Seventy-Six
Julie could not suppress a scream this time.
Her shriek of surprise echoed around the building, drumming in their ears, amplified by the stillness.
The figure turned stiffly and fixed them in a sightless gaze.
It took Donna a moment or two to realize that it had been activated by some kind of electric eye. When the glass was touched, the mechanism was set in motion. The figure swayed slightly on its base, then was still.
Julie ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes, her heart racing.
‘Oh God,’ she murmured.
Donna too felt her heart thumping; the sudden shock made her tremble. She squeezed Julie’s hand and motioned for her to follow down the stairs that led to the ground floor.
They were halfway down when the thought struck her.
Why had Paxton not come to find the source of the scream? Why, at least, had he not called out? There was no question of him hearing the noise in the stillness of the waxworks. Where the hell was he?
Perhaps they had been his footsteps they’d heard above them earlier. But even so, why had he not come running to find out what was happening?
Donna licked her tongue across her dry lips and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Julie joined her.
‘What now?’ Julie wanted to know.
Donna glanced across into the gallery on the ground floor then at another doorway ahead of them marked PRIVATE.
She crossed to the door and found that it was unlocked. It opened out onto a narrow flight of stone steps. There was a cloying fusty smell rising from below, like drying clothes. It was cold in the narrow stairwell; the metal banister was freezing when she touched it.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘This must lead to the basement.’ She began to descend, and Julie followed. They trod carefully on the bare stone until, finally, Donna pushed open the door at the bottom and stepped out.
The smell here was even stronger. The odour of decay as well as damp was strong in her nostrils. She looked round.
The door from which they had emerged was also marked PRIVATE.
To the left was a light, well-illuminated area that contained various electronic games and fruit machines.
To the right, a set of steps led down into what looked like seething blackness. The darkness was so total that she wondered if they would even be able to proceed without the aid of a torch. There was a sign on the wall beside this entrance:
ALL THOSE WISHING TO LEAVE THE WAXWORKS HERE, KINDLY USE THE APPROPRIATE EXIT. IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOUNG CHILDREN OR THOSE OF A NERVOUS DISPOSITION LEAVE NOW.
Donna took a step closer to the top of the steps and peered down.
There were five stone stairs leading down to a wooden floor and a narrow stone corridor.
The smell of damp and rot seemed to waft from the doorway as if expelled from putrid lungs. There was a sign just inside the doorway, suspended from the ceiling by two rusty chains. Donna read it aloud.
‘Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.’ She smiled. ‘It would have been just like Chris to hide the Grimoire down there,’ Donna said, pointing towards the abyss beyond the steps. ‘It would have appealed to his sense of humour.’
‘What is it?’ Julie wanted to know, wrinkling her nose at the smell.
Donna raised her eyebrows.
‘The Chamber of Horrors.’