Pandemonium

“Oh, and I’m going to need scissors,” she said. “Margarete, could you fetch a pair? This place should be full of them.” Margarete spun away, the skirt of her dress parting to expose a length of tanned thigh. “And Doctor, I need you to unlock the door for me.”

Frederick straightened. “I should be the one to go, she’s not going to do anything to me.”

“I need to talk to her before she leaves,” Dr. Wolff said. “However, I won’t leave you out, Frederick. You can play bodyguard. In a few minutes I’ll need you and the doctor to hold her down for me.”

Dr. Randolph felt his stomach clench. “I’m not sure I should—”

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” Dr. Wolff said. “You’re not her type.”

Dr. Randolph pulled the keys from his pocket, then struggled to find the right one. He could feel the hospital staff watching him. When he placed the key in the lock, the girl inside suddenly quieted.

“Please, Dr. Wolff, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go in there,”

Frederick said.

“Pffft!” she said. Then louder, “My little angel! We’ve found the keys. We’re going to have you out in a jiffy.” She pronounced it zhiffy.

“It’s about time!” the little girl said.

Dr. Randolph pulled the door open, and Dr. Wolff immediately rolled forward, blocking the doorway. “My, aren’t you a pretty little girl!”

Dr. Randolph looked at her through the window. She was a pretty girl. Her face was pale and elfin. Her hair hung in long, golden brown ringlets. The girl looked at Dr. Wolff suspiciously. “I know you,” she said. “You were at that other place.”

“That’s right, we met last year.”

“You’re old,” the little girl said. “Very old.”

“Yes I am.” She rolled forward a few inches. “But let’s talk about you, my little angel. Tell me about the first place you ever visited. Can you remember that?”

The girl tilted her head. “You’re sick, too, aren’t you? You’re dying. ”

Margarete came up behind Dr. Randolph. “Oh no,” she said quietly.

“Don’t worry about me,” Dr. Wolff said. “Tell me a story about your adventures. Do you remember visiting Kansas City?” She rolled farther into the room. Margarete and Frederick exchanged a look.

“You’re really ’fraid,” the girl said. She stepped forward, her filmy white nightgown swishing around her mud-stained legs. Dr. Wolff said, “I have something in my purse I’d like to show you. Do you like surprises?”

“You can’t fool me,” the little girl said. “You’re afraid it’s going to hurt when you die. You’re afraid it’s going to take a long, long time.”

Frederick spun around the frame of the door and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. The little girl screamed. Frederick hauled Dr. Wolff backward out the door, her legs kicking up. As soon as the chair had cleared the doorway Margarete lunged into the room and tackled the little girl to the floor.

You weren’t supposed to touch the Little Angel, Dr. Randolph thought. That was the first rule.

“Frederick!” Dr. Wolff said. “Get Margarete out of there!”

The demon threw off Margarete and sent her crashing against the far bed. Her strength, for a child, was enormous. Dr. Randolph ducked back out of sight.

“Meg!” Frederick said.

Dr. Wolff took the purse from her lap and tossed it at Dr. Randolph.

“Doctor, get the syringe.”

Dr. Randolph stared at her.

“Twenty cc’s should do it,” Dr Wolff said. “Enough to slow her down without killing the girl.”

Dr. Randolph opened the purse and withdrew a syringe. “What’s in this?” He withdrew the plastic cap from the needle.

“She’s u-up,” Frederick said quietly.

“You,” Dr. Randolph heard the girl say. “You were mean to me last time.”

“Sorry about that,” Frederick said. He raised his arms and stood in front of Dr. Wolff. Dr. Randolph pressed his back against the wall, out of sight of the girl. He gripped the syringe tightly in his damp hands. The girl walked forward. “You’re young,” she said. “Not sick at all.”

“That’s right. Fit as a fiddle.”

“But you’re mean.”

The girl walked out of the room. Dr. Randolph held the syringe at his