Heckling the local theater’s classic horror movie marathon is an annual pastime for you. Every year you mock the rubber masks, grease paint, and B-grade acting in between handfuls of popcorn.
This time, however something feels strange. The ticket-taker leers at you as you enter, and the air in the theater is odd, as if all the warmth had been bled from it. Speakers pop as the first film begins, and the screen looming in front of you seems to grow in size as the lights dim.
An old black-and-white you have never heard off erupts onto the screen and the movie’s fanfare fills the theater, somehow making it even colder. A villain walks on screen, and looks at the camera, looks into the audience, looks right at you.
Fear pins you to your seat as the villain reaches through the screen, his hand larger than life as wraps around you. It drags you out of your seat and into the air, and before you can scream you are in the movie.
The hand dumps you onto the ground. Monsters from horror flicks from your past surround you. One of them drops a pair of dusty boxing gloves by your side. You are confused, until you see a boxing ring bathed in spotlights. The round bell dings, the crowd cheers, and you realize that this marathon is just beginning…