“What? No, long story. You’ll find out more about it if you check out my Instagram account later tonight,” Kayleigh said, delighted to have been spotted by a fan, “I promise, you won’t want to miss it.”
“I look forward to it,” the young man replied, sticking out his hand. “My name is Terry. It’s very nice to meet you.”
While she liked the idea of online fans, Kayleigh wasn’t so sure about meeting them in public, but she also didn’t want to be rude. Giving Terry the quick once over, she ascertained that he looked harmless. His blond hair was stylish and well maintained, and she could tell that he took care of his appearance. It was not the look of a stalker or a predator in her mind, but wasn’t that what people always said about serial killers? Taking a leap of faith, she reached out and shook his hand, surprised at how soft and smooth his skin was. “Nice to meet you, Terry.”
With the goofy smile back on his face, Terry asked, “Do you have just a minute? I have something that I think you will love.”
“Don’t go making this creepy, please.”
Terry laughed, a shrill sound that was equal parts feminine and birdlike. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”
Kayleigh watched as he tried to compose himself by fanning the clipboard in front of his face. “You okay there, Terry.”
“I’m fine,” he said, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry if that sounded weird. A game, I’m talking about a game.”
“That doesn’t sound much better,” Kayleigh said, looking around for a way to get herself out of the conversation.
Terry sucked in his breath and slowly exhaled as he drew his free hand down the front of his face in a chill-out motion. “Let me try this again, please. I am here on behalf of a startup company called Diablo Games. They are looking to launch a new subscription horror game that is part murder mystery and part online experience.”
“Well, that does sound cool. How many people have you signed up?”
“A few have expressed interest, but it’s proving to be a bit of a hard sell. You, though, would be perfect. The creators would love me forever if I could land a horror influencer to play the first game.”
“I wouldn’t say that I was an influencer.”
“Don’t be so modest. Your following is huge, and it’s only going to get bigger once you start documenting the ghost evidence in your home. How is that going, by the way?”
Kayleigh rarely found herself at a loss for words, but it felt as though her tongue had been stung by a bee. “Good. We are setting up tonight,” she managed to blurt out.
“I think this would be a fabulous tie-in with what you already do. Think about it; you would be the only person playing this first game. I’m pretty sure the creators would take you on as an affiliate after the fact if this thing blows up.”
“What’s the game called?” Kayleigh asked, her heart now pounding.
“The Hollow-Eyed Girl is the title of the first game. Before you ask, I have not been provided with too many details. What I do know is that you will be presented with a series of clues for a week. Solve the clues and save the girl.”
Trying to hide her excitement, Kayleigh asked, “If I was interested in playing, when would I start?”
Squeezing the top of the clipboard, Terry removed a sheet of papers and handed them over to Kayleigh. “This is the contract, all rather basic stuff. You fill out your personal information, sign a copy for us, and keep one for yourself. As soon as I present your signed copy to the game creators, they will be in touch.”
While it was Kayleigh’s name that graced the Instagram account, it was very much a collaborative effort between herself, April, and Sean. She didn’t feel right about signing up for something that would become part of the CreepyKaylz brand without first talking to her friends.
Seeming to sense her hesitance, Terry said, “Listen, they are only going to pick one person to play this first game. The later games will be longer and more involved, and you could certainly get in on those, but imagine being the first person to play something that I know is going to be a smash hit.”
“Fuck it, give me that thing,” Kayleigh said, snatching the papers and a pen out of his hand.
Colored stickers poked out of the pages, indicating where she had to fill out her information. Quickly scanning the document and understanding little of the legalese, Kayleigh filled out the information and handed it back.
“Thank you, Kayleigh. Here is a copy for your records. I believe we are all done here. My bosses will be in touch when the game is ready to begin.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup, all rather painless, am I right?” Terry grinned.
Folding the papers, Kayleigh placed them in her purse, nicking the knuckle of her middle finger on the cracked screen of her phone. Drawing her breath in sharply, she pulled out her hand and sucked the blood that was already pooling on the broken skin. “Dammit, such a klutz.”
She fished a napkin from the coffee shop out of her purse and wrapped it around her finger. It was then that she looked up and noticed that Terry was gone. She quickly scanned the surrounding area and popped her head around the corner to look at the food court, but he had vanished without a trace. Shaking her head, Kayleigh turned and headed for the phone repair shop a couple of doors down.
A small bell above the door tinkled as she stepped inside and into what appeared to be a time warp. Instead of the latest smartphones, a collection of old rotary phones filled the shelves along each wall, a fine patina of dust coating everything. Behind the counter, an older gent sat hunched over, a jewelers’ loupe protruding from his right eye. The small light above the lens lit up his high forehead and glittered in the beads of sweat pooling in his creased brow. Without looking up from what he was doing, he said, “Miss Barnes, I presume?”
“Um, yes. Clark told me that you could fix my phone.”
“Clark was correct, my dear,” Peter said, finally raising his head and plucking the loupe from his eye, leaving a red circle that looked like a permanently etched monocle.
Kayleigh pegged him in his late fifties, although the receding gray hairline and dull green eyes may have made him look older. He certainly did not look like someone who was up to date on the latest in smartphone technology. The fact that there was an old telephone stripped down to guts on the counter did little to make her believe otherwise. “I don’t mean to be rude, sir, but can you fix it?” she asked, motioning to all the old telephones on the wall.
Peter chuckled and said, “I may look like an old man, but I love phones, even those lifeless new ones that you kids bury your face in nowadays. Let me have a look,” he said, holding out his hand, the fingers yellowed from nicotine.
She handed over the phone, holding it by the edges to avoid further damage to her digits.
“That’s quite the mess, my dear.”
“Can you fix it?”
“I’m talking about your finger,” Peter said, reaching under the counter and pulling out a battered first aid box. He pulled out a Band-aid and handed it to Kayleigh. “Put that on.”
“Thank you,” she said, covering the cut with a Band-aid covered in yellow smiley-faces.
Peter turned the phone over in his hands and tutted loudly, shaking his head in what appeared to be total disdain. “They don’t make them like they used to,” he said quietly.