Page 3 of Haunt the Mall

I chuckled at the audacity. Who was pranking the audience? Some kid? A parent?

The spider twisted as if to check if anyone else saw it before ducking under the wall. Whoever was puppeteering escaped out the doors before I could get up to investigate. Had they had their fun already?

“Everything good?” Willow whispered.

“Yeah. Thought I saw something.” It was potentially more entertaining than the movie. I grinned and peeked at the railing, hoping for an encore. Sadly, by the time the credits rolled, it hadn’t returned. At least I had a fun anecdote to share with AJ and Bree.

Willow and I waited a few minutes for the theater to clear before trekking to the lobby to meet our coworkers, who’d probably camped out for a post-credits scene.

She flashed me a tentative smile. “How’d you like the movie?”

Oh geez. I couldn’t let her down emotionally as well as theatrically. I scanned the movie posters as we sauntered across the abstract carpet. “It was fun.” At least playing peek-a-boo with the spider plush was.

“You think so?” Willow pushed her hair behind her ear. “I, um, I really liked the mummy.”

I gestured vaguely. “Yeah, it was a cool allegory for preserving your true self and…”

A phantom caress slid up the back of my knee.

I shrieked and whipped around, but the force of the crowd pushed past me in a sea of bodies. Who did that? And with what? People glanced at my boobs but otherwise walked past me as I sussed them out. The touch had been prickly, almost fuzzy. It wasn’t a finger, although it was shaped liked one. Was it a scarf, maybe? No one seemed to be sporting any. Who might’ve even seen the incident except me?

The only nearby staff member was halfway into the emptying theater. He was probably the same guy who’d been watching the movie. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and the way he walked, he was clearly carrying something. Was the guy from the balcony our stalker and our puppeteer?

I followed him into the dark abyss of the empty theater, my heart beating fast. His uniform shirt was loosely tucked in, the drape of it drawing attention to his nice, rounded ass in black slacks. A thick, leather belt cinching in his waist screamed casual quality. I imagined it would bind hands—er, clothes, nicely. Or smack flesh. He turned ever-so-slightly, his dark hair curling out like a scythe by his ear. I could hardly breathe.

What did the rest of him look like? Did he want to touch me? Punish me?

“Kat.” Willow tugged my arm and jerked her head to the bright lights of the lobby. “They’re in the other theater.”

“Right.” I yanked my skirt down. “This is the wrong movie.”

I was not living in a romance, no matter how much that guy’s mystery beckoned me.

2

Spoilers

Saturday morning, I sucked my spoon clean, letting it linger like a tongue depressor while I skimmed social media and online forums. The usual moral questions and confessions of the day gave way to pop culture memes.

One was captioned: The other murderer in The Widow when the spider showed up.

What the hell? I dropped my spoon, the metallic clank sending my black cat skittering from between my legs. “Sorry, Jinx,” I mumbled. That meme should have been marked for spoilers. The movie had only been out for a day.

I flagged the post and resumed scooping cold, ring-shaped cereal. What did they mean “other murderer?” Were humans involved? Did the spider have babies? That’d make good sequel material.

I cracked my neck. Maybe I needed to lay off social media until I saw the ending for myself.

I placed my bowl onto the floor as a peace offering to my cat, then made a post.

< Who wants to see The Widow with me? [smiling imp emoji][spider emoji][black heart emoji] >

My younger sister Tori commented with a wide-eyed, blushing emoji.

< Scaredy cat :P > I typed back, petting my actual feline as he snuggled up to my leg and sniffed at my leftover cereal milk.

Privately, my sister texted me a follow-up question.

< Tori: I thought you went to see that spider movie last night to celebrate your promotion? >