A chilling sort of awful
A strange kind of place
A howling in the distance
A twisted, crooked face
The shadows past the moonlight
The step upon the stair
The monster in the closet
The risk you shouldn’t dare
Where prayers are never answered
Where luck is always bad
Where dreams fall into nightmares
Where visions drive you mad
Prepare, for hope is fading
Prepare, for time is near
Prepare, to hear a story
Prepare, to face your fear…
Welcome, friends. I’m Romulus Blackwood, and this is…
BLACKWOOD THEATER
I certainly hope you enjoy your stay…
THE SIXTH EQUATION
Perhaps the elements themselves sensed what might transpire that evening, which would explain the violent thunderstorm that blew up late in the afternoon. It was after all the students and facility had left when Baxter and Baines made their way secretly to the basement laboratories. In the last room, tucked away deep in the utility closet, they produced their means of experimentation: Large chalkboards on wheels, half a dozen to be precise. They brought them out and lined them up like toy soldiers.
“The curtains,” motioned Baines. “Now open the shades and let them see us.”
Baxter did as he was told and drew back the long veil to reveal a second laboratory decorated with an abundance of glass windows. Within the room lay a row of operating tables draped with white sheets hiding a familiar set of shapes under their grisly cloth coatings. Baxter turned to his colleague, eyes brimming with fear, as a bolt of lightning shot past a side window.
“Are you sure about this? Did you…did you make certain that the door is locked?”
“Doubled-bolted,” smiled Baines. “The only exit is at our end. Relax. Nothing’s going to happen. They won’t be able to touch us. Now take your position and get ready…”
Baxter hurried over to the lead chalkboard as a rumble of thunder seemed to split the very heavens themselves. His hand trembled as he stood, waiting for instructions from his partner. Baines laughed with delight, grinning the whole time.
“Okay…the first equation…”
The chalk shook in Baxter’s fingers as he slowly scrawled the bizarre sequence of cryptic letters and numbers. Baines watched with a view half toward the second room. Another crack of lightning erupted outside.
“Good…now the second equation…”
Baxter made his way to the next chalkboard and produced another long line of puzzling digits and decimals. Again Baines watched intently as rain pelted the roof above. The wind hollered as if offering its objection.
“Continue with the third…”
This exercise was repeated until five of the chalkboards all bore the same mathematical graffiti. Now only one remained unblemished. Baxter trembled with immense dread.
“Are you sure? Once we do it…there’s…there’s no going back…”
“Science has no fear,” answered Baines. “Go on. Write the sixth equation…”
The thunder outside seemed to explode with fury as Baxter scribbled the final stretch of numbers upon the board. At their completion, he dropped the chalk to the floor and stepped back, as if ready to run in panic and fright.
“It didn’t work…it didn’t work….come on, let’s go…”
“Wait,” replied Baines, hand up, gaze fixed on the opposite room. “It may take a little while. Don’t you dare chicken out now…”
The meteorological chaos continued outside as all remained calm and quiet within the laboratory. Several anxious minutes passed and nothing happened. Baxter started heading for the exit.
“See? It was a dud. Mumbo jumbo. I told you this stuff wouldn’t jive…”
“Just wait,” insisted Baines. “Not yet. Give it one last…”
His words drifted off as there came a sudden movement from under a sheet in the adjoining lab. A jerking motion, followed by a groan, and then…then…
They rose slowly, akin to monsters from the deep, their death shrouds falling to the floor like discarded cocoons. Some with red eyes, others with missing flesh. All of them dead, but now, undead. Stumbling, they fell against the windows, staining the glass with their black, putrefied blood. Dark nails scraped the barrier between the two worlds. They moaned and pounded their fists ravenously.
Baines walked forward in astonishment, hands on the window, peering into the faces of his unholy miracles. Baxter collapsed, nearly in fits. He held his head and just shook all over.
“Oh no…oh no…this can’t be real…”
“It’s real,” smiled Baines, enchanted. “I knew that final equation was the key to everything…”
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