THE CASTLE OF LOS ANGELES

A New Novel by Lisa Morton
Introduction by Gary A. Braunbeck
Available from Gray Friar Press in a signed/limited hardback or trade paperback


(This chapter takes place about halfway through the novel. At this point Beth Ortiz, a young director, has taken over a small theater in the Castle, a huge old building in downtown L.A. that's been converted into artists' lofts. Beth has been living in the Castle for about two months, and has already encountered several strange occurrences, but nothing completely inexplicable. She's also met Philip, a filmmaker and now a suicide victim; Jessamine Constanza, a celebrity artist who has developed an unhealthy rivalry with Beth; and Marzelle, Jessamine's assistant who has become Beth's friend and confidante.)

Chapter 20

"Meet me in Philip's apartment at 12:00"

That was all the e-mail said. It had come from info@jconstanzaart.com, and so Beth assumed it was Marzelle, although she was irritated that no explanation accompanied the mysterious request.

She checked the computer's clock, and saw that it was 11:45 now. They'd knocked off rehearsal at 10:00 tonight; with two weeks to go until opening, Beth didn't want to wear out her actors, and she needed some time to work on the program. The work seemed neverending - rewrites, rehearsals, overseeing set building, getting out press releases and photos, putting together programs and flyers - and now Beth wondered how she'd done this when she'd also been working a full-time job.

She was tired, but the e-mail piqued her curiosity. Had Marzelle found something that might provide a clue as to Philip's death? If so, why contact Beth?

Don't go.

A part of her spoke up with an almost supernatural sense of knowing - knowing that something was very wrong here. Was it Jessamine trying to lure her into some sort of trap or trick? That would explain why it hadn't come from Marzelle's e-mail account...

She had to go.

At 11:55, she stood resolutely, grabbed her keys, and walked out.

It was a Tuesday, and the Castle stood quietly in the steaming California August night, its inhabitants either already asleep or working in silence. The lobby was empty as Beth pushed the call button on the elevator. She glanced involuntarily at the stairwell door, and a small shiver raced through her body.

The elevator arrived, Beth stepped in, and pushed the third floor button. There was no one else getting on or off, and a few seconds later she stepped out onto the third floor. The corridor stretched before her, lit by overhead lamps that created pools of light along the dark corridor, and Beth nearly turned and rode the elevator back down.

It was too dark.

Then she saw that one bulb halfway down the corridor had indeed burned out, and she gave herself an angry mental jab.

C'mon, Beth, just go meet Marzelle and get this over with. Then you can get back downstairs and hit the sheets.

She found the door to Philip's apartment and paused there, thinking. Hadn't they rented out this loft yet? Was this just a prank, a way to get Beth to awaken an unsuspecting neighbor, to make her look foolish?

She put her ear to the door and listened; no sound came from within. There was a peephole in the door, but it emitted no light. She decided to chance it, and she knocked softly on the door.

When there was no answer after a second knock, she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.

As she swung the door inward, she briefly had images of being arrested for breaking and entering, and wondered if Jessamine would go that far to embarrass her. She stuck her head in cautiously, and although the interior was dark there was just enough light entering through the large windows to reveal that the apartment was bare and untenanted.

"Hello?" she called out.

No answer.

She looked back out into the hallway, but it was still empty.
What the hell...?

She wondered if she should wait. It was probably only a few minutes after midnight now.

She turned to look back into the dark apartment, and a glimmer caught her eye.

"Hello? Marzelle?"

When there was no answer, she took one, two steps into the apartment, just to where she could see past the entry area to the large central main room.

There was someone in the loft.

"Excuse me..."

Beth froze, watching the figure. It was lit in a bluish light, but Beth realized the light coming in from outside had a slight reddish cast, the result of sodium street lamps and the light reflected down from the overcast sky.
The figure was generating its own light.

She squinted, trying to make it out. It was a man, a young man, of medium build. He was naked.

He was also beautiful.

Beth stood dumbstruck as much by his splendor as she was frightened by his presence. He moved slowly, his limbs waving almost as if underwater in a graceful sea. He gave no sign of having seen Beth.

And then he turned - and Beth's scream caught in her throat.

He had no side.

It wasn't that there was a gaping cavity there, something gruesomely missing; it was simply that he was (Text) flat, completely two-dimensional. He could be seen only from the front; he ceased to exist from any other angle.

At the sound of Beth's choked gasp, he turned back to face her, and this time he did see her. He stared at her and seemed to raise one hand in greeting, or in invitation.

He started to walk towards her.

Beth turned and ran.

She fled to the elevators, not looking back until she'd punched at the call button and saw it light up. Then she risked a terrified glance over her shoulder -

- and saw the glowing man in the hallway, coming towards her. His feet moved
as if he were walking, but his forward motion didn't match the movements, and he advanced slowly.

Beth fell back against the elevator doors, watching him approach. There was nothing overtly threatening about his movements, and in fact he seemed to be smiling at her. Beckoning to her...

The elevator arrived and when the doors opened she stumbled back into the car, then righted herself and banged the ground floor button. She watched, shaking violently, as the doors closed ( goddamn slow fucking doors, CLOSE!), the two-dimensional thing still coming forward, reaching out to her or for her -

Then the doors sealed and the car started to descend.

Beth took a shuddering deep breath, and realized her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it against the cloth of her shirt. She tried to calm herself as the car dropped, then reached the first floor. The doors opened, and Beth ran for her own door.

She got the keys into the lock, then slammed the door shut and let the keys drop from nerveless fingers. As adrenaline subsided, her legs gave way and she fell onto the floor near the door, one arm draped over the back of a theater chair for support. She was cold now, and still shaking.

Fuck, am I going into shock?

After a few minutes she was able to stand, and she made it to her bed, where she threw back the covers and crawled in, fully clothed, trying to regain some warmth.

In an hour the shaking had stopped, and Beth had found an unopened bottle of chardonnay in the kitchen. She gulped the wine right from the bottle, and was grateful as its soothing heat spread through her, dulling her senses.

But whatever that was she'd seen...she knew it would take more than half-a-bottle of wine to expel the memory.