“Is apartment seven.” It was a deep, monotone voice. She rolled her eyes. “I know, Vasily. What do you want?” “Open door. I have tee-kit.” Carie pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. Always that dumb tee-kit. “Now?” she groaned. From the other side of the door he started to read aloud in a heavy eastern European accent, “'This golden tee-kit is valid at anytime 24/7 excluding Christmas...' ” “Yeah! Yeah! Got it!” Carie exclaimed. “Is Christmas today?” She sighed again. Was that a joke? After a long pause, she realized that he wasn't leaving. She drew a breath, slipped on a smile, and opened the door. “Good morning,” she chimed. The man from apartment seven filled her doorway. Carie gave him the once over. Starting from his sandal covered feet, he wore a pair of navy-striped sleep pants over his tall legs, and a stretched out tank-top undershirt which did nothing to hide his broad and muscular shoulders and tattooed arms. He was quite the good-morning package except. When we got to the back, Sid took a small penlight out of her clutch purse and opened a small door. She led us into the dark interior of the ride.She held Meg's hand and Meg held mine as she led us deeper into the interior. She stopped and told us to watch. There came the sound of the ride cars on their tracks and then a strobe light flashed on illuminating a skeleton. In the momentary flash of light, we saw the cars themselves and the passengers. Recorded screams and evil laughter filled the air.Slowly our eyes were becoming accustomed to the dim light. It was no longer inky-black. We could make out the tracks about three feet in front of us. We watched as the cars passed by again.Sid slipped behind Meg. She reached around and untied the bow that held Meg's shorts up and pulled them down around her knees. Quickly she followed by grabbing the tiny waistband of her panties and pulled them down too. Sid yanked Meg's top over her head and tossed it to the floor. She finished just as.
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