefully at Slappy, and his eyes narrowed as he dropped his hand down. He slowly lowered the other to the floor.    “There, see? That wasn’t too hard, was it―”     Slappy’s hand caught Wally’s fist just in time. And the other was quick to follow. They shot daggers-for-eyes at each other, both hands shaking from trying to shove the other away. Their eyes glimmered a dangerous green, the lights flared to life from the combination of their anger-triggered magic (and yes, growing brighter all the while!), and both tempers seemed to be boiling over the pot.    Slappy’s voice came to a low rumble.   “Okay…so that’s how it’s gonna be…”

    Lights off.     Slappy vanishes, the sudden weight shift sends Wally’s fist crashing through the platformed wall. He growls angrily and sharply looks back.

    Lights on.  Wally makes a mad dash towards Slappy and throws a punch, but the brunette dummy folds back, practically like paper, and with a slight shift and sway of his body drops down. Down Wally goes crashing against the floor when Slappy’s foot collides with his ankle.

    Lights off.    But as Wally crashes down, he drags Slappy with him. As luck would have it, the top floor had to be one with the bad flooring, and that crash of weight was just enough to send the two dummies through the floor.

    Lights on.  The light shines through; Wally gives Slappy a hard shove and sends him speeding downward and crashing against the bottom floor. A low groan passes his lips, and he slowly rolls onto his side before sharply looking up.

    Lights off.    Wally drops down right over Slappy, and the two start rolling on the floor kicking, screaming and shouting at one another.       “You are a greedy little twit!” Wally snapped. “I should’ve done away with you when I had the chance at that goddamned house!”     “I’m the greedy twit?!” Slappy shrilled. “I’m the greedy twit?!” He repeated. “You know, we could’ve had it made there! We could have been just fine! But you had to attack those stupid twins! We could have made a break for it! We could’ve gotten out of each other’s ways and everything would have been just fine!”   “They were a couple of brats! They needed to be taught a lesson! Just like you,” Wally’s voice grew dangerous, and he pinned Slappy to the floor. He wound up his arm and brought it down at an incredible speed. His fist collided with Slappy’s face, and the dummy grunted painfully. Wally hoisted Slappy up by the collar and wound back his arm again…

And then everything went dark.

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“Ohh…ow…ow—damn Wally…he actually managed to knock my lights out. Must’ve been pretty angry…he he, oh well; not my fault…” Slappy had raised his hand to rub the throbbing section of his forehead…only to find that he couldn’t. He was only able to move his hand up so far as half a foot, then a metal and restraining creak would rattle in the darkness. Slappy tried the other hand–no luck. He moved his legs about–ah, at least his legs were free. But even so, the restraints weren’t nearly as long enough for him to stand. Perfect. Absolutely wonderful. What did Wally drag him into now?     “Apologies for the restraints. But, as you can probably imagine after having that little chase…we don’t exactly trust you quite yet to leave you alone unrestrained.” A voice spoke, a woman? Slappy didn’t even recognize the voice—wait…yes…yes, he did recognize the voice. The woman that was speaking with papa—Stine, it looked as though he was having the pleasure of meeting her.    The light switched on, and, after his eyes adjusted to the newly exposed light, Slappy slowly looked up to see a towering brunette standing before him. Her expression was cold, and her eyes glazed icily as she stared down at the dummy, and he stared back up at her. A moment of silence passed, and Slappy was starting to get quite bored.     “Uhh…so is this one of those things where I wait for you to talk, or you’re waiting for me to say something, or..?”   Carla, who was the woman standing before the dummy, huffed quietly and slowly approached the chair Slappy was restrained against. She scooped up a file from the table in front of him before taking a seat down in a chair across from him.     “…Seventeen escapes; four lone attempts to take over the current residence Robert Lawrence Stine, seven attempts to rid of your rivals upon escaping—including the dummies Dennis, Rocky, and Mary-Ellen the doll—and six attempts to…ah…conquer the world with by formulating an army with your fellow characters from the Goosebumps series…” Carla read.  She glanced up at Slappy, and the two rose brows at each other. “I assume this is correct..?”     “Not bad…” Slappy mused. “So what are you? Another loon chasing after Stine and us? Seeking vengeance because he ‘ruined your life’?”     “No. Actually, I suppose you can consider me as an agent. And a dealmaker.”   Slappy knew how deals worked. He dealt them all the time, but he never took any; he was smarter than to do that. However…the very idea that this woman was ballsy enough to actually warm the ice on the topic intrigued Slappy… And she seemed to be smarter than he anticipating, which meant this deal might either be worthwhile, or a pain in his polished wooden ass.     “…So what’s your name, friend?”     “Carla Blake. I already know who you are very well, Slappy. Eight sequels. Impressive,” “I like to please the crowd. By the way, you mind taking off these restraints now? They’re starting to eat at my wrists worse than a termite invasion,”

    Oddly enough, Carla found the comment a bit more amusing than she should have let on, and she slowly shook her head with a smile. “Alright,” she took her ink pen and with a brief flick of the wrist, the restraints liquified and blackened as they trailed and swirled into the nib.      Slappy rubbed his wrists slowly and rose a brow at the pen. “An agent you said, right?”     “Yes,”    “And I’m guessing it was you who sent my dearest brother after me,”     “Truth be told, he would have went even if I told him not to. His anger management is something to be desired.”         “Well, I would agree with you but then it wouldn’t be anymore fun to pick on him,” Slappy smirked. “—but, if you did send him…guess that would make Wally your hunting mutt then, huh?”     “I believe the correct term is ‘community service’,”      “Gross,” Slappy grimaced as he leant back in the chair and crossed his legs. “—anyway…about you being a ‘dealmaker’…you wouldn’t mention something like that unless you have something in mind. So what do you want?”     “Your corporation.”     Slappy rolled his eyes and slowly nodded. He crossed his arms. “Ohh…okay, I see where this is going, now…”     “Do you?”    “It’s not hard to figure out.”     Carla smiled and leant back in her own seat. She set the file back down on the table and motioned to the dummy. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but…she seemed absolutely amused. “Well, then…proceed with your hypothesis,” she mused.       “Oohh, she likes using big words, I’m so impressed,” Slappy dryly stated. “—and, she wants to put a leash on me too. Stine, being the coward he is, probably gave us away to your little ‘agency’; guess that’s a whole weight off of him, right? We get to walk around as free as we like, so long as you keep the leash on and have us do your chores.”     Carla frowned a bit, almost…pitily..? “You truly think that poorly of your maker..?” She asked.    “Lady, if you were in my shoes, it wouldn’t be that hard.”     The InkMaster sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples. “Just as cynical as your brother, I see…” She looked up at Slappy. “Allow me to correct your views. You, Slappy, as well as the other characters from the Goosebumps series, are under a witness protection program of sorts.”      Slappy sat up. Okay…not exactly what he had in mind…     “As I have explained to Mr. Stine and the others, the Invisible Boy was recently murdered. Well, he isn’t necessarily dead…but he certainly isn’t alive.” Carla stood and began to pace. “I am here to make sure the character responsible doesn’t get to the rest of you—but hiding won’t work forever. And, that is why you are here. This all boils down to what you decide right now,” she looked at Slappy. “You are their influence. And, although your ‘friends’ may not be pleased with you at the moment…they see you as a leader.”      Slappy frowned, and his eyes narrowed. He was made literally as a twist, so they don’t usually come as a surprise to him. But in this case, however, although the dummy made no notion of showing it, the very fact alone that the Invisible Boy really was ‘dead’ took him back. And killed by a character, no less. There was something about Carla’s words, however…something that made him suspicious.    Very slowly, Slappy leant forward, and his brows clacked as they too narrowed. “What are you getting at..?”     Carla stopped pacing. She approached the dummy and leant down—their eyes met, hazel stabbed straight through deep cocoa. Slappy glanced away occasionally. Not only was her gaze extremely uncomfortable and penetrating, it felt as though she were not looking at him but into his split and poorly moraled soul.     The sound of paper scraping against metal broke the silence, and Slappy slowly looked over to find a contract ready to be signed, and a pen ready to be used.  There was an empty line on the bottom, but there was also another line above. But this one wasn’t empty—it held a signature in a scrawled and rushed cursive.        R.L. Stine        “This contract is something similar to your awakening spell. Once signed with all parties agreed on the terms, we will become binded to this contract. Not even I can break it. That power belongs only to the higher-ups.” Carla’s tone darkened. “Slappy…I want you to lead those monsters, to guide them, to help them fend for themselves. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, but…this is a complex and difficult situation. I’m not even sure if I will live to see the end of this.     “But you and the others must. Nothing is more important to me than the lives of a creator’s creations. No matter what—protagonist, secondary, minor…or antagonist,” she glanced at Slappy. “Once this is all over, so long as you behave from the moment you sign that contract and on…you will remain free. No locks, no keys, your book burned and ashes thrown away.” Upon the dummy’s wide eyes and slacked jaw, she humphed quietly with a faint smile and stood up straight. She motioned to the contract. “Do we have a deal..?”    Slappy slowly looked at the contract. He walked to the edge of the chair and took the pen, frowning and contemplating. “So we’ll stay free—” Slappy sharply looked up at Carla and pointed down at the contract.  “—as soon as I sign this, our freedom is sealed. That’s the deal?”     “So long as you behave.”     His gaze locked back on the contract. He read it over once, twice, three times. Nothing, absolutely nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “…And in exchange we help you take out the one who killed one of our own, saving our skins all the while, huh..?” Something was nagging at him. Something in the back of his mind was screaming and shouting at him. ‘Don’t do it! On’t sign, whatever you do! Things will end up only worse if you do! If you sign that paper, the most hellish omens will come your way.’     Let’s see…confined inside a book or some leg space..? A vacuum sealed package, or reality..? Imprisonment, or freedom..? Hmm..such complex choices.

   “Do I sign with my whole name or with initials?”