Fatal Franchise
Chase Trenton stepped out of his rented Toyota Corolla, removed his luggage from the trunk and headed across the parking lot toward the entrance of the Hilton Hotel.
New Jersey! he thought with a frown.
Although he had never envisioned himself as his generation's answer to James Dean, Laurence Olivier or Marlon Brando, he also never imagined when he decided to become an actor that he would someday wind up in Parsippany, New Jersey, signing autographs for teenagers with neon blue hair, tattoos and multiple body piercings. His sour mood did not improve when he walked up to the front desk and gave the clerk his name.
"Do you have a reservation, Mr. Trenton?" the young woman asked; clearly, she had not recognized him.
"I'm one of the stars appearing at the Chiller Theater Expo."
The young woman leaned forward slightly and squinted her eyes to get a better look at his face.
"Were the American Werewolf?" she asked.
"No. That was Wendell Haig."
"Really? You look just like him."
"I was the star of the Death Mask franchise," he replied, wearing a false smile and keeping a tight rein on his temper.
"You mean all those horror movies where the killer was a stage actor and wore masks and costumes when he slaughtered sexy young women?"
"Yes. I played Bobby Aston in all eight films."
"I wasn't born when they came out in theaters, but I remember watching one on TV with my friends from college. I think it took place in New Orleans."
"It must have been Death Mask IV: Mardi Gras Madness."
"That's right. So, you played Bobby Aston, huh? My roommate claimed you were a male version of Neve Campbell in Scream because you always managed to evade the killer."
Like most successful horror movie franchises, the Death Mask films had an iconic villain. Thespian, Death Mask's antagonist, differed from his fellow killers in that, as an actor, he had access to hundreds of costumes. Rather than the ubiquitous hockey mask of Jason Voorhees, the William Shatner mask worn by Michael Myers or the Ghostface mask that concealed various killers in the Scream franchise, moviegoers never knew in what guise Thespian would appear. In the first film, simply entitled Death Mask, he donned the long-beaked mask of a plague doctor. In the sequel Death Mask II: The 5th of November, he wore a Guy Fawkes mask. In the succeeding sequels, he dressed as a clown, a Day of the Dead mariachi player, an evil Easter Bunny, Krampus, the Joker, Pinhead, the Phantom of the Opera and at least two dozen other disguises.
Once he had his keycard in hand, Chase rolled his luggage to the elevator and went up to his room. Upon entering, he walked to the mirror and gazed at his reflection.
"I don't look anything like Wendell Haig," he declared. "I'm much better looking than he is. That girl must need glasses."
But then, what did you expect from someone from New Jersey?
* * *
After grabbing a burger in the hotel restaurant, Chase headed for the bar. Thankfully, since the convention was not due to start until the following evening, there were few fans in the hotel. Of the few who had checked in already, most were too young to drink.
"Hey, Trenton!" he heard a familiar voice call.
He turned and saw a group of actors, many of whom appeared in HBO's Silent Partner, a short-lived series about organized crime that never achieved the success The Sopranos enjoyed.
"Frazier!" he said with surprise. "I didn't know you were going to be here."
Frazier MacVane had played a detective in Death Mask VII: Devil in Disguise before going on to better roles.
"I need the money. When the writers went on strike, Fox canceled my series."
"I guess we're all in the same boat," Chase said, looking at the other actors who nodded their heads in agreement.
In truth, the strike did not affect him since he had not been given a role since Death Mask VIII: Mask of the Red Death, the last installment of the franchise. That was sixteen years ago. If it weren't for the occasional personal appearances and autograph signings at conventions, he would have had to resort to getting a job outside the entertainment industry.
"I heard your old friend Tansy is supposed to be here on Sunday," Bucky Pointer, a former child actor from the Eighties, announced. "She was never in a horror movie, was she? The only thing I ever saw her in was Sister Anna Maria, where she played a crime-solving nun."
"A lot of the celebrities here weren't in horror films," Chase explained. "Some of the guests aren't even actors. We've got wrestlers, musicians, writers, makeup artists."
Indeed, when the group of men entered the bar, they encountered a motley crew of individuals. Most were one-time stars who were past their prime. Also, many guests were the acting equivalent of music's one-hit wonders: performers who appeared in hit television shows decades earlier and whose careers died when those shows were canceled.
Every year, amidst the has-beens and never-weres, the convention promoters included one or two stars of a current hit television show to draw in the crowds. This year was no exception. Axyl Stolley, best known to TV audiences as the sexy vampire in Hulu's They Walk Among Us, was the main attraction of this year's gathering. His exalted status as a current teenage heartthrob meant he would not be joining the lesser luminaries at the bar. Instead, he would have his meals and drinks delivered to him in his suite.
"I'll have a rum and Coke," Chase told the bartender who seemed unimpressed by the quasi-celebrities in the room.
While waiting for his drink, the actor heard his cell phone signal an incoming text message. Since he had little interest in sharing Frazier MacVane and Bucky Pointer's stroll down memory lane, he turned away from them to read it. He failed to recognize the sender's number. There was no actual written message, just a photograph. At first, he assumed it was a still taken from movie footage. Upon closer examination, however, he realized that the woman in the photo, Sandy Wigmore, was nearly thirty years older and twenty-five pounds heavier than when the movie was shot.
"What the ...?" he murmured.
"Something wrong?" Frazier asked.
"Look at what someone sent me," Chase replied, handing his former co-star his iPhone.
"Isn't this a scene from Death Mask III?"
"Not exactly. Look at Sandy. She's aged considerably in that photo. But everything else is the same right down to the Daisy Duke shorts and skimpy top she's wearing."
"Come to think of it, she does seem fatter than I remember."
In Death Mask III: Man in the Iron Mask, a twenty-two-year-old Sandy Wigmore was found lying on her back on a pool table. Thespian had impaled her with a cue stick and wedged a black eight ball between her teeth, giving her the appearance of a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth. The photographer obviously tried to duplicate the scene in his photo.
"This must be some kind of joke," Frazier opined. "Who sent it to you?"
"I don't know, but ...."
"What?"
"It looks so real! It's as though Sandy was actually dead when this picture was taken."
"These days, people can do almost anything with Photoshop. Hell, I bet this is a picture taken when the movie was made, and someone just doctored it so that she looks older and heavier."
"I suppose you're right."
"Of course, I'm right. You don't honestly think some nutcase went to all the trouble of killing Sandy Wigmore in the same manner she died in the movie?"
"No, I suppose not," Chase said.
And if someone did, why would they send a photograph of the crime to him?
* * *
Shortly before ten, Chase put an empty glass down on the bar and announced, "That's it for me."
"What?" Frazier exclaimed. "The night is still young. Have another drink."
"No, thanks. I want to have a clear head tomorrow."
"What's the matter?" Bucky teased. "Can't you can't write your name if you have a hangover?"
"It's not signing autographs that I'm concerned about. It's those damn Q&A sessions. All the trivial details the fans want to know about. At the last convention I attended, one teenager asked how I managed to get out of the cremation chamber in Death Mask VI, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember even being in one!"
After bidding the other actors goodnight, Chase headed for his room. When the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to see a woman in an elaborate costume. Had she dressed up like a vampire or zombie, he might not have given her a second glance. However, this woman looked as though she were ready to attend the Carnival in Venice. Although he was no expert on historical fashions, he estimated that the style of her floor-length pink dress and cape dated back to the sixteenth or seventeenth century. There was a stiff white ruff on her neck and around her wrists similar to those worn in Elizabeth I's court. Beneath the matching pink hat, she wore a white mask with almond-shaped eyeholes and red-painted lips. The overall impression she created was downright eerie.
I wonder why she's dressed up now. The costume contest isn't scheduled until Saturday night.
The doors began to close, so he quickly stepped out of the elevator. At the same time, the costumed woman stepped inside. The elevator descended, and he found himself standing alone in the hallway.
Later that night, Chase was in a mental state between being asleep and being awake when his cell phone signaled another text. Was it real or was he dreaming? He reached across the night table and felt for his iPhone. When he opened his eyes, he saw it was the same unknown number that had sent him that weird photograph of Sandy Wigmore. This second photo was more of the same. Only this time, the woman in the picture was Cindy Lou Throop, who was one of Thespian's victims in Death Mask VI: Carnival of Death. Again, the photo on his phone bore an uncanny similarity to the death scene in the movie. In the film, Cindy Lou portrayed a scantily clad magician's assistant who had been beheaded by one of her employer's stage props, a fake guillotine.
"We used a fake head with a face made to look like Cindy Lou's," Chase told Frazier MacVane the following morning when the two men met for coffee. "But look at the features in his photo. Don't they look real?"
"They sure do. But like I said yesterday, they can do amazing things with Photoshop."
"Yes, but why?"
"Who knows? I once saw a video on the internet where someone put Jim Carrey's face over Jack Nicholson's in a scene from The Shining. Damn! If it didn't look like the real thing! Why did they do it? Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe some poor soul with a boring job was sitting at his desk and had nothing better to do with his time."
"But why send these photos to me?"
"You're the one who lived in all those films. Seems to me, you'd be the logical choice."
Chase swallowed two Advils with his coffee to ease his aching head and then went to the ballroom to locate his table. Along the way, he searched for the woman in the pink Carnival costume, but there was no sign of her.
* * *
The Chiller Theater Expo, which had begun on Friday evening, was due to end on Sunday afternoon at four o'clock. Most of the attendees were already gone, and the vendors were beginning to pack up their wares. Chase was disappointed because he hadn't sold an autographed photo since two. In fact, the entire three-day event had been a letdown. Envy fought with self-pity when he looked at the long line outside the room where Axyl Stolley was charging fans $150 for a photo op with him.
Enjoy it now, Chase thought bitterly. Once your show goes off the air, you'll be lucky if someone asks to take a selfie with you.
By ten to four, Frazier MacVane and Bucky Pointer were both gone, but Chase stayed until the bitter end, hoping to sell at least one more $20 photo of himself. When he finally called it quits, he noticed there were still a dozen people in line to have their pictures taken with Axyl. He walked over to them, holding a stack of eight-by-ten glossies from Death Mask VIII in his hand.
"Anyone interested in buying one of these?" he asked with his brightest smile. "I'll let you have them for only $10 each."
When no one took him up on his offer, he dropped the price to $5. Still, there were no takers.
As he walked away, he heard one of the teenagers ask his friend, "Who the hell was that guy?"
"I don't know," the other young man replied. "No one famous, that's for sure."
Downcast, the out-of-work actor shuffled off toward the elevator with his unsold merchandise in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to get his suitcase out of his room and leave New Jersey behind. At half past four, when he went to the lobby to check out, the clerk told him he had visitors.
"I do?" he asked with surprise.
Two gentlemen in conservative suits approached him.
"Are you Chase Trenton?" the older of the two inquired.
"Yeah. Who are you?"
"I'm Detective Attlee, and this is my partner Detective Milken. We'd like to talk to you in private. Could you come with us?"
Their badges indicated both men were from the NYPD.
What are they doing in New Jersey? the actor wondered. And why do they want to talk to me?
"What's this about?" he asked.
Neither detective answered until they were behind closed doors.
"Do you know an actress by the name of Tabby Purday?" Attlee asked, taking the lead role in the interview.
"Yeah. We worked together in the film Death Mask II: The 5th of November. It was shot on location in England. Why?"
Milken took a folder out of his briefcase. It contained several crime scene photographs. Like the two pictures Chase had received by text that weekend, it was a recreation of a scene from the movie. An older Tabby Purday was tied to a stake and set on fire during a Guy Fawkes Day celebration. Only this was no wax figure. The charred body was once a human being.
"All this for real then?" he asked Attlee.
"What makes you think it isn't?"
"Because I received two other similar photos. The first was of Sandy Wigmore and the second was Cindy Lou Throop."
"Did you notify the police?"
"No. We assumed they were Photoshopped and sent as a joke."
"We?"
"Frazier MacVane and I. He's another actor who was here at the convention."
"Did you keep those photos?"
"I'm sure they're here on my phone."
"Who sent them to you?"
"I don't know. I didn't recognize the number, and there was no message sent with them."
"We'll need to confiscate your phone," Milken said.
"But I need it," the actor objected.
"It's evidence," Attlee said. "You'll just have to make do without it for now."
* * *
No sooner did Chase Trenton walk off the plane at LAX than two detectives from the LAPD approached him with their badges out. Like their counterparts in New York, they wanted to question him about the deaths of his former costars, Sandy Wigmore and Cindy Lou Throop.
"Would you come with us?" asked Detective Bourne, who looked more like an athlete turned action star hired to play a police officer than an actual member of the force.
"Do I have any choice?" he laughed. "Let me get my luggage first."
The two detectives followed the actor to the baggage claim carrousel and then escorted him to their unmarked police car.
"I suppose the cops from New York told you about the photos I received."
"Yes, they did. Tabby Purday was found in Manhattan, which is in their jurisdiction, but Sandy Wigmore and Cindy Lou Throop were killed here. We're investigating their deaths."
"You don't think I had anything to do with this, do you?" Chase asked.
"No," Bourne replied. "We know you were at the convention signing autographs when all three women were murdered."
"I never thought I'd say it, but for once in my life I'm glad I was in New Jersey!"
"We want to talk to you because you worked with all three victims."
"You're the common denominator," Detective Wildman added. "We've determined that each of those three Death Mask movies was filmed in a different location, and each had a different director. There were also different makeup artists, screenwriters and so forth. But you were in all three movies."
"But like you said, I was in New Jersey when the women were killed."
"Perhaps we didn't make ourselves clear," Bourne declared. "We don't think you're the killer, but we hope you might be able to help us find him."
"How? I don't know anything about these murders other than what you and the cops in New York told me."
"But the killer doesn't know that," Wildman said in a tone of voice that sent a chill down the actor's spine.
"You want to use me as bait to draw this guy out. Is that it?"
The detectives' silence was tantamount to an affirmative answer.
"No way!" Chase exclaimed. "I'm not going to risk my life!"
"If this killer is determined to keep focusing on actors from the Death Mask franchise, then your life is already in danger," Bourne reasoned.
"You needn't fear for your safety," his partner added. "We can give you police protection."
"Why does that not make me feel any better?" Chase groaned.
* * *
By the time the LAPD released a statement that they had key information that would soon lead to the arrest of the killer, two more victims came to light. Kiley Tenby, who had retired from acting after appearing in Death Mask VII: Masquerade Party and was working as a real estate agent in San Francisco, was found hanging from a flagpole. Only two hours later, Jessie Dobbs, who was featured in Death Mask V: Devil in Disguise, was discovered in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Her body was draped over an archery target and pierced with eight arrows.
When the detectives investigating the five deaths compared notes, they established the chronology of the killings based on the estimated times of death.
"There's no way one person could have committed all these murders," Bourne declared. "According to the medical examiners, Sandy Wigmore was the first victim and Tabby Purday the second. That means the killer would have had to travel from L.A. to New York and come back to California to kill the third victim, Kiley Tenby, in San Francisco. Then it would be on to Pittsburgh to murder Jessie Dobbs before returning to L.A. to kill Cindy Lou Throop. All that in a period of roughly twenty-four hours! Unless someone could magically teleport from place to place, we're dealing with more than one killer."
The following day, Layla Northcliff, Thespian's first victim in the original Death Mask movie, was found entombed in a coffin in Boston. She had been buried alive. It was estimated that she had died around the same time as Kiley Tenby, again making it impossible for one man (or woman) to have killed both victims.
While detectives across the country were quietly trying to solve the mystery of the Death Mask killings, Chase Trenton remained in a hotel room with a police officer stationed outside his door.
"Have you had any break in the case?" he asked Wildman when the detective paid him an unannounced visit. "Do you have a suspect yet?"
"No. In fact, we've come to the conclusion that there's more than one person involved."
This news took the actor by surprise.
"How many?"
"We're not sure. Perhaps there are only two, but we're not ruling out that possibility that all six women were murdered by six different killers."
"And I'm supposed to remain here until all of them have been apprehended?"
"No. We've decided using you as bait is no longer a viable plan. You're free to go."
Chase took the news with mixed emotions. On the one hand, he was glad to be free again. On the other, he feared for his safety.
"I wouldn't worry too much," Detective Wildman told the actor after dismissing the police officer from his guard duty. "Since you never died in any of the movies, there's no way the killers can copy your death scene."
"That's true," Chase said as relief swept over him. "I was the survivor, the Neve Campbell of the Death Mask franchise."
After collecting his belongings, he left the hotel and rather than call an Uber to drive him home, he decided to walk the three miles to his apartment house. He had been locked in a hotel room, watching Netflix and doing sudoku puzzles since returning from New Jersey. He was glad to get the opportunity to stretch his legs. A smile lit up his face when he spied a Starbucks on the corner.
"A cup of americano will be heaven after drinking that bitter hotel coffee."
Before crossing the street, he looked both ways to check for cars. No vehicles to the left. He then turned his head to the right. Suddenly, he felt as though his heart were caught in his throat. On the sidewalk, roughly a block away from him, he saw the same unknown woman that he had encountered near the elevator of the Hilton Hotel in New Jersey. At least, he assumed it was the same woman because she wore the same pink Venetian Carnival-style costume.
Forgetting about his coffee, he hurried toward the retreating figure. She was less than twenty feet ahead of him when she turned the corner. He followed but lost sight of her on the near-vacant side street.
"Where did she go?" he wondered.
* * *
Come morning, the police in New Orleans and Chicago found the remains of two more former actresses. Liddy Bruckner who appeared in Death Mask VII: Mardi Gras Madness was found in Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, strangled with green, gold and purple strands of Mardi Gras beads. A fleur-de-lis had been branded into her forehead. Two days later, Monique Ferris, Thespian's final victim of the franchise, was killed in the same manner as she was in Death Mask VIII: Mask of the Red Death. She was electrocuted while taking a dip in a hot tub.
"That makes one victim from each of the eight movies," Chase observed when Detective Bourne informed him of the latest death. "Perhaps this means the killer or killers are going to stop."
By Chase's calculation, Thespian murdered forty-six women before meeting his own death when the franchise concluded. He remained a mystery to the end. Moviegoers never discovered his true identity. They never saw his face, learned his name or ascertained his motive for killing. The only detail about his life they were ever party to was that he was an actor and liked to dress up and murder women.
A month went by with no new victims. Although many of the detectives involved feared their cases would go cold, Chase was delighted by what he saw as the termination of the killing spree.
His mood would have improved greatly had his encounters with the Venetian Carnival woman not increased. Two or three times a week, he would catch a glimpse of the pink dress and white mask in a crowd, only to have her vanish before he could confront her.
"It seems as though she's stalking me," he muttered to himself. "Maybe I ought to report her to the police."
However, he was soon to realize that the cessation of murders was temporary. Like the eye of a hurricane, the quiet eventually gave way to a new onslaught of death. In one day, three more women who had once appeared in a Death Mask movie were found savagely murdered: the first in Seattle, the second in Denver and the third in Las Vegas. With not a single suspect for any of the eleven homicides, the detectives from New York and Los Angeles decided to call in the federal authorities. Unfortunately, since it was obvious more than one murderer was involved, it was difficult for the Behavioral Science Unit to formulate a psychological profile of the killer.
Given the resources of the FBI, Special Agent Cathy Massie decided the best course of action was to keep an eye on potential victims. She printed out a list of names of the forty-six women who were fictionally butchered, slaughtered and brutalized in the eight movies in the franchise. She crossed off the names of the eleven women known to have actually been murdered to date.
"That gives us thirty-five women whose lives might be in danger," Cathy Massie told the agents in her task force.
However, after a quick background check, she discovered that four of the women were deceased. One had succumbed to cancer, two were killed in traffic accidents and one died as the result of a drug overdose.
"That leaves thirty-one women spread out over eighteen states. Let's assign a special agent to each of them."
The day the plan went into action, agents learned that six of the women were missing. Given the suspicious circumstances under which they disappeared, it could be assumed that they were all dead, possibly murdered by the Death Mask killers.
"Let the local police forces work those cases," Special Agent Massie instructed her team. "We'll concentrate our efforts on sticking to the twenty-five women we know are still alive and hoping we catch these guys before they strike again."
Despite the FBI's diligence, all twenty-five women died within six months. The only thing that saved the Bureau from having their failure become a major embarrassment was the fact that because the victims were spread out across the country and the police departments involved managed to keep a lid on the sensational and gory details of the crimes, the media—both legitimate news sources and tabloid rags—were unaware that any of the deaths were connected to the movie franchise. Thus, there was never any press coverage of a Death Mask serial killer.
* * *
Chase Trenton read Lynn Van Vleck's obituary in the Savannah Morning News and closed the lid of his laptop. He felt physically ill. All forty-six of his costars were gone! All but two of them, Sandy and Cindy Lou, had quit acting. Most of the women were married with children.
"Why kill them?" he cried, pouring himself a glass of Jack Daniels. "What did they ever do to anybody?"
Needing a refill, he put his empty glass down on the table and reached for the bottle. His arm stopped in its journey when he heard his front door open.
"Who's there?" he called.
There was no answer.
He turned his head, and his heart raced when he caught a glimpse of pink velvet. Chase jumped up from his chair and ran into the living room, half expecting to find it empty. On this occasion, though, the Venetian Carnival woman did not disappear.
"You!" he exclaimed. "You've been stalking me for nearly a year now. What gives?"
When his visitor did not reply, he took a step forward and bombarded her with more questions.
"Who are you? Why are you following me? Why are you dressed that way? What do you want?"
Once he was close enough that he could reach out and touch her, his queries turned into a command.
"Take off that mask."
"No."
Surprisingly, the voice was not that of a female. The person in the elaborate pink gown was a man.
"Who are you?" Chase demanded to know.
"Haven't you figured that out yet, Bobby?" the man behind the mask taunted him by calling him by the name of his character in the Death Mask movies.
"If I knew who you were, I wouldn't have asked. I want an answer. Who are you?"
"You don't get to know my name—not my real name."
Chase reached out his hand, but his visitor easily avoided him.
"You can't see my face either," the stranger added. "The true identity of Thespian will forever remain unknown."
"You're insane!"
"Do you know there are thirteen movies in the Halloween franchise and twelve in Friday the 13th?"
"So?"
"Why was I killed off after only eight?"
Chase was stunned by the question. The man in the pink dress was obviously a complete lunatic.
"Do you really think you're Thespian?"
"I know I am. I've proven it by killing those forty-six women. Furthermore, I plan to add to that body count. I fully intend to surpass Pinhead in the Hellraiser franchise who now leads the horror genre with over three hundred victims. But unlike him, I plan to kill them one at a time. First ...."
With a swish of the pink dress, the killer pounced on his prey. One white-gloved hand grasped the actor's wrist; the other reached for his throat. Thespian may have been dressed as a woman, but he had the strength of an exceedingly strong man. Despite the hand clutching his windpipe, Chase managed to force out two words with great difficulty.
"Bobby ... survived."
"True. But I'm writing the script and directing the action now."
After several failed attempts during the course of the eight movies, Thespian finally succeeded in ending the life of Buddy Aston. With the actor's body lying at his feet, the masked killer faced an uncertain future. For the first time in his homicidal career, Thespian had no blueprint to follow. He was on his own as regards the choice of victim and method of death. But the world was full of vulnerable young women. He did not doubt that given his vivid imagination, he would succeed in his quest.
I can't believe Salem spent $150 to have his photo taken at Chiller. Just think of all the chocolate he could have bought with that money!
