Martin waited for the last Halloween audience to leave before he switched on the auditorium lights. A plastic spider hung from the balcony rail, turning in the draft from the lobby. He locked the entrance, checked the stage door, and wheeled his cleaning cart down the center aisle. After eleven years at the old theater, he knew which seats snapped shut hard enough to catch a finger and where the floor dipped beneath the carpet. He worked from the back toward the stage. Sweet wrappers. A spilled drink. Halfway down, a crumpled program lay beneath an aisle seat, just beyond the reach of his litter picker.

He bent and put one knee on the carpet. The program had caught around the seat’s rear leg. Martin reached for its corner, then stopped. Two red eyes were open beneath the seat. Not reflections. They stayed fixed on him when he shifted his head. His fingers were still on the paper. Beyond them, something breathed out, slowly enough that he felt the warmth move over his knuckles. He let go. The program settled without a sound.

Martin rose. The eyes rose with him. A head came up from behind the seat, followed by shoulders that should not have fitted beneath it. As it reached the aisle light, its features changed. The brow settled into the crease above Martin’s left eye. A pale scar appeared beside its mouth, the same little scar he caught with his razor every morning. It stood facing him across the armrest, wearing his face. It just stared. Then it tilted its head and smiled. Every light in the theater went out at once. The aisle lights. The stage. Even the exit signs. Pitch black.

A blood-curdling scream.

If you saw your own face staring back from under a seat, would you reach for it? When tender, damaged skin needs care without touching or rubbing, NutriCore Vital delivers no-touch wound care. Spray as directed and let it dry. Some nights, hands off sounds like a very good idea.

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