Chapter Text
The evening of October 31st found many lined up and down the block for a movie they could not get into.
Granted, it wasn't the theater's plan to shut down that night, one of the biggest nights of horror. The problem was the roaches skittering out from behind the concessions counter and past Radford's beaten Converse All-Stars as Streber, his coworker, tried desperately to squash them all underfoot.
"Yuck!" Radford exclaimed, trying to ignore the psychosomatic sensation of tiny legs crawling up the back of his neck. "And on the opening night of Box Cutter II, too?" He turned to Streber, who was rubbing his arms - it seemed he'd succumbed to the feeling already, poor guy. He'd been the one to find the infestation in the first place, having dropped a box of chips on the floor when he noticed the roaches in and around it. Hence them running everywhere. "Didn't we have the exterminator here last month?"
"No, remember? Management wasn't there that day, so we had to send them away." Streber sat on the edge of the countertop, flicking a few bugs that had found refuge up there onto the floor. "Jesus Christ, this is so gross. See, this is why I hate working on Halloween."
"That's not even the worst part; there's already people here," Radford groaned, gesturing towards the doors - several people were crowded around the glass, peering straight at them. Some were even knocking. As obnoxious as it was, he couldn't blame them - it'd been a while since the first Box Cutter movie came out, and everyone had been excited for the sequel's release. "What are we gonna do?"
"Uhhh…” Streber glanced down the hallway toward the other exits. "We could let 'em in through the side doors, block off this area so no one comes in. Or do you mean about the bugs?"
Radford stepped gingerly across the patterned carpet before joining Streber on the countertop, cringing as he watched the roaches. He hoped they were only in this part of the building, but he wouldn't be shocked if they were everywhere, what with the spills littering every square inch of the place. "I dunno, about both, maybe?"
Streber pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. "Well, we could always call an exterminator," he said, before thrusting the screen into Radford's face to show him what he'd found.
"Streb, we're not supposed to handle stuff like-" Radford leaned away, letting his eyes adjust to the screen, and sighed when he saw the number Streber pulled up. "Dexter?" he asked, exasperated, squinting behind the phone at his friend. "Do you even think they'd be available? It's pretty late."
"They owe me." Streber shrugged, setting his phone back down and scratching his arms - probably more of those pesky bug feelings. "And anyways, it doesn't sound like you have any other ideas, Rad."
"Yeah, yeah." Radford waved away Streber, who instantly pressed the 'dial' button and hopped off the counter and towards the breakroom. He wasn't sure why Streber needed to leave him alone amongst the roaches, but whatever - for now, he had to work on damage control as much as the idea of it scared him. He waded through the sea of roaches towards the doors, the faces gaining more form the closer he got - wait, was that his brother?
"Hey, Rad!" Robbie's nose was pressed to the glass as he grinned from ear to ear. His friends stood around him, Roy's arms crossed and Ross' hands tucked into his pockets. They were dressed up as the original trio of the Ghostbusters, complete with fake proton packs.
Radford opened the door and slipped through the narrow gap with a nervous smile, wiping beads of sweat from his upper lip. "Rob? What's up?"
Robbie fidgeted in his Stantz costume, pulling at the sleeves. He had grown a few inches since they bought it in the summer, so it didn't fit as well anymore. "Isn't it opening night for Box Cutter II?"
"Yeees?" Radford replied, leaning against the glass doors - not like he could do anything else with everyone crowding around them. "It still is - I hope, anyway - but we're having some issues right now." As he spoke, a roach slipped through the crack in the door and crawled over his shoe. If he hadn't already been used to this, he would've screamed like when he first saw them; now, it was just annoying. He kicked the sidewalk to knock it off before smiling up at his brother again.
"What kinda issues?" Roy huffed as he adjusted the proton pack on his shoulders. "Why can't we just wait inside?"
Ross and Robbie shot him glares, but Radford beat them to it, gesturing vaguely at the roach he'd just kicked off his shoe. Almost in unison, the three teenagers looked down and jumped away, knocking into the people behind them. Radford held back a snicker and crushed it under his heel. "Anyways, it's rated R, so you guys can't see it."
"We can with parental permission," Roy insisted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Radford just shook his head. As cute as Roy thought his antics were, this wasn't a good night for them. "Y'know I could lose my job if I let you guys into an R-rated movie, right?"
Roy threw his hands up in the air and stomped on someone's foot by accident, turning tail and shoving his way through the crowd. Maybe he'd changed his mind on trick-or-treating. Radford caught Ross and Robbie exchanging glances and raised an eyebrow. "Is he gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," Ross sighed, rolling his eyes. "He's just a dick."
Robbie nodded in agreement and pressed the pads of his fingers together. "To tell you the truth, he's the only one who wanted to see the movie. I'm not that excited about it."
"My mom is," Ross piped up, glancing around the throng of horror fans. "I'm sure she and Dad are here somewhere; they closed the shop early to see it."
Radford wished he could be so lucky. "Well, hopefully, everything will be fixed up soon." He ruffled Robbie's hair with a grin, then reopened the door to go back inside. "For now, you guys should run along before all the good houses close up for the night." He waved at the boys, about to slip away when he noticed a figure clad in mustard yellow strolling through where people had separated to let Roy through.
Great, so on top of all of this, Radford was going to have to deal with Dexter? It wasn't that he had actual issues with them, but something about them made his skin crawl.
Then again, maybe his skin was just crawling because he was thinking about roaches.
Dexter straightened their back, seeming to gear up for a practiced greeting - Radford wasn't in the mood for theatrics but decided to wait through it. The roach situation can't get any worse, after all, he thought as they stuck out a shaky hand. "Hello! Dexter the exterminator, at your service. I hear you have a roach problem?"
"Uh…yep!" Radford took a quick look at their orange gloves and decided he did not want to touch those. After all, he was (tentatively) running concessions tonight, and who knew when they were last changed. Instead, he heaved a sigh and beckoned for Dexter to follow him through the double doors, not wanting to be out there for longer than necessary.
The doors shut with a click behind them, and Dexter turned to survey the problem, hands on their hips. Radford cleared his throat and was about to say something when Dexter beat him to it. "Believe it or not, I was getting ready to come here anyway," they said with a snort, watching the bugs as they swarmed the sticky floors.
"Oh? You a big Box Cutter fan?" Radford arched an eyebrow at them. He never took Dexter as a horror enthusiast, but given their profession and how close Streber was to them, it would make sense.
"You could say that." Dexter reached up to grip their backpack straps, tapping one of the buttons with their gloved index. It seemed to be a homemade Box Cutter pin, an image of the titular character - likely ripped from the pages of a magazine - mod-podged onto the metal. "Sequels are usually awful, but you still can't help being excited for them. Even if it's to see how bad they are."
"Guess so." Radford leaned against the wall, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, which were already covered in grease from earlier in his shift. Gross…though at least he wouldn't have to deal with concessions for the next hour or so. "I hope this one's good, though. Not sure how they could mess it up with such a strong start."
"Tch, don't say that." Dexter hoisted the backpack on their shoulders again and stepped further into the building. "So, the problem…it's just in here? Streber said they all came out of a box?"
Nodding, Radford pointed to the box that he doubted any roaches were still in. All of the snacks were spilled on the floor, and a number of them had been opened. The working theory was that one of his coworkers decided they were going to steal snacks and just threw the half-eaten bags back in the box.
Dexter knelt down next to it and turned it upside down, shaking it out - probably to see if there were more roaches, Radford reasoned - then tossed the snack bags back in and shoved it at Radford. "Do me a favor, throw this out."
Radford gripped the flimsy cardboard, raising an eyebrow before taking the box to the dumpsters. He stepped into the dark alleyway, opened the dumpster, and tossed the box, snack bags, and any roaches taking refuge inside them with a thud. He then pushed his sweaty curls out of his face, taking a moment for himself. This was far from the Halloween he wanted to be having. He wanted to joke around with Streber and their other coworkers, maybe smoke some pot in one of their cars before dragging themselves home. And he wanted to mooch off Robbie's Halloween candy when he got there, maybe watch whatever movie he and his friends had turned on. But no dice. He leaned against the door to open it and came back inside, just to find the doors to the lobby were shut.
"W-?"
"Hey, I was looking for you!" came Streber's cheerful voice out of nowhere, and Radford jumped and whipped around to find his coworker leaning out of one of the auditoriums. "Dexter closed the front off so they could work in there. For now, they said we should probably just let people in through the side doors."
"Kinda sucks for people who didn't pre-order their tickets, though."
"Eh, who cares." Streber waved him off and turned towards the doors Radford had just come through, fixing his bunched-up sleeves. “Still, should probably go get them.”
After a moment of stillness, Radford glanced at Streber. "I'm guessing you want me to do it?"
As Streber fluttered his lashes, Radford couldn't help but stifle a snicker and roll his eyes. He made his way back outside to direct the line through the side doors, and only seconds later, horror fans, old and young, stormed the hallways and left both employees in the dust.
With a sigh, Radford opted to wait near the doors in case anyone else walked in while Streber peeled off to sit in the projection booth. The theater was pretty old, so it still had one - for the most part, they just sat up there to ensure there were no technical difficulties (or at least, that was what they told their managers). Radford would've killed to be around when they needed old-timey projection equipment, but the digital age had destroyed that.
As his legs grew tired, he dragged one of the hallway benches over near the door so he could still see outside; all he saw were a few roaches in the glow of the lamplight. He was about to grab a snack from the vending machine buzzing nearby when he heard a noise from one of the empty auditoriums that caused him to drop his change.
He knelt down to pick it up, and his finger grazed - unsurprisingly - another roach. "Jesus Christ!" he swore, snapping upright and stomping down the hallway, slamming open the doors to the lobby. "Hey Dexter, they're in the halls, too…oo?"
Dexter jolted and whipped their head towards the door as something very…wing-like fluttered to the ground. They cleared their throat and dropped the roach squirming in their gloved hands. "Yes?"
Radford really hoped they weren't wasting precious time dissecting the roaches they caught. "What are you doing?"
"I'm identifying them," Dexter replied, "making sure I know exactly what I'm dealing with."
He could hear the way Dexter was smiling behind their mask. Too wide, too eager, and it made the hairs at the nape of Radford's neck stand up - but it was probably nothing. He shook his head and forced a smile back on his face. "Okay, well, just wanted to let you-"
"Yeah, yeah, they're down the halls, I heard you. Let me take care of the root of the problem. Those are just the ones that got away."
The next thing Radford knew, Dexter had shooed him back out and slammed the door behind him. "What a guy," Radford grumbled, returning to his post near the doors. He had no idea why Streber was so buddy-buddy with them, but he wasn't about to argue as long as they were doing their job.
The first showing was almost over when Dexter finally reopened the lobby doors and started setting up roach motels close to the walls, humming the Box Cutter theme to themself. When they were done, they straightened up and pulled off their mask, goggles, and gloves. Their black hair was matted and sweaty, and their bangs stuck to their face.
"I bet it's a relief to take that off," Radford offered, unsure what else to say to them.
"Yeah, it is!" Dexter chuckled, tucking both items in their bag. Radford had no clue how they could carry it around for so long. It had to be killing their back and, at the very least, their shoulders. "So, when's the next showing?"
"You mean of Box Cutter II?"
"Uh, no." Sarcasm dripped from Dexter's voice as they pushed their bangs from their face and pulled a glasses case from the side pocket of their bag. "Yes, Box Cutter II. Streber promised I'd get to see it for free if I took care of the 'situation'."
Radford had been wondering about payment - after all, he had no control of the finances since management was conveniently absent that night. But hadn't Dexter owed Streber in the first place…whatever. Glancing at his watch, Radford realized the movie had to be close to ending; it wasn't super long, only 95 minutes, and without drink and popcorn spills to clean up, he and his coworkers would be able to start seating the next showing pretty quickly. "Probably another half hour," Radford mused. He turned to Dexter, who was still messing with their appearance. "So, no concessions tonight, right?"
"Hey, not my job, not my decision," Dexter rubbed their arms, almost as if to warm themself, and chuckled. "Though I wouldn't advise it with all the chemicals and dead bugs you'll have to clean…not very sanitary."
Well, if they'd plucked off the wings off of all the bugs, Radford could believe that; he might as well start cleaning while they waited for more people to come in. He bid the exterminator an awkward goodbye, then walked to the lobby, taking care not to step in any of the traps. It seemed they were working, though, with a few bugs already climbing inside.
One of his coworkers was already situated at the ticket counter, watching him owlishly as he dragged the vacuum out and started cleaning up the mess. He tried to ignore the little roach bodies crunching under his shoes.
As he cleaned, only a few more people came in for the next showing of Box Cutter II. It seemed almost everyone who wanted to see it came to the first one; it made sense since the town was full of horror geeks, especially on Halloween. Most of the children, his brother included, were out trick-or-treating, while the adults indulged in their own nights of horror.
Streber came out after a little bit, not finding it essential to keep watch over a mostly empty theater, and he and a few other coworkers started to help close. By the time the second showing was over and the audience began to trickle out, the lobby was free of bug carcasses and of any weird chemical odors, and Radford was so ready to go home - but they'd still have to check through each theater, shut everything off, and lock the doors. He usually loved his job, but man, tonight hadn't been kind to him. At least nobody else seemed as stressed out, except for Streber, who'd run off with a mumbled excuse that he needed to use the bathroom, still scratching at his arms.
"Hey, I'm gonna go clean up theater six," Radford called to no one after the rest of the patrons left, heading back down the hallway. Huh, looked like someone already moved the bench away from the door - the door that was in the process of shutting. He didn't pay it much mind though, since some customers liked to exit through the hall doors, and walked into theater six. The credits had long since stopped rolling and the screen was dark, but as he peered around the dim auditorium, he noticed a patron sitting slumped in their seat. Radford rolled his eyes - who the fuck fell asleep during a slasher? Maybe the movie had been bad.
"Hey, wakey-wakey - we're about to close, dude!" he called up to them - but they didn't move an inch. Maybe they were just a heavy sleeper, then? He climbed up the steps, watching his mismatched Converse carefully to ensure he didn't trip. Upon reaching the correct row, he approached the slumbering patron with care. He reached out and gently shook their shoulder to rouse them. "H-"
Before he could get the word out, the body toppled forward, and the dull sound of their skull cracking against the hard floor sent Radford's blood running cold.
His hand still hovered in the air as his throat grew tight. Trembling, he braced himself by grabbing onto the backs of the seats and used his foot to roll the body over…
Suffice it to say, the roaches were the least of his worries as he stared at the grim sight of the gutted body before him.