Fantasti*Con

By Rob Osterman

Fantasti*Con is the Midwest's largest convention of science fiction, fantasy and pop culture, and the highlight of Allison Cavanaugh's summer. Only this year she finds a dark cloud over her weekend of geeky fun: a stalker. What begins as enigmatic notes quickly escalates to threats upon her. Only how do you find a madman at a convention, and how do you still manage to not scare away that new guy in the next apartment while doing it?

The weekend should be about fan-girling out at celebrities, wearing fun costumes, getting the inside scoop on the latest games and introducing her best friend Tori to the world of geek culture. Instead they, along with a hyperactive undergraduate student Joanna, are trying to find out who wants to hurt Allison before it's too late.

Set against the back drop of a major convention, Fanasti*Con is a romantic thriller with scenes and vignettes familiar to any attendee. From the costumes to the celebs, this could be any con-goer's weekend of horror.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rob Osterman
• Release date: Aug 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476244600

Rob Osterman

Mr Osterman lives in South-east Michigan with his wife and partner Jennifer, their son Xander and daughter Kaylee. The modest house is also home to four cats, Marley, Mina, Currie and Serendipity. By day, he is a "mild mannered" high school math teacher, and by night a writer and gamer. In addition to writing FantastiCon, Mr. Osterman also is managing a web novel "Mind the Thorns". It updates every Monday based on reader votes as to what the main character, Regan, should do next. The story follows her birth and adventures as a newly formed vampire, struggling to adapt to her new life, and still rekindle the loves she has let fall by the wayside as a mortal. Readers can find the story at www.MindTheThorns.com

Book preview

Chapter 1

In which we meet our heroine, her neighbor, and two cats. Our heroine receives a surprise.

You will be tested.

Allison turned the paper over in her hands to study it but found nothing else printed on the page. There was no signature, and no other marks. Aside from the envelope there was nothing to even indicate that the message was for her. She looked again at the plain white envelope. It was addressed to her, her apartment number, building address and the rest printed neatly in a generic font onto a mailing label. There was no return address. She lifted the envelope to her face and squinted at the postmark: San Diego, California.

Excuse me, she asked hesitantly. The desk receptionist, a fellow graduate student dressed in a plain university t-shirt and shorts, looked up from his laptop. Did you see who put this in my box? She held up the envelope.

The receptionist took a brief look and shrugged. Probably came in with the mail. He returned his attention to the internet. I really don’t look closely; I just stuff the boxes, you know? Allison rubbed her eyes with her free hand and then ran her fingers back through her red hair, brushing it out of her face. She stared a moment at the back of the receptionist’s head, waiting for him to say something more. With a grunt, she tucked the page back into its envelope, wedging them both back into her stack of bills and junk mail. As she stood another woman approached the counter, contrasting Allison greatly. Her skirt was short, her top low, and despite no make-up she still managed to look striking.

Excuse me, the woman asked leaning her elbows on the counter. The receptionist looked up and then quickly stood, his face anxious to help. Allison rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, starting for the elevators. She cut back through the mostly empty lobby and rode up to her floor alone. It was a week before school started again and the building was as quiet as ever. Students who had lived there for the summer session had moved home, and those returning for the fall semester were yet to move in. So far it seemed to just be her, the receptionist and some girl in a pleated mini.

As she let herself into her room, she began to make a list of things that needed to be done. She still had to pack, feed the cats for the weekend, and leave directions for Professor Miller as to what to do when he came by to refresh the cat bowls. As she tucked her mail into a basket on her counter, a computer tone from her bedroom caught her attention. Stepping over a pile of laundry which had lost its week-long battle with gravity and slid to partly block the doorway, she sat at her computer. The online game she had been playing before her trip to the lobby was still running.

 Your adventure has ended. You are dead.

The white letters filled the black computer monitor with an ominous finality. She had been playing The Realm of Tethys, the popular massively multiplayer online game, as a way to pass the time and clear her head of the horrible way her long weekend vacation was starting.

It started with one of her cats protesting the state of their litter box by using a pile of otherwise clean laundry instead. Then had come an email from her bank reminding her that she was nearly out of cash and would remain so until her first check from the university arrived. She had tried to call the psychology department to check on the status of the stipend she was due to receive but was met voice mail rather than a person.

Emotionally tapped, Allison had been playing in the Realm in the hopes that some time in the online game would lift her spirits before packing. Despite the over eleven million registered players, she had been playing alone. Her three best friends in the game world were all unavailable. Jenizel, whose real name was Joanna, had already left for the convention. Garnil had to log out suddenly when his ex-wife dropped off their daughter six hours early. Serene, whose real name, like Garnil’s, she did not know, had been offline for the last week, presumably preparing for the new school year as well. She had been asked to join with a pick-up-group of two of people she did not normally play with, but she had declined, not knowing if she would get along with them and not wanting to risk it. All of this meant that there was no real need to rush back to the virtual landscape where she had died. There was nothing there but the same monsters that had prompted this bleak display on her monitor. That was when a walk to the lobby seemed in order, a chance to get away from the rapidly growing list of stressors and relax with some time in the real world. That little expedition had led to the final grain of rice: the cryptic note in her mail box.

As she sat, the prompt on the screen finally changed. You have been idle for 10 minutes and will be logged out in 60 seconds, it declared, offering two buttons to choose from, one reading Log out now and one reading Resurrect at home. She sat, her hand moving the pointer on the screen back and forth lazily, her mind still processing the note, the game, and the upcoming weekend, the usual highlight of her summer.

She flinched a little, then, as one of her cats leapt into her lap. He turned once across the top of her legs until he could see the screen himself, his head rocking to and fro as he followed the motion of the pointer. Absently she reached down to scratch him behind his ears. He turned from watching the simple yet captivating motion to look up at her and mew appreciatively. I know, Mal, she said finally. I should call it a day. She settled on a choice and clicked the icon labeled Resurrect at Home. The screen slowly faded up on the image of a medieval apartment, one of the unique features that separated The Realm from other MMO’s. The virtual space was well decorated with trophies and weapons from her in-game accomplishments. Swords, armor pieces, even the head of a troll hung in neat rows over tables of golden cups, crystal balls, and marble statuettes. Mal mewed again and poked his paw into her stomach a few times.

Yeah, yeah, she grumbled. She clicked on the bed in the room and soon the visual of the apartment was gone, replaced with her computer’s desktop. The clock in the bottom corner of the screen declared the time to be nearly four in the afternoon. You’re right, she conceded to the cat. I do need to get packing. She surveyed the humble just off campus apartment her real world self called home. The bed wasn’t made, small piles of laundry—some dirty, some clean—were scattered around the far wall. Two posters, one featuring The Beatles and the other, cast of Star Trek: The Next Generation, stuck on the wall with liberal use of duct tape. Next to the computer monitor hung a corkboard covered in neatly handwritten notes marking off upcoming dates and appointments, though most of them related to goings-on in the Realm. Mal jumped off her lap and made his way around the piles of books and binders to the bedroom door, where he turned once and mewed for her to follow. She frowned.

It is not dinner time, she reminded him, getting up from the computer and making her way over to the closet to fish out her suitcases. As though to prove that Allison was the minority, her other cat, Inara, appeared in the doorway next to Mal to echo his sentiments. Allison ignored them both as she systematically moved one garment after another to her luggage, folding it neatly in its protective plastic bag, each crease carefully smoothed as she checked the folds. Her costumes stowed, she paused her packing to survey the piles of laundry and began to pick through them for clean underwear, pajamas, and a few random t-shirts and shorts. These were tossed into the suitcases wherever they would fit, scrunched and squeezed into corners, or balled up between the carefully wrapped costumes. Those packed, she pulled the top of the suitcase down and zipped it shut. At this sound both cats perked up again.

Yes, she declared, you can get fed now.

With apparent understanding the two felines turned and started down the short hallway to the main room of the apartment, which featured the dwelling’s kitchenette as well as living room, dining room, and foyer, all in a neat ten-by-thirty space. She took out their food and filled the two bowls silently, debating whether to eat her own dinner as well. A sudden knock at her door made her leap with surprise. She crossed the short distance to the door and cracked it open.

A guy, likely a fellow student, stood in the hall. He was looking absently down the hall while waiting, rocking his weight back and forth on his feet. His jeans were a little faded, but no more than was fashionable, and his sweatshirt declared itself the official property of the university athletics department. At first he didn’t notice her but looked up after a moment. I’m sorry to bother, he started in a sincere voice. She didn’t recognize him and held the door open only a crack.

Yes?

He grimaced, and paused before beginning again. Yeah, I know you probably don’t recognize me. I’m Jason. He smiled, an easy smile with but a touch of nerves. I moved in last week, right… his voice trailed off as he looked down the hall, first one direction, then the other before finally turning around and pointing across the way at the door opposite hers. …There, he finished. There was a pause as he stood with his back to her. He chuckled covering his face with his hand momentarily, then turned around again. I’m sorry, he said, rubbing his eyes, I’ve been down to the end of the hall and back looking to see if anyone’s got a menu for a decent pizza place. Seems either no one lives here or everyone’s home for the week.

Allison nodded. She had seen that someone had moved in across the hall but had never managed to introduce herself. Plus the last week had been a bit busy with getting ready for this weekend’s convention, last minute costume sewing, and a few final marathon play sessions in the Realm before classes resumed next week. She took a breath and opened the door wider. I’m sure I have one, she offered politely. C’mon in.

Finished with their food, Mal and Inara had come to see what was keeping their pet from refreshing the water as well as the food dish. Jason stopped in the door way as the two cats came up and stood directly in front of him. They both let out a sound and set their heads to their sides quizzically. The two cats considered the strange human as the strange human hesitated and considered the curious cats. A few seconds passed as Allison rooted around in one of the drawers in the small kitchen area. Finding the one menu for Big Tony’s on the corner she turned around to offer it over and saw the standoff in her doorway.

Guys, she snapped her fingers a few times and the two cats took off toward the back bedroom of the apartment. She shook her head and tried to smile. Sorry about them. She handed the menu over.

Jason watched the cats disappear. I’m more of a dog person, really. He looked down at the menu and scanned it briefly. So, this is the place to call?

Allison quickly nodded. They’re the best in the area, if you ask me, but they don’t deliver. She looked back over at her drawer of carry-out menus. I’ve got some more for ones that do, but Tony’s is just down on the corner, probably only a five or ten minute walk.

He turned the menu over and stepped back into the hallway. Let me duck inside and write down the number then.

Oh, Allison quickly cut in, stepping into her own doorway, one hand on the frame. You can keep it. I’ve got dozens in here. She tried to smile while brushing her auburn waves of hair back out of her face where they had fallen for the third time since Jason had knocked. He smiled back at her, and opened the door to his own apartment across the hall.

Thanks! he said lingering in the door. He looked down at the carpet, and took a breath as though he was going to say something. He did not.

Yes? Allison prompted politely.

Jason leaned out into the hallway a bit, his hands on his own doorframe. Just that it’s good to meet you, Allison. He looked up and flashed her a smile. And then he was gone.

Sighing, Allison retreated into her own place and closed the door, leaning her forehead against it. She smiled as she turned slowly against it, her eyes still closed, and a light grin still crossing her mouth. There was a long silence in the room as she allowed herself a moment to revel in the mental image of her new neighbor. She opened her eyes and took a few steps toward the kitchen, seeing, again, the unfolded letter and nondescript envelope.

You will be tested.

Chapter 2

In which our heroine’s best friend makes her entrance

About an hour later the buzzer on her intercom sounded, making Allison jump with surprise. She crossed to the unit by the door and pressed the response button.

It’s me. Buzz me up, the familiar voice of her friend and sometime roommate Tori sounded through the twenty-year-old speaker. Shrugging, Allison pushed the buzzer and once she was sure Tori was through the lobby door, unlocked the apartment door for her. She stepped back into the kitchen area and resumed washing out Tupperware from the various science projects that had already started or else would start in the next few days. She hated coming home to a collection of fungi and molds more than she hated coming home to an empty refrigerator. A few minutes later the door opened as Tori let herself in, dragging something behind her. She quickly pushed her load aside, closed the door and pressed her eye against the small peephole.

Okay, when did you get him for a neighbor, and I want all the details, was the closest thing she offered to a greeting.

Shaking her head, Allison came around the half-counter to see who Tori was making such a fuss about. Spotting Tori still staring out the viewer, she folded her hands. Oh, that would be the new neighbor, Jason. She paused. But before we get into that, what are you doing here? I thought you were headed up to your parents’ cottage for the weekend with… with…. Allison’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember who it was that Tori had committed this weekend to.

Tori did not look up. Steven canceled, she said, continuing to stare through the viewer. A few more moments passed before she looked up. Okay, he went inside. You can have my attention now. She smiled as she turned around and leaned her back on the door. Who knew it could be so much fun to watch a guy balance two pizzas while trying to figure out how to work a new door lock?

Allison rolled her eyes, and spotted the suitcase that Tori had originally pulled in behind her. She pointed. Why’d you drag that up here?

Tori held up a hand as she shifted sideways and sat down on the arm of the sofa in the small living room. Who is Jason, and when did he move in?

Allison sighed. She had half a mind to argue the point, but knowing Tori it was just easier to get this out of the way now. Otherwise, the entire visit would be about Jason and why Allison refused to talk about him. He said he moved in last week. I just met him today. He was knocking on doors looking for someone who hadn’t gone home for the weekend to give him advice on what pizza to order. She looked up to see a terrified look on Tori’s face.

You met him today?

Allison nodded, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Wearing that?"

She blinked. What?

Tori grumbled something incoherent and got up from the couch, taking Allison by the arm and dragging her around the corner of the living room to stand in front of the mirror hanging in the short hallway. The two looked at each other in the looking glass for a moment and Allison slowly began to realize what Tori had meant even before she started to enumerate the various crimes against fashion.

Sweetie, your hair’s a mess, Tori started, pulling at Allison’s red waves. This t-shirt is from your high school, and has two holes: here and here. Tori pointed at the small patches of skin showing through the material around the appliqué of a crusader on horseback and the name of her old high school. Flannel lounge pants are fine, if you’re in bed, but if you’re out and about, a certain snugness in the rear is expected. You’re not wearing any-make up, Tori continued, and unless I’m wrong you’re not even wearing a bra. I say this with love, Alli: you need one in public. Tori sighed. Haven’t I taught you anything?

Allison rolled her eyes and took a moment to glare at her friend through the mirror. Now that she could see for herself, she had to admit that she had not looked her best to meet a guy who was not only somewhat attractive but living directly across the hall. This fact did not make it any less unpleasant to receive such a critique from her best friend. I don’t look that bad, she finally mumbled in her own defense, one hand trying to push the hair out of her face. She shrugged her shoulders and sulked back into the living space, sitting down on the couch next to Tori’s suitcase. Now do I find out why you dragged this all the way up here?

Tori nodded, pressing her lips together in a meaningful way. Well, she began slowly, I thought I’d offer you some room in it. She continued quickly.

Reviews for Fantasti*Con

[shirezu · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A decent stalker mystery/thriller set around a fictional version of the famous convention, Dragon*Con. Having never been to a convention, only seen pictures and video, I don't know if I was able to really get the setting. It sounded like fun though and I hope to one day get to one.

The main character and her friends were well done. Allison was likeable and realistic and played the stalkee well. Not sure why the author didn't just call the MMORPG World of Warcraft like it was obviously meant to be. Nothing else was changed that way. Plus there is a real-world MMORPG called The Realm (though it's old and no-one really plays it anymore.)

My main issue was with the stalker. It was too obvious. The moment he was introduced at the start it was clear it was him. I really wish it hadn't of been. It needed more of a twist. Maybe even have been a female villain. The links between Jason and Allison were well done though like the tie in with various things said throughout the book.

As another reviewer mentioned the book needs a going over by a good editor. Numerous grammatical mistakes but it only really stopped me a couple times when the sentence threw me out of my flow.

A good first book I'm interested to see what the author comes out with next.