hallway was the mirror image of the other. Same gloomy carpet, same creepy wallpaper, same candles in brass holders.
Michael went back through to Dee's side. "Look-the candles even have the exact same drops of wax running down. It really is the same hallway, not just another one like it."
No matter how many times they went back and forth over the threshold, they kept getting the hallway.
"For some reason it's not letting us into your nightmare," Jenny said. "We just keep getting bounced back here."
"Oh, too bad," said Michael. "I'm really going to miss facing it."
"All right, let me see this." Dee finally went through, the door swinging shut behind her. "Yep, same place," she said, looking around. "Like a revolving door to hell."
"Wasn't it Sartre who said hell was eternity spent in a room with your friends?" Michael asked grandly.
"Oh, quit showing off your A in world literature," said Jenny. "Unless-was that your nightmare, Mike?"
Michael deflated a bit. "Uh, actually, no. Mine was more of a kid thing, really."
"But what was it?"
Michael seemed to be blushing. Scratching under the collar of his gray sweatshirt, he shook his head.
" 'Each of you has a secret you would rather die than reveal....'" Dee quoted portentously from the game card. "I'll bet it was something really embarrassing, like the potty monster, huh, Mikey?" As she spoke she turned the doorknob. It wouldn't budge. "Oh, great, it's locked again."
"If we're stuck here again, we might as well sit down," Audrey said.
There didn't seem to be anything else to do. They sat, and Michael talked. One thing you could always
count on, Jenny thought-that Michael wouldn't run out of things to talk about.
"When I think," said Michael, "that I could have stayed home and watched 'Ren and Stimpy' tonight..."
"This isn't much of a game. No reset. It's win, lose, or die," Michael said.
"You heard the one about the bunny and the hair dryer?" he said.
"Michael," Audrey said scathingly.
While he was talking, Michael had taken off one of his battered tennis shoes. It had a hole in the toe. Audrey stared in genteel horror at his limp sock on the floor.
"I can't help it-I've got an itch. Ah ... that's better," Michael said, scratching vigorously. "So what'd you say to-that guy-after we all got whooshed out of the parlor?" he said to Jenny. "I mean-" He fumbled for words as all three girls looked at him. "I mean-it was pretty obvious what he wanted-and you said he kept you there alone-"
"Whatever he wants," Jenny said shortly, "he's not getting it."
"Of course not," Audrey huffed. "What an idea." "She wouldn't give him the time of day," Dee said curtly.
"I don't even know what he sees in me," Jenny said.
The others all looked at each other. Then Dee snorted. "No, you wouldn't, would you? But everybody else does. Except Zach, probably, but then he's your cousin."
"It's not just looks," Audrey said. "You're good. Too good, sometimes. I've told you-"
"Aba would say your soul is straight," Dee interrupted.
"Just like a Girl Scout," Michael said helpfully. "Sweet and simple and honest."
"But he's bad," Jenny said.
"That's the point," Dee said. "Badness always wants goodness."
"And opposites attract," Audrey said grimly. "Look at Michael and me."
Michael said hastily, "So who do you think he is, anyway?"
"I think he's a Visitor," Dee said, to Jenny's surprise. "You know, an alien that abducts people."
Michael stared, scratching his chin. Audrey frowned.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "He's no alien-just look at him. And where's his spaceship?"
"I think he can look like whatever he wants to," Dee said, scratching her arm. "And maybe they don't really need spaceships. He's taken us to another planet, hasn't he?"
"Another world, maybe. There's a difference," Audrey shot back. "And according to him he did it with a rune. Which makes him-"
"What? The Erlking? I don't think so, dear. You're just saying that because it's what you're most afraid of."
"And Visitors are what you're most afraid of, dear," Audrey said, working her perfect nails over her palm. It was turning into a vintage Dee-Audrey feud.
"Girls, girls," Michael said. "Personally, I think he's a demon. Jenny's demon lover." He smiled ingenuously, digging under his collar again. Dee and Audrey both glared. Jenny just felt a chill deep inside.
"Look, I believe in demons," Michael said. "Why shouldn't they exist? And if they do exist, that guy has gotta be one."
Throughout this conversation Jenny had gradually become aware of a discomfort. The skin on her arm was tingling-no, itching. She scratched at it absently, but the itching