Tracked by Terror by Brad Strickland

tomorrow morning, as I shall be performing a few little spells anyway, I shall conjure Katrina Four. Fortunately, her part in the play is so very small that I think the new one shall do quite well with a minimum of rehearsal.” His voice faded off down the corridor.
    Jarvey and Betsy waited for several minutes. The Midions seemed to have departed, and the stage lay empty before they dared to move. “Who’s Katrina Three?” Betsy asked.
    Jarvey’s damp clothes clung to him and chilled him, so his teeth were almost chattering as he answered: “One of the magical actresses, I think,” Jarvey said. “They seem a little bit realer than the audience, but I don’t think they’re permanent. I suppose if they get out of whack, Junius just junks them and then makes new ones to replace them. Let’s get out of the auditorium where we can see what we’re doing, and we’ll try the Grimoire.”
    They stepped out onto the stage, now only dimly lighted, went around the sailing-ship set, and headed for the orchestra pit.
    But before they had taken more than a few steps, something white swooped down on them from the wings. “I’ve caught you!” shrieked a horrible, scratchy voice. “Help! Help!”
    A bony hand closed on Jarvey’s arm, and the creature that had pounced from the gloom grabbed Betsy with the other hand. Their captor was a woman, or what was left of one.
    Jarvey could hardly recognize the decaying ruin as one of the younger actresses he had seen in the dressing room. Her skin had become cracked and peeling, and her eyelids had withered away, leaving her bloodshot eyeballs staring madly out of their sockets. Cracked and flaking skin barely covered her skull, and what skin remained had become rough and dry-looking, like old, rotting leather. Her auburn hair was falling off in big clumps, and her blackened lips had pulled away from her gums, leaving her mouth a gaping slash in her face. Many of her teeth had fallen out, giving her a horrible jagged grin, and the arms that had reached to seize Jarvey and Betsy had great pits in the flesh.
    Betsy screamed in terror as this corpse-like creature began to drag them back, her grip surprisingly strong. “Master!” the monstrous woman shrieked. “Master! See what I have! Let me live! Master!”
    Jarvey struggled to free himself, swatted at her hand, and felt cold, rigid flesh strung with cord-like muscle and tendons. She gripped him even tighter, her hand like a trap snapped closed on his flesh. With a lurching gait, she dragged the two of them into the darkness of the wings.
    â€œEnough! ”
    â€œMassterrr,” gargled Katrina Three through her dissolving larynx. “Ssssseeeee.”
    â€œLight!”
    All the stage lights flared up full. Junius Midion stood leaning on a cane, glowering at them. At his elbow, Augustus leered at them in triumph. “I told you, Father.”
    â€œLett mmmmeee llllivvve,” pleaded Katrina Three.
    â€œYou remained alone onstage after the curtain fell?” asked Junius, sounding shocked. “You know that will destroy you! I can’t save you. However, I give you a quick and painless release.” Junius snapped his fingers, and with a gurgle of anguish, the creature holding Jarvey’s arm collapsed in on herself, her fingers stretching away to wispy streams, sticky as cobweb before they dissolved.
    Betsy, suddenly released from the hold she had been fighting against, fell backward onto the stage, thumping her head hard, and Jarvey staggered. He felt something firm pressing against his chest. Junius was prodding him with his cane. “How did you get here, boy?” he asked.
    Jarvey didn’t answer.
    A moment later, though, Junius’s dark blue eyes flew wide as he saw what Jarvey was holding under one arm.
    â€œThe Grimoire!” he shouted. “Seize the boy, Augustus. He must not be allowed to live!”

7
    The Rest Is