A/N: The story behind this one is that I had been thinking about the list for the 100 fanart challenge for story ideas (see FanArt100 on DA). When I remembered "Purple," a certain item from the Give Yourself Goosebumps series popped into my mind.

At one point, I considered setting this in an AU of Deal with the Dummy where Slappy didn't ruin his happy ending and continued to live with the Zinmans, and he had to help an older Jillian. However, I decided to write something closer to the canon version of Slappy instead of the quasi-reformed puppet that befriended Jillian. So, yes, this is supposed to be creepy. If Joyce Carol Oates's short story, "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" isn't your cup of tea, you might not like this fic. (However, honest feedback is welcomed. If you don't like this fic, let me know because constructive criticism is something I can learn from and use for future stories.)

The three Zinman sisters had their own ways to handle delayed gratification in times of tried patience. On a couch in the lobby of the Stagger Inn, the girls had much to observe, like the skeletons in the surrounding chairs - or the headless man playing the organ - or the employee at the front desk (known as a Horror) who wore a realistic monster costume with horns - or the screams and laughter echoing from outside as other park guests enjoyed the HorrorLand attractions. However, the girls has spent the morning trekking through the park, working up their appetites, which would not be satisfied until their parents rendezvoused for lunch.

Their trip to HorrorLand coincided with Mr. and Mrs. Zinman's 20th wedding anniversary, and the happy couple celebrated it in their preferred way: a romantic breakfast together, reminiscing over the hectic but fun morning of their nuptials, and then back to join their three daughters for family time, ending in a nice dinner. Unfortunately, their parents were already fifteen minutes late, and each girl tried to ignore her hunger pangs

Jillian, the eldest and two months shy of her nineteenth birthday, had been to Busch Gardens once on a class trip. In anticipation for the wait time for rides and to get herself into the spooky spirit of the theme park, she had brought along a collection of suspenseful short stories which she carried in her purse. She finished Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado" and Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery", checked her phone in vain for a message from her parents, and continued, reading now Oates's "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" Her small pink mouth thinned as she ignored the empty feeling in her abdomen. She told herself that her parents had every right to lose track of time on such a milestone day.

Twelve-year-old Amanda sat on Jillian's right with her purple-clothed legs crossed, using one thigh as a makeshift desk for her sketch pad. Her round blue eyes darted from the pencil scratches to the curly horns of the Horror at the front desk and then back. The miniature Da Vinci doodled a few cobwebs around her subject before she flipped to a fresh page and attempted to draw a nearby vase of black roses, trying very hard not to breathe in the yummy smells from a food tray as a bellhop Horror passed with someone else's "Doom Service."

Katie, Amanda's twin, stretched out on Jillian's other side, slumped against the couch with her black ponytail hanging over the backrest. A pair of headphones which used to belong to Jillian rested on her head, emitting Elvis songs from a MP3 player. While the King of Rock'n'Roll lamented about dating a devil in disguise, Katie counted the one hundred and thirty-five empty eye sockets on the surrounding skeletons (five of the skulls had more than two) for the tenth time, looked up as the food tray passed, and groaned. "Ugh, I'm so hungry, I feel nauseous," she declared, pulling off her headphones. "Can't we buy a snack while we wait for them?"

Jillian's green eyes shifted from the description of the shaggy-haired Arnold Friend to give her younger sister a look similar to what their mother would have given her. "You got money?"

"Not after all the stuff she bought this morning, she doesn't," said Amanda without looking up from the sketchpad.

"You bought stuff too," her twin retorted. "How many headbands with the HorrorLand logo did you actually need?"

"More than all those novelty 'poison' rings you stuffed into your suitcase."

Katie then slid closer to Jillian and took her long arm. She playfully gave her puppy eyes, sticking out her lower lip. "Big sister, I'll love you forever if you buy me a snack."

"Ooh, such a bargain," replied Jillian, flipping Katie's long bangs. "But I don't have much cash on me, and you have to take out a second mortgage just to buy churros at these kinds of theme parks."

"Any place we can sell a kidney real quick?" the younger girl joked, laying her dark head on Jillian's shoulder.

Jillian gave Katie a friendly shake. "Just wait for Mom and Dad to get back, and we'll hunt for lunch. They're probably stuck in some crowd or decided to try out one of the rides while they got some alone time."

Jillian glanced back at her short story. Unfortunately, she fell upon the paragraph where Connie and Eddie "ate hamburgers and drank Cokes in wax cups that were always sweating," and the words conjured vivid images that made her mouth water. She tucked her bookmark in place and shut the paperback.

Amanda sighed and tucked her short black hair behind her pink ear. "I wish this free vacation included free food," she said and began to doodle a hamburger in the corner of the page, then a series of bagels and triangular sandwiches. "Wouldn't it be nice to get some room service?"

"There's no such thing as a free lunch," said Jillian, quoting their father's favorite saying when he handed them their allowance. She patted Amanda's crossed leg. "A free stay for us means money the hotel isn't making. Free food means more profit loss."

Katie fiddled with the volume on her player, and strands of "Blue Suede Shoes" rose and fell. "When we were in Zombie Plaza earlier, I heard some kids saying they won a contest for this place too, but they got free room service and ShockALate bars."

"Maybe their school had a different deal with the park than yours?" suggested Jillian. "Like, maybe they sold more candy bars or something?"

"I guess that makes sense," agreed Katie, knitting her brow. "All we had to do was enter a raffle and fill out a card about what scares us most. It was a pretty sweet way for me to win us this vacation."

Amanda scribbled harder on her paper. "Since two Zinmans entered, we had a greater chance of getting picked," she reminded her twin.

Jillian noted the aggressive strokes of her normally gentle sister. "What did you girls write as your fears?" she asked, pulling back a loose bang from Amanda's agitated face.

The twins grew suddenly solemn. Amanda's pencil stopped, and Katie slipped back on headphones. In unison, they answered, "Dolls."

Immediately, Jillian reached for their hands and squeezed tight. "I would have probably written 'dummies' myself," she said gently. The three sisters rarely spoke of what happened six years ago. They could go for several months without thinking of it and lead their healthy, normal lives. Yet when one sister suddenly looked agitated when they passed a toy store, the other two knew what possessed her mind right then.

With the age difference between Jillian and the twins, the three girls had not always been one another's confidantes. Yet one look of distress on her little sisters' pink faces, and a tigress awoke within Jillian. Nothing caused the tigress to bare her teeth more quickly than the memory of what the twins had gone through at the hands of their childhood monster.

Lacing her long fingers with their shorter ones, Jillian lowered her voice below the headless man's organ music. "Mary-Ellen is gone forever. Jimmy O'James said so," she reminded them, reciting the mantra.

"We know," replied Amanda and then looked at her twin. "You wanna tell her?"

Katie nodded, and her blue eyes hardened. "You know how the Horrors pull all those jokes on guests?"

Jillian nodded.

"When we checked in yesterday and went into our rooms," Katie said slowly, "we saw on our beds a whole bunch of dolls."

"Uh-oh." Jillian tightened her hold on their hands. "Did they have frizzy brown hair and red cheeks?"

"None of them looked like Mary-Ellen," answered Amanda, her voice growing soft. "We just shoved them in the closet, but it was a rotten thing for the hotel to do."

"You want Mom and Dad to complain?" asked Jillian.

They shook their heads.

"You want me to complain? I can show them no mercy."

Again, they shook their heads, but both girls smiled slightly.

"You'd make the whole staff cry," said Amanda, "and that'd mean less time for us to go on rides."

Jillian wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "All part of being a big sister."

"Just don't expect her to buy you lunch," Katie said with a mischievous grin.

Jillian gave her ponytail another tug. Then she slapped her own knee, inspiration striking. "Hey, why don't we try a few rides while we wait for the parental units?" she suggested. "I'll text them that we'll meet at a restaurant when they're ready."

Katie grimaced. "I don't know if I can enjoy the rides when I'm this hungry."

Jillian tapped her chin, remembering. "Hey, you know what we can do? We can try a few sweet shops and venders, and we ask if they offer free samples," she said. "Harrison and I did that at Busch Gardens where we could. It might not fill us up, but it'll tide us over until we can get a real meal."

"I second that motion," Amanda said eagerly, flipping her sketchbook closed.

"Let's go!" beamed Katie, getting to her feet and tucking her MP3 player in her bag.

"Can we go back to our room first?" Amanda suddenly asked, grabbing her purse which looked like a denim backpack. "I didn't want to mention it before, but I think I left my pencil sharpener on the desk. If we get into long lines, I want to sketch more Horrors."

Jillian texted her parents their plan. Just in case they couldn't check their phones, she left a message with the receptionist at the front desk if they asked for their daughters. Then the girls headed toward the poorly illuminated elevator, linking elbows playfully like Monkeys in a Barrel.

The twins looked like slightly smaller versions of Jillian. All three were lean and tall for their respective ages. Each had black hair, pink skin, elongated faces, and round eyes, although the twins had their father's blue irises while Jillian favored one grandmother's green. However, the chief differences were expressed through their individual styles. Amanda the artist liked colors and often looked like a walking Lisa Frank commercial. Flowery hairpins held back her short strands. She wore a purple T-shirt with pink dolphins, and a hot pink skirt jostled over purple leggings. More active Katie preferred a orange tanktop which showed off the muscles she had developed in tennis and softball, and her white shorts allowed for easy mobility. Mature Jillian, now a legal adult and looking toward starting college in the fall, dressed conservatively in a denim vest over a white T-shirt. Due to her stature of 5'8", she had the most trouble finding clothes which fit her, and she had had to pull out the stitching on the hems of her blue jeans.

The sisters had sauntered up to a few feet from the elevator when a door opened, and a Horror dressed in a gray boilersuit wheeled out a janitorial cart. He nodded at the sisters, retrieving a mop. "Just one moment, ladies." He spun and marched toward a large red puddle, which had been hard to see in the hallway's atmospheric dim light.

Jillian, who had mopped floors in the retail stores and fast-food restaurants she had worked in, held the girls back, waiting respectfully.

"I hope somebody has free samples of soup," decided Amanda. "Hot food fills me up quicker."

"I'd take anything at this point," said her twin, "even frog legs."

The Horror janitor turned his head. "You ladies starving?"

"That's putting it lightly!" Katie replied.

He leaned against the mop, adjusting his cap thoughtfully around his yellow horns. His name tag reflected a feeble beam of light, drawing the eye to the fact that his name was Byron. He glanced about, as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping behind one of the doors, and leaned forward. "I can help you with that," he said companionably. "I might be able to get you girls a snack from the kitchen."

Jillian fiddled with her purse. "We don't have a lot of cash - "

"No sweat," replied Byron. "We got a free thing you might like, if you're not picky."

"We're not," said Amanda.

"Good," the Horror answered. "You three are all too skinny. You wouldn't even make a proper stew."

"What's the free thing?" Katie asked, jumping to the point. Her stomach gave an audible groan.

"I can't give you girls the expensive stuff, you know, but nobody would care if I give some hungry kids a few PBJs. The jar in the kitchen is almost empty, and it'd get thrown out anyway. Is that okay?"

"I'll eat anything right about now!" declared Katie, and Amanda nodded vehemently.

"Won't you get in trouble?" asked Jillian.

Byron waved a large paw. "Nah, the hotel budget allows for 'acts of customer service.' You know, free drinks for seniors, candy bars for Very Special Guests, a trip to the torture chamber for the folks who give us a bad review."

The sisters laughed, and Byron grinned at Jillian. "And something for the eldest gal too," the Horror said decidedly.

"Oh, I couldn't - " Jillian started to say, but her stomach chose then to growl in protest. "I'll just take a fold-over," she amended, not wanting to eat too much before an afternoon of walking around the park.

"Stay right here, and I'll be back in two shakes of a werewolf's tail." He left his custodial cart and hurried through a door marked HORRORS ONLY.

Katie beamed, turning to the other two. "That's lucky!"

Amanda furrowed her brow. "I dunno. Dad always said there's no such thing as a free lunch, and Jillian's right. What if the janitor gets in trouble?"

"Employees get discounts," replied Jillian, ready to embrace the flip side of the coin. "That summer I worked at Taco Bell, I could get up to seven dollars worth of free food when I was working and fifty percent off on days I didn't. I used to buy the cheaper items and give it to this homeless guy down the street."

"Do we look homeless?" joked Katie.

"Some people are kinder when hungry children are involved," reasoned Jillian. "And my manager at Taco Bell sometimes gave his favorite regulars special treats to keep them coming back."

Amanda bit her lip. "Well, we could offer to pay something, right? A free drink isn't the same as free sandwiches."

Jillian patted her shoulder. "Right, Mandy."

Soon, Byron returned with a tray with three plates. He passed the twins their sandwiches first, grinned at their enthusiastic acceptance, and then held up Jillian's plate. "And the fold-over for the big sister. Go on! It's tasty."

Jillian thanked him and tried not to scarf it down at the sonic speed her sisters were gobbling. After she swallowed her first bite, she asked, "Are you sure we can't pay you something for it? We don't want you to get in trouble."

Byron smiled serenely. "Well, if you want to start a tab, you can have the sandwiches now and pay before you check out of the hotel." He pulled out a tiny notepad from his pocket, like the kind waitresses used, and scribbled on it. "Just put your signature on here to authenticate it, and I'll give it to the person who'll handle your bill."

Jillian glanced at Byron's penmanship (I agree to pay the price for three PBJ sandwiches), and she signed it Jillian S. Zinman. "It's only sandwiches. I don't mind paying."

"Hey," Amanda suddenly said, "you only have jelly in yours." She pointed at the purple in between the fold of Jillian's sandwich.

"Oh, there's peanut butter in there," assured Byron. "I ran out of the regular kind making the twins' food, so I dipped a spoonful of our new novelty peanut butter, which is purple. Nobody will mind if just the tiniest amount is used as we can offer free samples. You can rave about it in the customer survey if you want."

The three girls thanked him, and the Horror left them to dig in.

Katie whooped and charged into Zombie Plaza ahead of her sisters, but Amanda kept a close second. Although they had already seen some of the park after breakfast, they hadn't been able to do a whole lot.

"Wicked!" beamed Katie, turning toward the direction of the rides in the distance.

"Pretty!" Amanda cried, spinning around to look at every architecture detail and park guide in the Horror costumes.

"It's a graveyard smash," replied Jillian, smiling at their enthusiasm.

Katie wanted to run straight to the fastest rides while Amanda begged to go on the spinning teacups again. However, Jillian pulled rank and made the girls wait first after their sandwiches, and so they wandered the shops of Zombie Plaza. They stepped into one gift shop called Tiny Terrors, which looked promising. Stuffed animals resembling werewolves and T-Shirts saying "I Almost Escaped HorrorLand" intermingled with miniature versions of devices that could have belonged in the Tower of London.

"Check out this tiny guillotine!" Katie pointed out, rushing to a display. The instrument in question had enough room in the head space for a finger. "We could use that on Halloween. We could scare trick-or-treaters by chopping up those gummies that look like body parts."

Amanda shuddered. "Ooh, that already creeps me out."

"Oh, I don't know," said Jillian with a smile. "I think it's a head of its time." She and Katie high fived.

The blonde Horror at the counter smiled at them as they milled through her shop. She reached behind the display and started pulling out little figurines and plush dolls that looked like children screaming in mortal terror. "Would you like to look at our commemorative HorrorLand dolls?" she asked encouragingly.

Katie glanced at the collection and promptly took a large step back. "No, thanks," she said with a strained smile.

"We'd rather look at the torture equipment," Amanda added hurriedly, taking Katie's arm and retreating to a glass case with nasty-looking instruments.

The Horror chortled, peering at Jillian. "Funny pair, ain't they?"

Jillian regarded her coolly. "Whatever do you mean?" Yet she had to lasso the bristling tigress and remind herself that the employee had no way of knowing what dolls meant to the twins. She turned away before she said something she couldn't take back, and she moved to the window, gazing out at the park guests and Horrors milling in the afternoon sun.

In one corner of the glass, the reflections of the twins moved about the shop, trying not to look at the front counter. Jillian eyed them and the Horror with hawk-like scrutiny. Fortunately, the saleswoman started packing the toys away. One after another went into the box. As Jillian watched her sisters inspecting an Iron Maiden, a sudden movement from the counter caught her attention. One toy seemed to sit up as if by itself. It turned its head toward Jillian.

Jillian's purse dropped to the floor, but she barely noticed. She stared at the all-too-familiar wooden face with baleful blue eyes and a smirking red mouth above a sliding marionette jaw.

The dummy returned her gaze. Then he winked and waved, mockingly.

Her paralysis released her. Jillian jolted and spun around.

The remaining HorrorLand dolls sat contently on the counter, but none of them resembled a ventriloquist's dummy - or even THAT ventriloquist's dummy.

The lady Horror stopped in middle of rearranging the dolls and rose an eyebrow ridge at her. "You okay, sugar?"

"Fine!" said Jillian too quickly. "Just fine."

She collected the twins and led them to the next shop, trying not to betray anything that would worry them. Her heart thundered as if someone had given her an I.V. of a coffee and Red Bull cocktail. Her legs felt weak, but she forced herself to walk normally. She sucked in a discreet breath as the twins cooed over plush bats with felt fangs.

Did I really see something? Jillian went back over the memory. The window hadn't been a proper mirror, and the reflection had been fairly dark. Her attention had mostly been on her sisters rather than the park employee packing up the dolls -

Jillian suddenly laughed out loud in relief. The twins paused in examining the toy bats and looked at her, curious. She grinned and held up a stuffed vampire bat of her own.

No bones about it. If Slappy really were in HorrorLand, he would never risk moving in front of people. A wink, maybe. A twitch. But to sit up and wave when the cashier stood six inches away from him? He would never be so stupid. Now that she thought of it, the Horror could have noticed Jillian watching her in the reflection and made a doll move just to mess with her. A little sleight of hand, and she removed the large doll when Jillian whirled around in panic.

Don't be paranoid, she told herself. HorrorLand knows the twins are afraid of dolls, and the management probably wants to see if you're the same. Don't react, and they won't pull another stunt.

At the edge of Zombie Plaza, near the path leading to Black Lagoon Water Park, a bulky Horror with green fur and short horns stood to the side of the crowd. He had a small folding stand which he used to hold his water bottle and other items. "Guess your height within one inch!" called the green Horror. "If I lose, you get a prize!"

The twins changed direction, and Jillian followed.

"Hope it's something cool," said Amanda.

"Hope it's something edible," said Katie, who had worked up an appetite again from walking.

A group of guys around Jillian's age had stopped in front of the green Horror, ahead of the girls. The park worker (whose name tag read "Max") glided his yellow eyes over the four young men and pointed to each of them. "Six-two, six-six, six-four, five-eleven."

"Sick skills!" one who was 6'6" cried, and the others agreed.

"Can we still get free stuff?" Mr. 5'11" asked with an innocent smirk.

Max jerked a taloned thumb over his shoulder, signaling for them to move on.

Katie rushed forward with Amanda behind her. "Do us! Do us!" Katie begged.

"If you don't mind," Amanda said politely.

The Horror lowered his head to gaze at them. He blinked once and said, "Five foot, two inches."

"Correct," both girls said in unison, half impressed, half disappointed.

Jillian stepped forward, waving amiably. "Do me next, please, Mr. Max."

The green Horror squinted at her, tapping his hairy chin. Where it had taken him hardly a moment to guess the others, now he seemed to be calculating her carefully. At last he said, "Five foot, six inches."

Jillian grinned. "Nope."

The Horror scoffed. "I'm pretty sure you're five-six, Miss."

"Five-eight," replied Jillian. "I got my driver's license to prove it."

The green Horror inspected her identification with a surgeon's scrutiny and then - rather sullenly - handed Jillian an envelope with a coat of dust, as if it hadn't been touched in a while. "Here you are. Free snack coupons at any food cart." He then spoke softly into his green paw. "Does not include sales tax. Only applicable at precipitating carts. Some restrictions may apply."

Jillian passed the coupons to the girls who naturally grabbed her hands, towing her to the nearest vender.

They bought ice cream cones which resembled severed body parts and, when Jillian allowed them, hunted for rides. Amanda enjoyed her spinning teacups, and Katie screamed the loudest on the A-Nile-Ator. There was also Quicksand Beach and the other roller coasters. Nothing phased the twins, who wanted to see as much as possible and then revisit favorites. Jillian deliberately strolled behind them, forcing the girls to slow down and not spend up their energy all at once.

During one of these occasions, the twins bobbed outside the Play Pen arcade, peeking in while they waited for their sister. Jillian wiggled her legs as she walked by a fountain with slimy green water, starting to feel some tiredness. She happened to glance to her right at a store window, and her reflection stared back at her in the glass. Jillian broke into a laugh at the state of her hair, which had escaped the blue scrunchie in a series of black strings from all the rides. She took a moment to pull the band out and combed the strands with her fingers. For whatever curious reason, the rooms at Stagger Inn hadn't contained a single mirror, but fortunately the sun was bright enough for the store window to act as a proper looking glass.

"On the contrary," she said to her messy reflection, mimicking Pigpen from The Peanuts, "I didn't think I looked that good."

Her experienced fingers began to twist the scrunchie around her fresh ponytail - but her hair slipped from her grip as she froze, staring at the world behind her reflection.

And at the pair of blue eyes on a little dummy watching her from the bowl of the slimy green fountain.

Jillian twisted her head so hard her neck spasmed - but she saw only a set of identical triplet boys trotting between their parents. They seemed to be about kindergarten age, and they screamed and laughed together while their father corralled them behind the mother.

Jillian spun back to the window, but the grinning face had vanished.

"Let's try the Doom Slide next!" Katie called from up ahead.

Jillian started for them, suddenly feeling lightheaded. "Jimmy O'James promised Slappy would be gone forever," she whispered to herself against her dry mouth. She had just mistook one of the rowdy triplets for that three-foot-six-inch nightmare. If she calmed down, then her mind would stop playing tricks, and then -

Can you really mistake a bunch of little kids for a dummy? For THAT dummy? Her insides tensed. She hugged herself. But Jimmy O'James had promised...

Suddenly, her mother's voice broke through over the park noise. "Girls! Jillian! Katie and Amanda!"

Jillian spun, relieved to see her parents strolling toward them, holding hands. Mr. Zinman's Red Sox baseball cap covered his balding head, and he wore the Frankenstein T-shirt his wife had bought him last Halloween. Their mother similarly sported a tank top with several little pumpkins with orange shorts to match, and her neck had started to pink where she hadn't applied sunblock. Both looked like they had enjoyed their morning from the way their fingers interwove.

"It's about time you guys showed up!" cried Katie, jogging over and slinging her muscular arms around her father's waist.

Jillian held up her hand with thumb and pinky extended like a phone, and she tapped the curled fingers. "I sent you guys a text."

Their mother nodded regretfully, tugging on Amanda's short hair as the girl sidled up on her other side. "We're having trouble getting any cell service around here. The Horror at the hotel gave us your message - that was very responsible of you, Jilly. I'm glad you girls had some fun."

"Noodle is a good big sister," Mr. Zinman beamed, giving her a fatherly wink at her childhood nickname.

Jillian made a pretend show of rolling her eyes, although she didn't mind the corny name these days. "How have you been enjoying your anniversary in Halloweentown?"

"Brings back a lotta memories," her father said, pressing his wife's hand. "When we were dating, I used to take your mom to horror films at the local drive-in. I got to put my arms around her during the scary scenes."

"I only pretended to be scared so that we could cuddle," Mrs. Zinman replied with a playful smirk.

"No wonder you didn't mind seeing Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man so many times, Stephy," he bantered back, and the two shared a quick kiss.

Katie immediately put her index finger in her mouth, pretending to gag.

"There are children present," Amanda drawled, folding her arms.

"Wait 'til it happens to you girls," said Mrs. Zinman, unabashed.

Jillian had chuckled at her sisters' immaturity, but at her mother's words, she looked away. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to think on past events. "I think I'll just join a convent and forget marriage altogether," she said, trying to sound undisturbed.

"We're not Catholic," her mother pointed out

Jillian pushed her black hair from her face. "No, but you never know when holy water will come in handy."

Mr. Zinman's grin widened. "If Noodle becomes a nun, would that make her angel-hair pasta?"

The twins and Mrs. Zinman groaned at his joke, and Jillian mustered a courtesy laugh. They then went looking for a park map to see what restaurants were available. As the twins chattered with their father about the rides they tried already, Mrs. Zinman slid next to Jillian.

"Something seems different about you, Jilly Bean," she commented. "Did you part your hair a new way or something?"

Jillian gave a small smile. "Possible. My room doesn't have mirrors." Of course, maybe that was for the best considering what could turn up in a reflection...

Mrs. Zinman squinted at her, pursing her lips. Then she shrugged, linking arms with her daughter. "Oh, well. It'll come to me."

They dined at the Crocodile Cafe for lunch. Ordinarily, Jillian would have enjoyed herself. The animatronics looked like real crocodiles, and the babies swimming with their mothers kind of resembled her pet lizard, Petey (who was spending time with "Uncle Harrison" while the Zinmans were away). Yet Jillian barely touched the Croc Crunch Nachos appetizer she had ordered for herself; every bite tasted like ash, and she jumped high with a yelp when a waitress accidentally brushed past her.

The girls parted from their parents after lunch. The celebrating couple wanted to watch the magic show in the Haunted Theater, but the twins begged to try out the attractions in Black Lagoon Water Park. Jillian didn't feel like sitting in a dark crowded building, so she went with the twins to the hotel to change into swimsuits, then they hit the Bottomless Canoe Ride. The queue there had one of the longest wait times. While the twins chattered about what they wanted to try next, Jillian withdrew her book of short stories and continued where she left off. However, as she read more about Connie and Arnold Friend, an icy chill crept up her neck.

It was a little too close to home.

Connie stood barefoot on the linoleum floor, staring at him. "What do you want?" she whispered.

"I want you," he said.

"What?"

"Seen you that night and thought, that's the one, yes sir. I never needed to look any more."

"But my father's coming back. He's coming to get me. I had to wash my hair first—" She spoke in a dry, rapid voice, hardly raising it for him to hear.

"No, your daddy is not coming and yes, you had to wash your hair and you washed it for me. It's nice and shining and all for me, I thank you, sweetheart," he said, with a mock bow...

Jillian quickly flipped to the next story and stuck her book mark there, squeezing her eyes shut. She took a deep breath.

Amanda turned in surprise. "You okay, Jill?" she asked with concern.

Jillian started to reply, but the ride attendant motioned their group forward. Jillian had only planned to watch rather than get wet, but she climbed into the boat, not about to let her baby sisters out of her sight.

At least you went back to the hotel to leave your phone to charge, she thought as screams of surprise and splashing echoed from ahead. Since cell service was down, there was little point in taking it everywhere.

The twins enjoyed the canoe ride and shrieked with pleasure as they all entered the water. Jillian smiled for their sake, but she stayed close beside them, scanning the crowd as they sloshed toward the exit. She pulled her waterlogged book from her bag and tossed it into the trash without a single regret.

The throng of guests seemed to have quadrupled since lunch, which helped Jillian relax a smidge although she stayed on her guard. Slappy can't make a move while you're in a crowd, she thought. As much as she tried to block the memories, she knew actually how his mind worked. After all, he had lived inside her six years ago.

Even when she talked about that time with her sisters or Harrison (who was the only other person within her inner circle who knew what had happened), she could not fully describe it. What had transpired just to lead up to that fateful moment boggled the mind. At the time, Jillian and Harrison had taken the then six-year-old twins and their doll to a theater to watch a ventriloquist's show. The ventriloquist, Jimmy O'James, had thrown out his dummy, and Harrison had claimed Slappy for himself. Harrison had left it with the Zinmans for Jillian's father to repair, but then horrible things had happened around the house, leading Jillian to believe that Slappy had come to life. Yet the truth behind the scenes turned out to be weirder.

Jillian and Harrison discovered that Mary-Ellen, the twins' doll, had been alive the whole time. Mary-Ellen had enslaved Katie and Amanda and forced the girls to obey her under threat of punishment. She had been the one gaslighting Jillian into believing Slappy had been tormenting her to make her look crazy in front of her parents - then she had actually brought Slappy to life, intending to marry him.

Unfortunately, Slappy hadn't wanted Mary-Ellen; he had wooden eyes only for Jillian. Mary-Ellen had unintentionally did one last good deed by keeping Slappy from kidnapping Jillian, and in cold jealousy she fought him to her death, seemingly killing the dummy in the process. Yet that hadn't stopped Slappy. His spirit had possessed Jillian, and he had started using her to repair his damaged body, intending to take her away with him when he finished.

Thankfully, Jimmy O'James, who had skipped town to flee from Slappy, had had a change of heart. He came back to the theater where he had performed with Slappy intending to hunt down and finish off the dummy. The twins and Harrison happened to see him, and the kids led him to rescue Jillian. Jimmy returned Slappy to his body and put him to sleep, promising to get rid of him forever.

Best laid plans, Jillian thought with a shudder, wringing out her long hair.

She usually tried to block out that time when Slappy had been inside her: how his anger and malice felt, how he made her be mean to her sisters and Harrison, how vicious her eyes looked when she passed mirrors. Yet as Jillian followed the twins through HorrorLand, she found a grim comfort in knowing how his mind worked. Most of Slappy's plans sprung from two motivations: self-preservation and self-advancement. He played dead so that adults could not gang up and hurt him, but he tried to enslave children so that his will could be carried out when he could not move. If Slappy did try to contact her for real, he wouldn't do it in front of a whole park full of witnesses. He would wait until she was alone, like later that night in her hotel room. If that was the case, she would not make it easy for him.

Many hotel lobbies are open all night so that guests can have round-the-clock service, she thought. I can sit at a table with a cup of coffee where the employees can see me.

That plan gave her a small sense of relief.

"Jillian, they got a 'Crematorium' to dry off!" Katie laughed, pointing as a dripping family of four waddled in their wet clothes into a hut.

The father slipped a few coins into the controls and closed the door. The machines whirled, and the kids and parents cried out in surprise and shock - and then the Crematorium dinged, and the completely dry clan emerged, laughing and smelling a little like burnt hair and clothes.

"Oooh, anybody got some quarters?" grinned Katie, checking her pockets. "How about you, big sister?"

Jillian gripped her soaked purse straps. "We should stay out in the open," she said quietly, glancing around. "Stay where the people are."

"Why?" Amanda asked, ever observant. She moved closer to her older sister, and even Katie grew more serious as she peered into Jillian's face.

A small, emotional part of Jillian regretted telling them right this second instead of giving them a few more hours of unfettered play - but the protective tigress inside her knew they needed to be on their guard. Unlike the horror films that must have inspired this theme park, Jillian resolved not to be like the protagonists who got caught by the serial killer because they abandoned common sense.

"I keep seeing something today," she told them, trying to use tact. "I only saw it twice, but it can't just be the same trick of the light."

"What?" they asked in unison, concerned.

Jillian set her jaw. "A dummy."

Both twins straightened and whirled around, clutching Jillian's wet arms as if they expected her to be snatched up right there. Amanda whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Dead sure," replied Jillian. "That's why we should stay where people can see us. As long as we are in a crowd, Slappy won't do anything."

Katie hung tighter onto Jillian. "Why does he have to be here?" she hissed angrily. "How could he get in?"

"They have shows in the Haunted Theater," Amanda remembered. "Maybe some ventriloquist brought him for a job - like Jimmy O'James did back home - and he escaped."

"Well, I wasn't interested in the Haunted Theater anyway," muttered Jillian. She took their hands. "So, while it's light, let's stay in the crowds. Agreed?"

"Agreed," the twins answered together, both squeezing her fingers.

They attempted to dry off via some impromptu sunbathing on a bench, but their wet clothes grew uncomfortable and chafed a little. They didn't enter shops unless they saw a good amount of customers. In the Werewolf Village they kept close to a group of teenagers who gave them funny looks. They only rode rides that were in the open air. Jillian tried to make it pleasant for her sisters, but unease painted their smiles even at the happiest of times.

As they passed the Doom Slide for the fifth time without joining the queue (who knew what was hiding in those long, dark tubes?), Jillian happened to look at Amanda and noticed something. "Have you girls gotten taller since we got here?"

Katie scoffed. "Not according to the height-guessing guy."

Jillian motioned for the twins to stand next to her. Normally, they came up to her mouth, but now they came up almost to her eye level. "I think you guys sprouted since we started this trip," she observed.

Katie slapped one fist into her other palm. "Then I want a rematch!" she declared. "Those coupons are rightfully ours."

"Double because he did both of us," agreed Amanda.

With the anxiety diminished in their blue eyes somewhat, the twins jogged ahead toward Zombie Plaza with Jillian behind them. Max must have gone on his break though because they couldn't see him anywhere.

"We can wait," Katie declared.

They milled around the plaza again, keeping an eye out for the returning Max. Near a snack cart which advertised "We put the GRAVE in Fried Gravenstein Apple Pies," Katie suddenly pointed to a shop. "Look! Free stuff!"

A female Horror finished hanging up a new sign on a door, and the sisters moved close as the employee went back inside.

Give a dollar for a chance to win a prize

Proceeds go toward the HorrorLand Foundation for Self-made Orphans

"A worthy cause indeed," smiled Jillian.

Amanda bit her lip. "Should we go in?"

Jillian patted her hair. "Worth a look." However, she looked over both shoulders before she followed the girls through the doors.

Inside, a female Horror with grape-colored fur, black hair, and a name tag sporting "Babs" flipped through a magazine behind a counter. Her purple face split into a toothy grin as the girls drew near. "A dollar from each player, and you might leave with a great HorrorLand prize."

Jillian retrieved a damp $5 from her wallet and told her to keep the change, and the furry employee motioned to the wall behind the counter. It had been marked with measurements like on a height chart, and sections had been divided by different colors. On another wall, several prize wheels hung, matching the colors on the height wall.

"First we measure your height to determine which wheel you spin," explained Babs. "Taller sips of water get the adult prizes. The tiny splashes get the kiddie prizes."

"What about midgets?" asked Katie.

The Horror didn't seem to hear her. "Let me get my pen so that we can make it official." She rifled through some messy drawers in the counter, and a live bat flew out of one.

The girls clapped in appreciation of the trick.

"I didn't know you could train them like that," cried Amanda in wonder.

"There goes my lunch," Babs sighed and went back to searching.

"This is the second height thing we encountered today," Jillian commented. "We already met Max earlier."

"Yeah, he's a riot," Babs grinned, pulling out a large novelty pen with the HorrorLand label. "It was his idea to do this kind of fundraiser. It's kinda a 'height theme day,' if you will."

"I'm five-eight, so I'm happy to win some big-girl prizes," Jillian joked. The section on the wall above 5'5" had been colored blue, and the blue wheel had prizes like "Free Dinner" and "Free Service at Stagger Inn."

Babs beamed and motioned for Amanda to stand next to the wall to be measured. Her head flattened against the purple section, and Babs laid her novelty pen atop her head to get an accurate reading. The Horror then announced, "Five foot, two inches. You get the purple wheel."

Amanda spun to look at the wall. "But that's impossible," she insisted, aghast. "I grew taller."

"Is that ruler accurate?" Jillian asked, moving closer - and stopped cold. Her fingers touched the colored wall. Then she flattened her hand against her own head and - slowly - glided it forward. Her hand bumped the wall, right at 5'4".

"Purple wheel for the big sister too," said Babs cheerfully.

Jillian's knees felt weak. She clutched the wall as the world began to spin.

"But that's impossible," Katie squeaked, taking Jillian's elbow.

"It has to be one of the HorrorLand jokes," Amanda cried, but she didn't sound convinced.

Jillian took a deep breath. She wanted to collapse, but she steeled herself for her sisters. "Let's find Mom and Dad," she panted.

The girls held onto her as they rushed for the door.

"What about your prizes?" Babs called after them.

"Keep them!" Katie shouted over her shoulder as they sprinted into the glaring sunlight.

They hurried toward the Haunted Theater. Jillian stumbled, feeling lightheaded. Amanda clutched her, looking close to tears.

"What are we gonna do, Jillian?" she wailed.

Katie propped Jillian up on her other side. "Anything's better than nothing!" she declared. "Maybe Mom and Dad can take Jill to a doctor."

"What doctor can fix this?" Amanda moaned. "Oh, I just hate magic!"

Magic... Jillian shuddered at the word, but she could think of no other explanation for what had occurred. It made her want to scream in frustration, but Jillian couldn't give in, not when her sisters needed to see her in control. She straightened herself and slung her arms around both of their shoulders. "I'll be okay," she said, trying to sound confident. "We survived magic toys. This is a cakewalk compared to Mary-Ellen."

She hugged them both and resumed walking before the twins could offer a counter. However, she could see they both had the same question as she did: could this have been Slappy's work?

But HOW would he make me shrink? she thought. And for what purpose? Just to make me the same height as him? She cringed at the idea.

The entrance of Zombie Plaza appeared in the distance, and Jillian pushed herself forward through the crowd. Yet she felt slower than normal. Was it because of her nerves? The foot traffic? Or because her legs had shrunk?

As Jillian jostled her way toward the hub, sidestepping around people who seemed in no hurry to make room for her, a voice on her left called out: "Five-three! ...Oh, hey! It's you!"

Jillian spun and saw Max, the green Horror who had guessed their heights. He looked larger than he had before, and his yellow eyes grew wide. He stepped closer to her, and the throng made room for the titanic park employee.

He blinked. "Weren't you five-eight earlier?"

"Long story," she replied with a step away, not in the mood to share. Katie and Amanda caught up with her, and she attempted to keep moving.

However, Max put his large, hairy arm in front of the three, cutting off their exit. "Hey, hang on!" he cried, astonished. "I've seen this before."

Jillian stopped in the middle of ducking beneath his elbow. She peered up at him hard. "Have you?"

Max nodded. He looked over both shoulders before he lowered his head. He looked at each sister in turn and said softly, "Do you believe magic exists?"

The three girls glanced at each other. They all nodded.

Max rubbed his head. "Then," he said slowly, "I'm sorry I have to tell you this. You're cursed, missy. A shrinking curse."

Amanda took Jillian's arm protectively. "Can you help her?"

Max shook his head. "I can't, but I know who can." He looked around once more and waved them over to the side of the pathway where decorative hedges had been cut to look like spiders and ghosts. Max stepped behind the hedges and crouched down, and he motioned the girls to move into a huddle around him. Once they were all pressed together, he whispered, "We have a wizard here in HorrorLand. If anyone knows the cure to your problem, it's him."

"A wizard?" Katie repeated skeptically.

Amanda turned to her, still hanging onto Jillian. "We know magic dolls exist," she reminded her. "Why can't wizards exist?"

Jillian nodded grimly. Hadn't Slappy been brought to life by an evil toy maker? After what she had lived through six years ago, she could believe in anything. "Then let's go off to see this wizard."

Max led them into a roped-off area between two attractions and down a gravel path. At the end stood a building with few windows, and a sign warned non-Horrors to stay out. Max ushered them in, and he led them to the stairs. They descended two flights, into the basement, and as they stepped into a dimly lit hall, Amanda suddenly pointed ahead.

"Hey, it's the janitor from the inn," she said. "Byron or Brian."

The Horror stood by a door, but now he wore a uniform similar to the other park guides rather than the gray boilersuit. If Amanda hadn't mentioned it, Jillian wouldn't have recognized him at first glance, but she could see "Byron" on his name tag as they approached.

Byron nodded to Max, giving him a two-talon salute. "What's up?" he asked, casting a quick glimpse at the Zinman trio.

"This little lady - uh, excuse me, Miss," Max said hastily, smothering a chuckle over his poor choice of words. "The one in the blue vest needs to see the wizard about breaking a curse."

Byron nodded, suddenly looking serious. "If anyone can help, it's him." He fished into his pocket and retrieved a large key ring, jingling the brass collection. He beckoned Jillian with a claw, turning to the door behind him. "He knows the cause and solution to your problem."

He opened the door a crack. The twins started for the door, but Byron blocked them with his hairy arm. He shook his head. "Minors wait outside. Those are the wizard's rules."

"No way!" cried Katie.

"We stay with our sister!" Amanda declared.

Jillian patted them both. "It's okay, guys," she assured them, doing her best to hide her nerves. "See you in a few."

Byron swung the door open, revealing a small, empty room with a black door on the other side. "Just wait in here until he's ready to see you."

Jillian nodded. She gave the twins each a reassuring smile and entered, trying to ignore the pounding in her ears. She had time to notice that the black door had measurements beside it for a height chart. However, she promptly forgot this as Byron shut the first door behind her.

Then the lock clicked.

She whirled around, gasping.

Then her sisters started to scream on the other side.

"Leggo! Leggo of me!" Katie bellowed.

"Jillian!" shrieked Amanda. "Don't hurt Jillian!"

Jillian grabbed for the locked door and rattled it. "Katie! Amanda!" she cried, caroming her fists against the barrier. She continued to hammer long after the hallway fell silent.

I'm less than four feet high now, she thought glumly, studying the height chart beside the second door as she circled the room yet again. She had no way to measure time, but it felt like hours since she had been imprisoned.

This must be what Fortunato felt when Montresor buried him alive. She wished she hadn't read those suspenseful short stories; her mind kept conjuring up horrible imagery, both for her own fate and for her loved ones.

Where were her sisters? Had Max and Byron harmed them, or were they locked up somewhere too? What about her parents? Were they okay? Would they come looking for the three girls?

Why was this all happening?

Cre-e-eak!

Jillian bolted round, heart throbbing as the previously locked black door swung open, revealing a hallway.

She expected something horrible to enter and spell her doom - but the hall stayed quiet. Several electric lights tinted green bathed the passageway in an eerie glow. Jillian summoned her courage and crossed to the entrance, peering down the corridor. Another door stood on the opposite end.

As Jillian studied it, the third door slowly creaked as well, opening into the hallway rather than into the room beyond it. A yellow light filled the other room. Nothing stirred there either.

"Like I'm really going down there," Jillian cracked, hanging onto the wall. She waited for something to move, yet everything in her prison remained the same.

She slid against the door frame - and she straightened. Had she shrunk a little just now? She flattened her hand on her head and compared herself to the height chart. Yes, she had diminished yet another inch.

Jillian took a deep breath and held it. She thrust her leg over the threshold and marched down the green corridor. The green mile, she trembled.

The hall would have been long even at her usual height, but her shorter legs coupled with her weakening knees made it feel like an endless hike. Yet at last she reached the other door. She studied it briefly - nothing looked immediately threatening. However, most doors swung into rooms, not the hallways. She shuffled quietly to peek inside the new room.

It was smaller than the last one and had no windows and only one piece of furniture. An armchair had been set up on the right-hand wall, and a person sat there, grinning back at her with painted wooden lips.

Jillian sprang back, her heart throbbing. "Not you!" she cried. She spun for the hallway, but the door slammed shut, knocking her small body into the room.

"The patient at last," Slappy rasped, hands folded over his crossed knees. "The doctor will see you now, Ms. Zinman."

Jillian struggled with the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn. She pounded on the wood desperately. "Let me out!"

"And what are you going to do if it stays locked, Jillian?" the dummy giggled.

Jillian flattened her back against the door. Slappy had made no move toward her. He only gave her that abominable smile - the look of someone who knew he had won Monopoly right before his opponent's last turn.

Jillian scanned the empty room desperately, but the only exit stood right behind her. She was trapped. Trapped with him. She balled her fists, glaring at the dummy. He wouldn't take her without a fight. "You stay away from me, you monster!"

His eyes widened mockingly. "What are you expecting me to do, Jillian?" he asked innocently.

Jillian slunk down a little, like a wildcat ready to strike. "You're gonna do nothing to me, you hear?"

"If that's what you wish," he said evenly, inspecting his wooden fingers. "But that might not be what you really want, Thumbelina."

Jillian's breath quickened, but she forced herself to control it. She needed to keep her wits, and she couldn't afford to faint in this room. "Jimmy O'James exorcised you," she said tightly. "He promised to get rid of you."

Slappy snorted. "Jimmy couldn't count to ten with mittens on. You think he could do anything right?" He tilted his head to the side, and his blue eyes scanned her leisurely. After a moment, he said, "I've missed you."

"Drop dead."

He looked to the ceiling, still grinning. "Here I thought you needed help, darling."

"Like a cold."

"So then you don't have a tiny problem for a wizard to solve?"

Jillian glowered at him. "You're the wizard," she said flatly.

"And proud," he smirked. "Since coming to HorrorLand, I've been able to learn spells greater than what the toy maker left for me in his journal. And you're in luck. I know how to fix you."

Jillian arched her brow. "How do I know you're not responsible for this?"

"Oh, I am very much responsible, darling, and I have the solution. Want to hear it?"

She straightened a little. "Then you did do this to me," she said. "How?"

Slappy nodded, tittering. "Maybe it was something you ate."

Jillian furrowed her brow - what had she eaten that day? She barely touched her nachos at the cafe... and then it clicked. "The peanut butter sandwich."

"The purple peanut butter sandwich. I can't tell you how expensive just a spoonful of that stuff can be. Oh, wait. Yes, I can." He reached into his front pocket and withdrew a tiny white slip of paper. "A sales receipt for three PBJs sandwiches, signed by one Jillian S. Zinman. 'S' is for Stephanie after your mommy, right? I remembered that."

Jillian took a step forward, staring. "Where'd you get that?"

The dummy smirked smugly. "Byron gave your tab to my benefactor, The Menace, and The Menace gave it to me, to extract payment however I see fit."

But how… why… She wildly tried to churn things over, but her mind felt stuck in neutral. Katie won a contest. The vacation was offered to the whole school. Katie had said other kids had won trips to the park. Kids who got free room service while the Zinmans didn't...

Her head snapped up. A slow burn coursed through her, and it quickly became a bonfire. "This has all been a setup?" she demanded. "The whole trip?"

"No such thing as a free lunch, like your daddy says," he said cheerfully.

Her frown deepened. "How did you do this? You play dead when people are around."

"Actually, I didn't do much," the dummy admitted, "but I have friends in low places. They pulled the strings behind the scenes to make your sister win the contest. They had some concern since the vacation fell on your parents' anniversary, but fortunately for us, your parents are fans of horror flicks."

Jillian clenched her teeth.

"Now, now. Don't give me that look," he admonished, waving his finger. "I think it's fitting. You wouldn't be here in this room or on this planet if your parents hadn't gone to those monsters movies together, and you'll be getting to know real monsters later. Once we settle your account." He tapped the receipt. "You did sign that you were going to pay for those sandwiches, didn't you?"

Jillian drew up her chin defiantly. "What if I refuse to pay up?"

Slappy's grin widened wickedly. "Then protons are going to look like galaxies before the week's out. Assuming you don't suffocate." He held up his thumb and forefinger for emphasis, indicating a miniature size. "Hard to breathe when you're smaller than the oxygen atoms themselves."

Jillian's hands flew to her throat, and she shuddered.

"But worry not. Your black knight is here." He spread apart his thin arms. "I know how to stop the shrinking."

Slappy hopped off the armchair and staggered toward her. Jillian flinched. Her limbs screamed to shrink back, but instead she shuffled slowly in a careful retreat. She watched him with gritted teeth, ready to attack if necessary. Slappy stopped half a foot away and leaned against the wall, as casually as if he had been a boy at school catching her at her locker.

"Purple peanut butter only works on animal cells," he said in a sing-song way. "It doesn't affect plant cells or inorganic material."

"And?"

Slappy leaned forward. "If, say, a handsome and clever magician turned you into a wooden dummy, you'd stop shrinking."

Jillian glared and inched further back. "Not in this lifetime."

He made a tutting noise. "Hear me out, Jillian. I haven't told you the best part." He tucked the receipt back into his pocket and folded his arms behind his back. "I've been recruited by The Menace to perform my unique services, you might say. In exchange, he offered me the chance to get revenge on one of my other rebellious slaves, which was tempting on its own, but then he sweetened the pot with an additional promise."

"Me."

Slappy snapped his little fingers. "Got it in one, darling."

Jillian moved another step back. "Drop dead."

"Now, I know what you're thinking, but just because I'm evil, doesn't mean we're gonna live in sin, Ms. Zinman. I'm gonna make an honest puppet out of you first."

"I'd rather shrink."

An eyebrow quirked. He frowned. "Fine, but - counterpoint - if you don't marry me and you shrink for eternity, what happens to the rest of the Zinman clan?"

Her eyes widened. "Don't you dare."

He started to tap his fingers, making a list. "Katie. Amanda. Mommy. Daddy. Your grandmother in Florida. Your cousins in Montana. Oh, and what's your mother's maiden name again? Malcolm? We wouldn't want that side of the family to feel left out, would we?"

Jillian slumped against the wall.

"Now, you're getting it," Slappy leered. "So, what's your choice?" His blue eyes bulged with excitement, unnatural and ever staring.

Jillian hugged herself instinctively. "Why do you even want to get married?" she whispered. "You can just build yourself a doll and bring her to life."

His dark eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Where's the fun in that, darling?" He took another step closer. "You know, 'darling' comes from an old word which means 'favorite minion.' That's what you are to me, Jillian. My favorite. And I will reward my favorite with a lifetime by my side." He shuffled closer.

She didn't retreat again. "Some prize."

"Isn't it though?" he smiled. Now he stood in front of her. He touched the shoulder of her denim vest, stroking the hem, but she pushed away his hand, averting her eyes. He giggled at her resistance. "The Menace promised me a Zinman girl for a bride. If I can't bring you to the altar, perhaps I can convince Katie or Amanda to take your place."

Her head snapped up sharply. She sprang to her full height like a jack-in-a-box and shoved at his chest. "You stay away from them!"

Slappy wobbled, but he kept his balance - and latched onto her tiny wrists. Jillian tried to break free, but he spun her back into the wall, sending her teeth rattling, and he held her there. Jillian thrashed against him. Her shrunken limbs were no match for his supernatural strength, but she refused to give up - not to him.

Slappy chuckled at her vain exertion. "This time, nobody's coming to save you," he rasped. "You alone determine if you can walk away from this - and if your sisters will too."

Jillian finally stilled.

Slappy tapped her hair. "I was inside your mind once, Jillian. I know how you think. I know all the dark thoughts you've ever had, and I know those wishy-washy big-sister feelings you can't ignore when your twins are in trouble." He pressed his face against her ear and whispered, "Wouldn't it be hilarious for two girls who are afraid of dolls to become dolls themselves?"

Jillian lowered her eyes, staring at the buttons of his double-breast jacket. She shook with rage which now needed to be suppressed. "Fine," she said through her teeth. "Fine. I'll marry you, dummy."

"Smart woman." His wooden lips puckered against her skin, and he kissed her cheek. She shuddered, and he kissed her again as if just to show that he could. Then he drew back, triumphant. "Truthfully, I prefer you over your sisters."

Jillian clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. "I'm never going to love you."

Slappy threw back his head and let out a shrill guffaw that shook his thin body. "Jillian Stephanie Zinman, do you think I would go through this much trouble for something like that?" He slapped his stomach, still snorting, before he finally quieted and held out his elbow with mock chivalry. "Well, my darling?"

Within the hour, Slappy transported a green-eyed puppet girl to a place he called Panic Park. Byron and Max carried the dummy and his intended to a white building resembling a church, which had stained glass windows and a sign beside the door that read WHAT A SHAME.

How fitting, Jillian thought, playing glumly with the bridal veil she had been provided with for this moment.

Inside the candlelit chapel, a variety of creatures had assembled in the right-hand pews to act as witnesses: some Horrors, a mummy, a superhero, and what Jillian thought was a snake, but she didn't get a chance to observe for more than a moment. Max and Byron placed her and Slappy before a man dressed completely in black with a large hat which hid his face. The man in black motioned for a pale, shadowy person in summery vacation clothes to come forward.

"Fortunately for you, dummy," the man in black said, "Charlie here used to be a judge and can officiate your marriage."

Shadowy Charlie, if possible, looked more miserable than Jillian felt. Following the first man's instructions, he wound a handfasting cord over the clasped, wooden fingers as he performed the ceremony. Jillian struggled to speak her vows, unused to being without lungs.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Charlie finished and gave a long, morose sigh.

The man in black snickered beside him. "Shall I give the bride a kiss?"

"Touch her, and I'll rip both your faces off," replied Slappy, drawing Jillian close to him. He pecked her wooden lips, and the witnesses applauded.

With the ceremony finished, Slappy led Jillian out a side door and away from the wedding guests. She had no idea where he planned to go, but she gripped his arm and did her best to keep pace with him. Slappy supported her weight as she struggled with her new ligneous legs.

Slappy leaned over and whispered in her ear, "You know, my bride, I'd say you more than paid for those peanut-butter sandwiches."

The puppet girl kept her gaze fixed ahead. "No such thing as a free lunch," rasped Jillian, still gulping for air which she no longer needed.

THE END

A/N:

I imagine Slappy gets his comeuppance off-screen, even in this AU. In The Streets of Panic Park, he discovers that The Menace betrayed him and the other villains. Then by Slappy New Year, he's unconscious in a gift shop. I imagine Jillian managed to help her family escape, and while she continues to live as a doll (this is Goosebumps after all), Slappy's villainy means he's constantly alone.

"...you have to take out a second mortgage just to buy churros at these kinds of theme parks." This is based on a joke that Some Jerk With A Camera did for his review of when the Step-By-Step cast went to Disney World. (He said the churros had installment plans. XD)