Night of the Tiger(12)

Her stomach clenched and she felt light-headed. Where were all the other people? Where had Sandra disappeared to? She was totally alone in the room of mirrors. If you didn’t count the tiger, that is.

Knowing she had no choice, Aimee slowly turned, her sneakers squeaking against the flooring. She was practically panting now as she sucked air into her starving lungs. She had to calm down. Taking a deep breath, she held it as she swiveled the rest of the way around.

She blinked and then gave a short, nervous laugh. “Nothing. Of course there’s nothing. It’s just a trick of light and mirrors.” They probably had a hologram program they used or something like that.

It was time to leave the hall of mirrors. Placing her hand on the glass, she kept her fingers in contact with it as she began to walk around the room searching for the exit. A movement caught the corner of her eye, and she jerked her head around. The tiger was following her. No, it was stalking her. Head down, it prowled behind her, muscles bunching and rippling with each step it took.

Aimee yanked her gaze away from the beast. “It’s not real,” she repeated over and over as she let her hand slide over the panes of glass. One of them had to be a doorway out. She ignored the sound of heavy paws padding behind her. She ignored the loud chuff of breath and the low growl.

“It’s not real.” Her words weren’t as loud or as sure as they’d been. Maybe this was a hallucination brought on by all the stress she’d been under lately. She hadn’t been sleeping well either. That had to be it. She refused to believe there was an actual tiger behind her. She swallowed and kept searching for the exit, refusing to look over her shoulder.

This was as bad as one of her nightmares. She was trapped, unable to get out. It didn’t matter that the tiger looked exactly like the one from her dreams, the one that had always made her feel safe. Panic threatened, but she beat it back down. Years of practicing control in her life and in her dreams came to her aid. One step forward, feel the glass. Another step forward, touch the next mirror.

A slight breeze wafted over her face. A doorway. It had to be. She pushed forward and her hands met an open space. Making herself walk instead of run, she left the mirrors behind.

She started to peer over her shoulder, a part of her wanting to catch a final glimpse of the magnificent animal, but she forced herself to keep looking forward. The tiger wasn’t real and it couldn’t follow her. She was already freaked out enough without adding to it. Her shirt was plastered to her body and she drew her sweater tighter around her, cold in spite of the fact she was sweating.

The corridor was dark so she was forced, once again, to use her hands for guidance. She cursed herself for ever stepping foot in this place. Once she got out, she was treating herself to a hotdog and a cold drink. She wasn’t fond of carbonated drinks, but at this point, she’d take whatever they had. Maybe she’d even have some cotton candy.

A red light flicked on, and a clown popped out into the corridor, its macabre laughter surrounding her. Aimee screamed, her cry echoing off the walls. In the background, she swore she could hear the anguished roar of a tiger. As quickly as it had appeared, the clown disappeared back into the wall again. An automaton. “I hate clowns,” she muttered, forcing herself to continue. She had to get out of here, and to do that she had to keep moving.

Several more clowns, each one more bizarre than the previous, popped out and laughed at her as she made her way through the narrow corridor. And that’s what it felt like. They weren’t inviting her to laugh with them, or even trying to get her to laugh. They were laughing at her.

Great, not only was she seeing things, now she was paranoid.

Putting her head down, Aimee plowed down one corridor and then another, following the twists and turns that led her around the trailers. She knew she had to be getting close to the end. After all, it was only as big as two trailers, unless they had crossovers, which could keep her going in circles.

The familiar sound of the fairground finally penetrated her consciousness, and she hurried toward it. For a person who preferred to be alone, she’d never been so happy to see people as she was at this moment. Streamers, long and thin, brushed against her forehead and cheeks as she stepped out of the trailer. The cool night air hit her face and she took a deep breath.

The door slammed shut behind her so she couldn’t go back in. Not that she’d want to. She’d had more than enough fun in that place. Thankfully, she was at the opposite end of the trailers from where she had entered and didn’t have to see the smirking face of the attendant. She gave thanks for that small blessing.