In the House of Mirrors (23 page)

She said she didn't understand, but she trusted him with all her heart and soul.

15

A year later and the Great Denlax Carnival was forced to close, due to financial reasons beyond anyone's control. The real reason why the business had failed was because the magic was running out. The magic made the money come in, you see, and without the magic there was no money. Everybody parted ways, some of them performing in bigger circuses, some of them retiring from the business all together.

Arthur Denlax and his wife Veronica lived inside the house made of mirrors for the remainder of their days. Arthur began to count down the days until Quincy Black would come for him. He practiced for that day. A week before he was due to come, Arthur casted a spell on the camera. The Denlax camera. The spell was old, much older than the world he now resided in. The spell was designed to capture the souls of those whom the object had touched. Simply put, whomever Arthur took a picture of, would now harness that person's soul. He had a plan. A dangerous plan, with many terrible consequences, but a plan nonetheless. He convinced himself that his plan would work.

He was wrong.

16

A day before his date with destiny, Arthur decided he needed to see if his plan was going to work. He asked his wife to pose for a picture. She stood in the middle of the living room, looking at herself from every angle imaginable. Arthur raised the cursed camera to his face. Veronica put one finger over her mouth, as if she had a secret to tell. He pushed the button. A bright light filled the room. It blinded him.

When the light was gone, so was Veronica Denlax.

He smiled, and whispered to the mirrored room, “I'll see you soon, baby.”

17

The day passed too quickly.

Arthur waited for his date with death on the floor of the living room, exactly where he transported his wife to another world less than twenty-four hours ago. He waited for the man to come around, and he didn't have to wait long. The second the clock struck midnight on Arthur's twenty-ninth and a half birthday, the front door to the House of Mirrors opened, and a man dressed in black with a crow perched on his shoulder entered.

“
Love what you've done with the place,” Quincy Black said. “You look like shit by the way.”

It was true. Arthur looked the way his father did, the day he died of Tuberculous. “Fuck you,” Arthur spat.

“Now, now. Is that any way to treat an old friend?”

“
You tricked me,” Arthur said. “I was young. I was hurting. I was desperate. And you came along and tricked me into... into... selling my soul.” Arthur cried. He did not want to leave this world behind anymore. He wanted to live. He wanted that very badly. But he knew Quincy Black would not allow it. So instead, he planned to live in a different world, one where Quincy Black would not be able to find him.

“
You act like I stole it!” Quincy exclaimed. “I merely made a trade. I gave you a perfect ten years! And in return I require your services for eternity. I guess, now that I mention it, it's hardly fair, but hey! You agreed to it.” Quincy laughed. “Are you ready to go, my friend?”

“
It wasn't a perfect ten years! Look at me!”

“
Okay, so it wasn't exactly perfect. But it was a lot better than it would have been had I not come along. And you know that's the truth, so don't even try to argue.”

“
Fuck you,” Arthur said, bringing the tiny little porthole of his camera to his eye.

“
What are you doing?” Quincy asked, his voice shaky.

“
Say cheese, you son of a bitch.”

Light filled the room. When it was gone, so was Quincy Black. Arthur walked to the center of the room. He had done it. Quincy was gone. Vanished from this world. He had broken the curse. He was free. Free from—

A sharp pain entered Arthur's back. The excruciating sensation ran up and down his body as he collapsed on the floor.

“
You should have read the book a little closer, my friend,” Quincy Black muttered, as he towered over him.

18

Quincy Black's face warped. It no longer resembled anything human. It looked something out of a monster movie, rugged and discolored. Black snarled and displayed two rows of jagged teeth. Even his voice was inhuman. It sounded like a recording being played in slow motion. “HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME! HOW DARE YOU TRY TO SEND ME TO THE NETHERWORLDS! YOU THINK YOUR PUNY LITTLE SPELLS CAN MATCH MINE! YOU DEFIANT LITTLE SHIT! YOU ARE NO LONGER WORTHY TO SERVE UNDER MY COMMAND!” the creature roared.

Suddenly, Quincy Black looked normal again. Human. For the most part. Arthur Denlax could see that he was anything but human. He wore a man's face and man's clothing, but underneath he was a monster beyond standard childhood nightmares. He was something different, something Arthur did not know of, nor would he ever.

“How dare you...” Quincy said, standing over Arthur, who bled out slowly. His body was surrounded in a pool of black fluid. The camera had fallen next to it, unharmed. “I would have made you a general in my army. Now. Well, now I have no use for you. I have no use for defiance.”

“
W-what... will... h-happen... to me...” Arthur asked, drawing his last breaths.

“
The place you tried to send me to. Impressive. Very dark world. Very old. Did you know that's where you sent your dear Veronica? She's there right now. Scared. All alone. I hope the creatures there don't find her too quickly. They're nasty things. Think of them as dogs, only bigger, with an unquenchable taste for blood. You'll see them soon. Because that's exactly where you're going. And you know what? In that world, you can never die. So you're going to enjoy it for a very, very, very long time. You'll get used to it after the first thousand years or so. I guarantee it.” Quincy picked the camera up off the floor, and brought the tiny porthole to his eye. “Good-bye, Arthur Denlax.”

Light filled the room and when it disappeared, so did Arthur Denlax.

19

Quincy Black took the Denlax and threw it in a Dumpster behind a shopping center. Cameraland would eventually be one of the stores in that strip mall. Quincy Black didn't know this. He also didn't know that after he left the universe that contained Earth, a homeless man would go into that Dumpster and fish out the camera that had the name Denlax etched on it.

That homeless man would take the camera to the closest pawn shop and receive a whopping fifteen dollars for his troubles. That fifteen dollars would help him get to a nearby liquor store and help him buy enough booze to die of alcohol poisoning, which he did later that night.

The guy in the pawn shop sold the camera for thirty dollars a year later, to a man buying a present for his son's twelfth birthday. The twelve-year old would take one picture with it, of his friend Elroy Thicket riding a bicycle down the street, and never use it again. Why? Because the picture came out defective. It had a big black dot over Elroy's face. Elroy would die three months later, after getting hit by a drunk driver while riding his bicycle. The twelve-year old kept the camera in his closet for another six years, until he left for the military. His mother donated the camera to an elementary school in Red River.

The school held the camera in its possession for almost two decades, until 1984 when a student borrowed the camera for a project and never returned it. It was never returned because the father of that child had stolen it, or as he would put it, “forgot to return it.” His name was Trevor Purdy. Trevor used the camera to photograph his older daughter's sweet sixteen party. Most of the pictures came out awful. Black spots all over the place. Most of the girls who were photographed were later diagnosed with Leukemia. The cause was attributed to the town's water supply, which had abnormally high traces of carcinogens. People sued like crazy, and won.

Denlax's camera was once again back in pawn shop circulation. It was passed around to several families and several towns for another decade or so, without causing any newsworthy causalities. There were minor things here and there, but nothing too serious.

In 1995, the Harbringer family bought the camera from a little old man who was selling it at a garage sale. They had the camera for many years, and took many family photos with it. It worked for years, until one day in 1998, the pictures started coming out defective. Black spots covered the Harbringers' faces. They couldn't explain it. They stopped using the camera, eventually sold it at a garage sale themselves, to a young couple in 1999.

In 2000, the Harbringer family died in a house fire.

The young couple who bought the camera from the Harbringer family never used the camera until September 5
th
of 2001. Jean took a picture of her husband Matt and his golf buddies before the last outing of the year. Matt's face was completely blanked out by a huge black dot, but the others weren't. Matt died six days later when a plane crashed into his office building

Jean gave the camera away to her sister, who never used it. Jean's sister sold it for twenty bucks, enough to buy one oxycotin pill, a small white pill to which she was addicted. The man who bought it off her had no intentions of using the camera. His name was Willis McConely, and Willis liked buying things at a relatively low price and reselling them on the Internet. Willis never got a chance to sell it on the Internet because his daughter took a picture of him unexpectedly one morning. They never got that film developed, but if they had, Willis' face would have been completely blacked out. Less than twenty-four hours later, Willis slipped in the shower when his wife and kids were out to eat, split his head open and bled to death. He was supposed to meet them at a neighborhood bar and grille, but never made it.

The camera exchanged hands for many years after that, without causing too much harm to those who touched it. It never left New Jersey, and stayed mostly within the county that the House of Mirrors had been built in. The camera didn't want to leave. It wanted to stay here.

The key wanted to find the doorway.

In '07, Dustin Market took the camera to his photography class at Red River North High School. He took a picture of his high school sweetheart, Marie Downy. No matter how many times the class developed the film, a big black spot covered Marie's face. The teacher could not explain it. The camera was deemed inoperable, and Dustin decided to take it back to the pawn shop where he purchased it, demanding a refund. The pawn shop owner reluctantly refunded him.

Marie Downy was raped by a football player later that year, and was left to die deep within the woods of Red River. It took a giant search party two and a half days to find her body.

The camera rested in the pawn shop in the same place for nearly two years, until it caught the attention of a photojournalist named Lester Resnick. He purchased it. Lester eventually went mad, and ended up in Benton, and the camera—

This was the Denlax Effect, ladies and gentleman, stretching its shadows across an already gray world.

PART FOUR

IN THE HOUSE

OF MIRRORS

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“How do you know all of this?” I asked.

“
I told you. Someone told me,” Lester said. The smile on his face had vacated. “Look, it's the duty for the predecessor to tell the current owner the story. When Dustin Market told me, I didn't want to believe it either. I thought he was nuts, you know?” I must've looked perplexed. “It's the previous owner's job to tell the tale. Even if you pawn it, your job is to track down that person and tell them the truth.
You have to,
” he said, almost pleading.

“
I don't want to pawn it. I want to stop it.”

He looked at me and smirked. “Yeah, I did to. And I was hoping you would say that, but let's face it—look what you're up against.” He lowered his head in shame, like a dog knowing it had done something wrong. “I was like you once. I thought I could stop him from coming through. But, the more I obsessed about it, the more I lost control of myself. He's powerful. And his power, unfortunately, isn't limited to the world he's trapped in. He's weaker in our world, but once he breaks through the plane, he'll be just as influential here as he is over there. There will be no stopping him. Time works differently in other worlds. He's had time over there,
a lot of it
. He's had centuries to perfect his craft, to master the ways of the
Eldurond
. He's almighty and powerful, and we... we're just human.” He paused a beat, waiting for me to bombard him with questions. I sat there, waiting for his spiel to end. “You've got to find Boone before he reaches the portal. And then you have to close it forever.”

“
And how do you suggest I do that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “If I knew how to do it, then I would have done it.”

“Right. Well, I think the House of Mirrors has been permanently closed for business. So, actually, I don't think we have much to worry about.”

“
What do you mean?” he asked. If I didn't know any better (and I really didn't) I would've said he sounded worried, almost disappointed by the news.

“
A friend of mine might have burned the place to the ground, for reasons unrelated to Arthur Denlax.”

He chuckled and rubbed his chin. “I'm almost positive Boone would've had it rebuilt the day after. His father is what we'd call filthy rich. I don't know the details, but it has something to do with his wife's death. In any case, you can rest assured it's been rebuilt. Even if his father hasn't expedited the work, I'm sure Denlax's influence helped Geoffrey get the work done. Geoffrey is very sensitive to Ma-ma—Denlax's power.”

I briefly wondered if that was possible. Aurelia burned half the house to the ground. The rest of it was still intact. It was plausible, I supposed, although it was highly unlikely that the house would be completely repaired in the span of one week. It would take a lot of manpower and a lot of money, but I assumed the two things went hand in hand.

“
I don't have all the answers for you,” Lester said. “I wish I did. But unfortunately I don't. Or else I might not be in this godforsaken place. All I know is that you have to stop him. The camera, you need to bring the camera to the House of Mirrors. I think that's how you stop it. That's what I would've done, had I not been committed.” His face changed, as if he had eaten something sour. “That no-good fuck, Sheldon Daniels. He's the one who sent me here. That bastard. He's in on it. I swear to God, man, he's in on it somehow.”

Until that moment, I didn't see any reason why Lester Resnick should be in a mental institution (barring the bizarre tale he told me). His emotions started to change rapidly. He went from happy to angry, angry to scared, in about fifteen seconds.

“I heard you and Sheldon got into it.”

“
Whatever you do, stay away from him. He's in on it. He's helping the Mast—er, uh Arthur escape.”

Lester suddenly looked worried. As if he had said something he shouldn't have. As if his words were going to bring grave consequences. The whole time he spoke he was cool and calm—and dare I say “normal.” Now he looked frazzled. Something had suddenly gotten hold of him from the inside. His eyes darted back and forth in their sockets. He would no longer look me in the eyes.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. His peculiar behavior started to trouble me.

“
Fine. Just fine. I think I've told you everything I know.”

His eyes shifted to the other side of the room.

“Guards!” he screamed, refusing to look at me.

“
You're lying to me,” I said.

“
What, no,” he muttered, still shifting his eyes back and forth. “I've told you everything.”

“
You don't want me to stop Denlax, do you?”

“
Guards!” he screamed, louder this time. The door opened and the two security guards entered. Dr. Parsons trailed them. “Oh, thank goodness. I think it's time for my meds, is it not?” he rambled, talking way too fast  for anyone to understand him.

“
Tell me the truth, Resnick,” I said, as the guards grabbed him by his arms. They began to escort him out. “Resnick!”

“
Tootles, Denlax!” he yelled back to me. “Say hello to Geoffrey for me!” he screamed, laughing down the hallway like the lunatic he was.

2

I pulled into Cameraland's parking lot an hour later. Every bone in my body told me not to listen to Resnick, that bringing the camera back to the house in the woods was a bad idea. But I had no other choice. Maybe the camera
was
a way for Denlax to re-enter our world. But maybe it was also the way to destroy the portal that linked our two worlds together. I based all of this off the story Lester had told me, as crazy as it was. I had no other option. I had to believe the story to be true. Considering the things I saw the camera produce, I was apt to believe just about any nonsense Resnick spewed at me. If this made me as crazy as him, then so be it. Lock me up and throw away the key.

Before I entered the store, I made a phone call to my editor. There was no answer, so I decided to leave a message. “Hey, Sheldon. It's Ritchie Naughton. I was just calling because I went to visit our old friend Lester at Benton. You said if I had any other questions to go ask him, so that's exactly what I did. I have some further questions, and I know you're probably busy, but if you could give me a call back whenever you get this, I'd greatly appreciate it. Thanks.”

I ended the call and went inside, where Little Chris was flipping through a magazine about (you guessed it) photography.

“
How was the Nuthouse?” he asked, not even bothering to lift his head up from the magazine.

“
Everything I thought it would be and more.”

“
Did you learn the secrets of your defective camera? Which—by the way—took me almost a week to piece back together,” he said, not sounding happy about it.

“
You finished?”

“
Humpty-Dumpty is back together again.” He reached across the counter and slid a cardboard box over to me. The Denlax rested inside,
almost
in the same condition it was before the late Marty Olberstad repeatedly smashed it into the pavement. It had a few nicks and scratches on it, but other than that, it was in perfectly good shape. “Denlax” was still etched into the plastic. I shuddered when I rubbed my finger over it, because now I knew the story and how it got there.

“
I had to replace most of the internal organs, but other than that, only the body was banged up. I super glued where the shell cracked, over here.” He pointed to the camera's exterior, where the shell had split in two. This was from one of the many foot stomps Marty had brought down on it.

“
What did you have to replace internally?”

“
Oh, the aperture plate. That's where the film goes in. Some little pieces broke off inside, I had to use some glue on that as well. There was—”

“
The lens?” I asked. This was the only part of the camera I really cared about.

“
The lens, miraculously, was in pretty good shape.” He looked a little curious. “Why do you ask?”

“
Because, sir, I think the lens is why this little instrument is showing us things we ought not to see.”

“
Really? And I assume you have evidence to support your hypothesis?” Little Chris asked.

“
Not really. Just a story.”

“
Well, don't leave me hanging, dude. I want to know what this thing is probably more than you do.”

I seriously doubted that, but I appreciated his enthusiasm. It would make the story much easier to repeat. “Okay, once upon a time...” I said, and then I told him everything Lester Resnick told me, word for word, the best I could.

3

“
Wow,” Little Chris said, a few seconds after I finished. He had only stopped me a few times, just to ask some questions about parts of the story I had not properly explained. I did my best to recount the tale I had only heard just a few hours ago. I was eager to tell it, which probably caused me to lose the less important segments, but I think I covered the long and short of it quite nicely. After I was done, he stared at me, much like a child hearing the ending of an epic fairy tale for the first time.

“
I know. It's crazy as hell, but it would explain some of the things we've seen.”

“
Doesn't really explain the old man though, does it? I mean, Arthur was twenty-nine when Black banished him to that world. Shouldn't he be twenty-nine in the photographs? I mean, his wife was around the same age, right? And she looks young in the photo we have of her.”

I pondered this for a minute. “Resnick said that time works differently in other worlds. I don't know, obviously time moves faster wherever Arthur is. That's why he's all old, and shriveled.”

“And has claws for hands?”

“
Obviously whatever world he's in has had a certain effect on him. He's mutated. Maybe it has something to do with the magic he's using.”

“
But you're not sure?”

“
No, I mean, I'm not sure about any of it. But I know what we saw. I'm just trying to think—if what Resnick told me was true, then there has to be some logical explanation for the things he left out. Like why Veronica Denlax appears to be twenty-nine, when Arthur Denlax looks two-hundred and nine.”

“
I suppose you have a theory for that as well?”

“
I do actually. What if they weren't sent to the same world? What if Black banished him to a completely different world than the one his wife went to? Think about it. The two of them never appeared together in any of the pictures we took of them. When Veronica showed up, it wasn't even near the House of Mirrors. Chris—I think wherever Arthur Denlax is, I think he's alone. And I think he's trying desperately to get back here, because he thinks that's where
she
is.”

“
Well isn't that romantic,” he said sarcastically. “Okay, I guess that could make sense. So the million dollar question is—what do we plan to do about it? How do we stop it?”

“
We?” I asked.

“
Oh, come on. You're not going to drag me along this far and then cast me aside like an old, cheap whore.”

“
No, I would never do that,” I said sincerely. “I was going to cast you aside like a young, cheap whore.”

“
Shut up. No, seriously. You're not doing this alone. I want to see this through.”

“
I appreciate that.” I really did. If all of this nonsense was true, and I was to stop a very powerful magician from entering our plane of existence and preventing him from wreaking havoc in our world, I was pretty damn sure I didn't want to do it alone.

“
Well, here's the obvious solution: let's destroy the camera,” Little Chris said. “I know, I know, this is coming from the guy who just spent the last week fixing the goddamn thing. But it sounds like Resnick
wants
you to bring the camera to this House of Mirrors. And from what you told me, it seems as if Resnick cannot be trusted. So why don't we do the obvious and destroy the thing?”

“
Because I have a feeling that won't do the trick. It would only delay the inevitable. What happens if someone else is under the influence of Denlax and builds a new camera? What then? It might not happen in our generation, but maybe the next one? The one after that? Resnick made it seem like there was a way to close the portal for good. Or at least... he wanted me to think that way.”

“
Exactly.” Little Chris looked at me, as if I knew what had to be done.

“
Fuck,” I muttered.

“
I know it sucks, but that's what we have to do. No camera, no portal. Right?”

“
I guess so. I just didn't think the answer would be so...”