The moonlight shone on the open pumpkin field. The farm was the picture of serenity, until a piercing shout shattered the silence. "Move out!" yelled Alpha. The four MTF agents spread out across the field, their assault rifles and flashlights casting light onto the fully grown pumpkins.
"Why are we even here? You haven't told us what we're looking for, Chief," questioned Beta.
"I… well, I don't rightfully know. But a half dozen people going missing here, and every surrounding pumpkin farm being torn apart during their best season don't seem to add up right," Chief responded. "Just look for something outta the ordinary."
They scavenged the field for hours, looking for anything that could be construed as anomalous. A scarecrow that strongly resembled Delta, an extremely angry coyote, and a pumpkin that looked suspiciously like a basketball (but did not bounce like one) did not apply.
"There ain't shit here, boss." Gamma finally said, after a deep inspection of a vine.
"Fine. Let's turn around and head back to the site. Probably some psycho axe murderer or some shit." Alpha turned around and began to march in the direction of the transport. "Be fitting, given the date and all."
"We might be able to catch the tail end of the Halloween party!" cheered Delta. The rest of the team turned to look at the newest member of their team.
"Fuckin' hell kid, nobody goes to site parties. Directors always find some way to make it about how we don't do enough work. Like to see them get off their asses and do this shit," Beta grumbled.
"I mean, a party is a party, ri- dammit," tossed out Delta, interrupted by his foot stepping on one of the smaller pumpkins. "Wait, what the fuck? Boss, check this out. Pumpkin's like, mutated or something."
Indeed, the pumpkin had shattered from Delta's steel-toed boot, spilling out a mix of various candies and sweets, all carried in a rose-colored sludge. The troops were fascinated.
"Bag up a sample of the Snickers for transport," Alpha ordered, just before a long screech broke across the field. The members were ready in an instant, even Delta, rifles raised and backs against each other. They had been thoroughly trained in high stakes tactics, which is why they didn't hesitate when the first pumpkin leaped out of the ground and rushed at them on its spindly wooden legs. 3 shots later, it was on the ground, dropping a blood-red Twizzlers rope with it.
"Is that it? Only two?" asked Delta, puzzled.
"Good job kid, now you've jinxed us." snarled Gamma.
As if to punctuate his words, another shriek rang out and pumpkins began rising from their vines. A few swayed menacingly, while others wasted no time in charging the squad.
Bullets rang out like rain, each member contributing their own style. Alpha methodically aimed at a lone pumpkin, and burst it, then moved to another target. Beta swept his gun side-to-side, shattering any pumpkinbeast that wandered too close and showering the battlefield with enough candy to give an elephant a sugar rush. Gamma was firing like a madman, with no want for ammunition or accuracy, reveling in the sugarlust. And Delta tried to help, but whether it was the combination of his first real ambush, or the stress, or perhaps his gun jamming, for some reason chose to resort to holding his rifle like a bat and crushing anything that came too close (in one instance, Gamma's leg, resulting in a swift and light kick to the chest.).
The team worked their way through the dozens of small pumpkin monsters, whether by shooting or smashing, until the shots silenced, and they were surrounded by dozens of small, fruit-shaped corpses and enough Milky Ways, Twizzlers, Nerds, Hersheys, SweeTarts, and Pixy Stix to open a store. Not to mention at least enough apples to open a small food cart.
"What… what the fuck?!" yelled Delta, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. The others simply laughed.
"You'll get used to it, kid. Weird shit comes with the job," advised Beta. His diatribe about reading fine-print on contracts was cut off by the ground rumbling. They steadied themselves, as a gigantic version of the pumpkins they had just eviscerated raised itself out of the dirt on spindly legs.
"Fuck."
The team opened fire, but the pumpkin abomination's hide reflected the mass of the bullets. A handful breached its shell, opening boreholes from which copious amounts of candy began to flow. The beast trundled forward, reaching out with one of its legs…
And driving it directly through Gamma's stomach.
Gamma screamed before being lifted up in the air by the 6 meter tall fruit. The pair looked at each other, the squad still releasing a hail of bullets, and for a moment Gamma stopped screaming.
Then he burst into a shower of candy.
"Jesus!" yelled Alpha as he was pelted with the sugary remains of his soldier. The pumpkin used the opportunity to dive forward and seize Beta within its grip, instantaneously exploding him into sweets.
Alpha and Delta backed up as the pumpkin advanced on them, pushing through the various Twizzlers and Three Musketeers that half of the team had become. For a moment, all was lost. Then Alpha tore something from his shoulder. Steeling himself, he charged forward, and leapt directly into the maw of the monster.
The pumpkin, rather pleased with this turn of events, happily swallowed Alpha. For a moment, it stopped its advance as it chewed on the Chief. Then it violently exploded as the grenade Alpha was holding detonated within its stomach.
Delta shielded his eyes as a hailstorm of candy fell upon him, but was still thrown back by the force of the blast. He sat in the field as he was showered with enough glucose to give 682 diabetes, and watched the sun rise over the field, surrounded by what may or may not have been the remains of his colleagues.

Delta walked through the underground security corridor leading to Site-39, the echo of his boots becoming more and more apparent with each step. His wide-eyed face was impassive, as he scanned his keycard and pushed open the door. The Halloween party was dying down at this point, a dozen odd researchers mingling and holding cups of some (non-alcoholic) punch as corny theme music played over the speaker. The wall across from the door was dominated by a large banner with the words "HAPPY HALLOWEEN" along with skeletons and… pumpkins. The rest of the group finally noticed him.
"Hey Jeff, you missed the whole party. We had a candy trade! Where're the rest of the guys?" asked Senior Researcher Smiths.
Delta simply keeled over and hurled.


"This is horrible, absolutely horrible," said Tim Wilson as he examined the reports about the newly found exotic critter. He had not heard much about this so-called Wondertainment before, but he already despised what he was reading. Animals were on this Earth to be treated as our friends, not our toys. "Has anyone checked to see just how bad its health is?"
"No, sir. Walter has not cooperated with our attempts at taking a closer look at him. He is very sick and very afraid," said one of the WWS volunteers standing beside Tim and in front of the ape's provisional cage. Tim looked at the footage of the poor critter, sulking in a fetal position in one corner and rocking back and forth.
"Has he displayed any significant hostility, though?" asked Tim, trying to hold back a terrible wave of pity from messing with his thoughts.
"Not yet. He just slowly walks away from everyone, and sometimes covers his face like he's trying to hide," said the volunteer.
Tim shook his head, this was a lot worse than he expected. "Open the cage and let me in. Remain on standby, I'll tell you if you need to come help me."
"But sir, he's still a gorilla, he could hurt you very badly if you're not careful!"
Tim placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "My boy, that gorilla is a lot more afraid of us than we are of him. I know what it's like to feel alone, I can reach out to him. Have faith and open the cage, please."
Reluctantly, the younger man pressed some buttons on his computer and opened the cage. Tim entered the habitat, escorted by a few members of the MTF Castaways. Walter immediately picked up on the smell of humans and turned around to face them, a fierce scowl on his face. He tried to bare his rotten fangs, but his weak display only made Tim feel more sorry for the ape.
"Stand back, he'll feel threatened if we approach all at once." Tim walked toward Walter at an even pace without sudden movements or too much eye contact. He laid down a bowl of clean water in front of the ape, and calmly backed away. Walter's scowl only deepened and he knocked away the bowl, spilling water everywhere.
"It's fine everyone, bring me some water bottles so I can refill his bowl." After his assistants did so, Tim sat in front of Walter at a respectable distance. Eventually the ape felt thirsty and went toward the bowl, staring with suspicion at Tim the whole time. Walter had trouble picking up the bowl due to his cymbal hands, and began crying.
Tim raised his hands in a defensive gesture as he got closer to Walter, ever so cautiously. He needed to show he had no intention of hurting this animal, but doing so could go wrong with even the slightest miscalculation in his movements or body language. Tim remembered his lessons from his master, and concentrated on emptying his mind of all evil and impure thoughts. His muscles relaxed, his breathing became steady and his gaze shone with a kindness unseen in common men.
"Hey there, buddy. It's alright, it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you."
Tim was now within arm's reach of Walter, and lifted the water bowl for the ape. The critter remained still and quiet for several moments with a confused look on his face. They met gazes, and there was a long and terrible pause. Walter lowered his guard and accepted the offering.
"There you go, you're safe here," Tim comforted. "We're here to help you. I'm gonna leave for now, OK? Don't be scared." Tim picked up one of the teeth that had fallen from Walter's mouth and placed it into a zip lock bag for the veterinarians to examine. In the following days, Tim would bring water and soft foods for Walter, and the ape eventually allowed his caretaker to put some ointments on his gums and teeth to relieve the pain while a more definitive treatment was devised. After a week, Walter took Tim's hand and walked out of the cage.
"You are very sick, so I'm gonna need you to let my friends help me take care of you, OK?" said Tim as he made gestures toward the entrance to a clinic where volunteers were waiting to examine Walter. Tim believed that even though most animals cannot understand human languages, it was a fact that they could easily detect the emotions behind the words. Walter was no different, and showed great hesitation to go anywhere unknown without Tim. With all the patience in the world, Tim obliged.
The checkup revealed extensive mechanical and surgical modifications to Walter that by all rights should have killed him. Tim breathed in sharply through his teeth as he looked at the X-rays. He was so absorbed in discussing treatments for Walter with the volunteers that none of them noticed when the ape picked up a plastic ball with his feet and threw it at Tim. He was annoyed by that for a moment, but then he heard Walter laughing for the first time.
That was all Tim needed to return the laughter. "See, you're getting better already!" Tim threw the ball back at Walter, and the two of them played for a minute or so before Tim told his new friend that it was time to go the dentist, much to the ape's dismay. Tim unfortunately had other matters to attend to, which left Walter uneasy.
"Don't worry, Walter. You're safe with us," assured Tim as he hugged his friend. When he was done with his various tasks, he returned to Walter's new cage only to find that the ape had stolen crayons from the clinic and drawn a crude but endearing representation of Tim on the wall. The kind man did not have the will to scold Walter for it, and asked the volunteers to let the drawing stay for now.
After that, Tim began to teach Walter sign language so they could communicate. Walter could only do it with his feet, so there were a few hiccups here and there. But the kind man would always reply with positive comments and assure his friend that he was doing great.
Eventually Walter became comfortable enough in his new home that he was allowed to see the other critters there. The mimic centipedes would grow hands to tickle him, Sampson played fetch with him and he was completely awestruck by Caddy. Walter eventually asked to see what Tim's "cage" was, and for a moment the kind man didn't understand. He then laughed and showed Walter his office.
The room was simple and rustic, and every piece of furniture had its origins checked to make sure no fauna or flora had been abused in their creation. Several scientific prizes and credentials could be seen along souvenirs from the globetrotting of his younger years. But by far his most prized possession was a picture that always remained on his desk. In the picture a younger Wilson was beside a serene old lady in India, both surrounded by researchers and animals.
Walter pointed at the picture and asked who that was. Tim was taken aback, his mind flooding with many memories and his heart filling with nostalgia. "Oh, her? Well, Walter. I have many friends nowadays, but it wasn't always like that. I used to be kinda like you, with no one to look after me. People wouldn't care too much about me for the most part, so I had to take care of myself. It was a lonely life, and I started wanting to become a scientist so people would admire me and give me the attention that I wanted so badly. But when that didn't make me happy, I started traveling to find where it all went wrong. That is when I met Mrs. Parvati."
He had to fight back tears, but Walter hugged him and said "It is OK to be sad". Tim hugged him back and let the tears flow. "You see, Walter, I used to be a very arrogant person. I thought that people owed me things because I was smart, but Parvati showed me the truth that was in front of me all along. It's not about me. We're all in this together. You and me, the birds and the trees, everyone. She became like a mother to me. I knew a lot about animals, except how to love them. That I learned from her, among many other things. She is in a better place now."
Tim chuckled. "I know I'm just one man, and one day everything I've done and everyone I've loved will be gone. But you know what? That's a bunch of guano! I am making others happy while I'm here, and that is good enough for me."
That was when Walter did something that Tim never thought the ape would do after being treated like a toy for so long. Walter began playing music for Tim, a song which he recognized as Philip Philips' "Home". Tim smiled from ear to ear and sang along with the melody. The world was filled with demons and trouble for sure. But as long as he was alive and having moments like this, it didn't really matter.


A bright streak illuminated the darkening autumn sky over Boring, Oregon. Though the citizens were no strangers to the weird, a fiery projectile of destruction was definitely not normal to them. A kangaroo causing earthquakes? Sure. A singing and dancing bear? Yeah, of course. A sea serpent constructed of thousands of small fish? Must be Tuesday.
But an astronaut hurling towards the suburbs at Mach 5 speeds? Now that was sure to wind up on the 11 o'clock news.

CRASH!

The space suit landed face-first in the local little league soccer field, effectively turning the area into a mud pit sure to delight the local mud riders and bring endless disappointment to the Boring Bears Soccer League. But this is not a story about mudders and some brats playing soccer. This is a story about a righteous defender of good values and his quest to celebrate Cinco de Mayo among the good people of Earth.

A vaguely human figure rose in the center of the newly created mud field. It took a moment to violently shake off the filth which it had been bathed in, revealing a white space suit with a black visor. Two small streams of flame erupted from its backpack, propelling him above the gunk and moving up and away to survey the area. The upward arc suddenly stopped as a threat was sighted a block away.
"DIE, SCUM! PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES!"
Within a second, an unassuming fire hydrant was cut down with a swift kick in the prime of its life.
"Your first mistake was crossing I, Moon Champion's, path."
High-pressure water erupted from the hole which used to be a johnny pump, bathing Moon Champion and cleansing him of whatever mud remained on him. He basked in the blood of his enemy for a moment, admiring his reflection in the pool forming at his feet. It seemed he had arrived just in the nick of time, as what seemed to be two Earth children were rapidly approaching.
"Halt, children! Tread lightly, as the blood of this sandwich infects the ground surrounding me! There is no need to thank me, but I caution you to advance with haste, for one never knows when the sandwich menace will arise again… It's cold, twisted knobs, and threatening red color… I shudder to think what would happen to you sweet, sweet Earth children should you be attacked."
The youngsters stared in confusion at the figure before them before the taller of the two took hold of the other's hand.
"Come on, Lily. Mom said we shouldn't talk to strangers unless we were trick or treating." The young girl, dressed in a pink tutu and tiara looked up at her un-costumed brother and nodded, following behind him.
Moon Champion looked on, watching the two carefully side-step the ever-growing pool of sandwich blood he had spilled.
"Wait, children! I must inquire upon you…. Where can one engage in the Cinco de Mayo festivities? I wish to partake in the culture of the Earth! Fighting space-villainy gets exhausting and even I, Moon Champion, must take a break!"
"What's synch-o day may-o?" The girl asked, turning to look at the strange funny man behind them. Her elder brother tried dragging her along, but her short legs and curiosity simply couldn't keep up with his pace. Their hands separated and she slipped, dropping her jack o'lantern and spilling its contents onto the ground. Lily's face quickly flushed and her eyes filled with tears as her brother quickly entered damage control mode.
"Uh, don't worry about it! Come on, don't cry. We can get you more candy!" He pleaded, trying to console his sibling and scooping up whatever candy was still salvageable into the orange bucket.
Moon Champion looked on, disgusted at the grizzly scene. Why were these children carrying the disembodied heads of bulls and stuffing them with eggs? Was this common Cinco de Mayo etiquette? It disgusted him, but he had come to participate in festivities, not to judge. Maybe he could both help this ailing Earth citizen and participate at the same time? A moon lightbulb1 switched on in the mighty hero's helmet. He'd had a genius idea.
"You there, Earth-child!" He pointed at the elder boy.
"What? I need to be home soon and my little sister is crying. Go bother someone else."
Moon Champion took a step forward and leaned down, grabbing one of the girl's spilled candy. He took a moment to examine it before smashing the sealed package of M&M's into his visor. Bits and pieces of crushed chocolate goodness and plastic wrappings were littered everywhere. Lily (who had stopped crying at this point, but was still quite sad) and her brother looked up in sheer confusion once again as the lunatic brought a gloved hand to where his chin would presumably be under the visor.
"I have reached the conclusion that your Earth eggs are a prime delicacy and this child is justified in her weeping. To lose these is a tragedy. I, Moon Champion, hereby vow to obtain more eggs for you, child. Tell me, how does one partake in the gathering of eggs in this bull's head?"
The elder sibling watched the strange astronaut pick up the jack o'lantern and examine it, pondering if this too would be met with his visor. Was he asking for advice on how to trick or treat? What kind of weirdo didn't know how to trick or treat? Either way, this might work out for him. He had to be home in twenty minutes with Lily or he wouldn't be able to play video games for a week, but they couldn't go back empty handed… He'd had to trust this guy, as weird as he was.
"Uh… Well, first you need a costume…"
"A disguise?! What tomfoolery! I am too honorable for such activities, I am a sworn Knight of the Moon!"
"Look dude…" Apparently, this costume was a way of life for him. He picked up his sister's tiara off the sidewalk and offered it to the astronaut. "Put it on your head."
Moon Champion accepted the plastic crown but was reluctant to don it. To do so would be an act of high treason on the moon, and he was no treasonist. But then again, he had come to Earth to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, buuuuut… When in Sigmar 5, do as the Sigmarian Fiveites. With a hesitant hand, Moon Champion gently placed the tiara on the top of his visor.
"I feel… Gorgeous."
Lily giggled, wiping a tear from her face.
Her brother rolled his eyes. "Now all you need to do is go to some houses and knock on the door. Make sure you say 'trick or treat' too. And please, hurry up. We already hit this whole neighborhood so they're not gonna give us candy again and I have my friends waiting for me on Fortnite so please hurry…"
He had been given his task; collect eggs for the child. This would be an excellent opportunity to learn about the culture of Earth. Without a moment to hesitate, Moon Champion's jetpack ignited and he quickly charged through the side of the house immediately to his right. Lily giggled merrily as her brother looked on in horror; the shrieks of panic and terror being met with a hearty 'I DEMAND TREATS, LEST YOU BE TRICKED!'

Five minutes and twenty houses with space-suit shaped holes in them later, Moon Champion approached his two loyal friends with a bull's head overflowing with eggs. He handed the young girl the bucket, who stared at it in awe.
"This is mowe candy dan I could ever eat!"
"Consuming raw eggs is ill-advised, Earth-child." The hero removed his tiara, gently placing it atop Lily's head once more.
Sirens became audible in the distance and the elder of the two children became increasingly panicked.
"We should go. Thank you, uh, guy. Bye."
Moon Champion put his hands at his waist, smiling underneath his helmet. Another day, another job well done. Plus he had learned of the traditions of Earth! Who knew that the traditional response to 'Trick or treat' would be 'Get out of my house' or 'I'm calling the police'? Not he! But now he was wiser, and more culturally enriched. He watched the children scurry away before looking up to his home in the sky.
It called to him.
"Moon Champion, away!"
And with that, the lunatic's Cinco de Mayo came to a close as he soared to the moon above.

Footnotes
1. comparable to an Earth Mott's™ Apple Juice 4-Pack

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for the Halloween2018 contest…

"So, what are you doing with your time off?"
Dr. Gifts blearily looked up from his immense pile of paperwork. Somehow, Ellie had a pile half the size, and still looked fresh.
"I didn't have any real plans. I figure I should drop in and see my family. Mom keeps trying to email me."
"Can I come?"
Gifts paused for a second. Ellie had no family. Of course, she had never had a family at all, but he did not at all want to have to talk about that. Not yet. "Of course."
"Great. I've always wanted to meet your folks. Are they anything like you?"
Gifts thought about it for a few seconds. "Not remotely."

Paperwork finished, Doctors Horatio Gifts and Eleanor Gentle signed out of Site-11 early the next morning, and drove Gifts' beat-up old Mitsubishi for seven hours across two state lines, alternating between Gifts' classical and alt rock preferences, and Ellie's devout love for pop and classic rock.
Katy Perry blaring from the stereo speakers, they at last pulled up in a suburban street before an old house. Carved pumpkins and scarecrows dotted the front lawn. Gifts flicked off the music.
"A few things before we go inside. Remember, my cover story is that I work in the national park. You do too, I guess. Also, about my parents. Dad'll be awkward and tell bad jokes, you'll manage. But Mom'll go absolutely gaga over you. I've never brought a lady home. She's going to want details."
"Easy. Just stay as close to the truth as possible."
"For that matter, I've not been home in years. She might get emotional. Also, don't drink the eggnog."
"I'll manage, and I'll remember."
Cover prepped, the two professional agents left the car and walked up to the house. Gifts stepped in front and knocked on the door. There was a pause, the sound of footsteps, and the door opened. A woman was standing there. She paused in surprise for a second, and grabbed Gifts and wrapped her arms tightly around his chest.
"You're home! Why didn't you call?"
"Hi Mom," said Gifts, squirming in the too-tight embrace. "Sort of a spur of the moment thing."
Mrs. Gifts released him, and turned to look at Ellie. Exuberant, red-headed, and graceful, she almost looked out of place next to the rigid and plain Gifts.
"You got a girlfriend!" She wrapped around him again. "Finally!"
"Mom, this is Eleanor. She perfers Ellie, though. She's… uh…not exactly…"
Ellie stepped in. "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Gifts. I work with Horatio."
Mrs. Gifts looked up at her son. "She's not your girlfriend?"
"Uh…."
Ellie had never seen Gifts quite so lost for words. "While there's no strict anti-fraternisation policies in place where we work, we don't get a lot of free time. Officially, we're co-workers."
"And she uses big words! Oh Horatio, she's perfect."

Mr. Gifts also turned out to be quite a bit shorter than his eldest son. He greeted Ellie with a handshake and showed her around the house. Children of all ages filled the house, each costumed differently. A miniature Hulk, a witch, a ghost, a mariachi, a werewolf, a Ghostbuster, and a monk with an arrow on their head were visible, and the sounds of more monstrosities could be heard rumbling around upstairs. A few teenagers lounged around, also costumed, though with much less vigour and enthusiasm.
"I didn't expect the whole crowd," explained Gifts. "Four siblings, plus a pile of nieces and nephews from my brother, plus the cousins and their kids are around as well. We usually just get everyone together at the end of the year."
The tiny witch wandered up and tugged at Ellie's jeans. "You're Ellie. Gramma says you're Uncle 'Ratio's girlfriend."
"Yes, and sort of."
The witch pondered this for a full minute. "Your hair is red."
"Yes, it is."
"You're pretty."
"Thank you. What's your name?"
"Juliet. I'm fwee and a half years old."
The gaggle of children followed Juliet to crowd around Ellie, shouting out their names. Half of them introduced themselves as their costumed alter egos.
"Are you and Uncle Horatio going trick-or-treating with us?" they asked excitely.
Over their heads, Gifts rapidly shook his head. Ellie grinned.
"We'd love to."

"Please, Ellie, no."
"Come on Gifts, it'll be fun."
"I have never had fun trick-or-treating. Mom used to make these costumes, and then I'd go outside to get teased in them. And get crappy candy. I don't even like candy."
"You're a grown adult. No-one is going to tease you for dressing up on Halloween. Besides, your Mom has had this costume around for years specially for you." She brandished the brightly coloured costume.
"No. I've not done this for years, I have actively enjoyed not doing this. Besides, you're not even in costume. That's your regular lab coat."
"Of course I am. I'm a fancy scientist. And it's not my fault you didn't bring your lab coat."
The door was pushed open, and the tiny witch wandered into the room. She looked up at Ellie, now dressed in her spare lab coat, name badge, and fake glasses, and at Gifts, who was refusing to put on the costume before him.
"Uncle 'Ratio, are you not going to go tricka-treatin' with us?"
"Uh… I was not planning to."
Juliet frowned, then sniffled. After a few seconds, she had started bawling, and ran out of the room.
They could hear her distraught voice from down the hall. "Uncle Ratio's not going tricka-treatin'!"
Ellie turned to him and gave him a look. Gifts sighed. It was her 'no arguments' look.
He took the costume and began putting it on.

Two hours later, the excited gaggle of children and an unusually cheerful gaggle of teens came rushing back through the front door, followed by a scientist and a not-remotely muscular Superman (who looked a lot more like Clark Kent). The children excitedly compared their harvests of sucrose and artificial colourings, the teenagers disappeared into the backyard, while the adults gathered around the table for dinner (the assumption being that the children were already full of candy, and that nutrition could wait until tomorrow). Each of the adults was costumed as well; Gifts' requests to go and change back into something that wasn't emblazoned with a big 'S' were rapidly shut down.
Mrs. Gifts was not one to waste time. As soon as everyone was seated before the feast, she peered from under her witches' hat and turned upon her son the precision of an Imperial Inquisitor. "So, how did you two meet?"
Gifts was his usual tacticurn self. "At work."
Ellie elaborated. "I was assigned as his new partner when I started working there a few months ago."
"Which National Park do you work at again?" asked Mr. Gifts.
"South Lake. It's not open to the public. We keep a few rare species in there."
One of the many cousins popped in. "Like what?"
Ellie answered. "Insects. Birds. A really big lizard."
Mrs Gifts was not one to be disuaded. "So Ellie, what prompted you to come and meet us? Things getting serious after your love at first sight?"
Gifts answered sharply. "We got some time off. Ellie wanted to meet my family. Nothing fancy."
"But how about your family? Meeting us more important than seeing them? Considering how little time off you get in government work."
"I… don't have a family." Ellie paused to think. "Not anymore, at least."
Gifts was almost thankful for the awkward silence. Almost.
"Oh." Mrs. Gifts put on her most sympathetic look. Gifts waited patiently for the topic to change.
"Well, once Horatio proposes, we'll be your family."
Gifts nearly choked on his potato.

Several dozen hands of Uno later, Mrs. Gifts declared that it was late, and that it was bedtime. Gifts took Ellie by the hand and started to move quickly for the stairs.
"Slow down there Romeo! Nightcap first!" Mrs. Gifts brandished her homemade eggnog, grinning at what she mistook for a rare display of exuberance from her eldest son.
"But eggnog's for Christmas, Mom."
"And big family gatherings. Besides, you've always loved my eggnog."
Gifts forced himself to smile. To Ellie, it looked painful. "One cup. Only."
"And Ellie must have some too!"
Gifts quickly cut off Ellie's response. "She's lactose intolerant. Can't have it."
"Oh. But I made extra." She smiled. "You'll just have to have her share."
Gifts looked around. His brother had already downed his share, and the cousins were forcing their cups down. As abysmal as Mrs. Gifts' eggnog was, no-one in the family was quite ready to tell her so. He grimaced, forced down the two large cups his mother thrust upon him, bade his family goodnight, and dragged Ellie up to his room.
He set up an old inflatable matress on the floor, leaving the bed for a somewhat bemused Ellie.
"You can share the bed with me. I think we're past that point."
"Trust me. You won't want me to."

Breakfast was a solemn affair. The children were unusally silent, their sugar highs having subsided into stomach pains. The teenagers nursed their cups of coffee, trying in vain to stave off their hangovers. With the sole exception of Ellie, the adults suffered from both. Mrs. Gifts' eggnog was extremely alcoholic, and a weapons grade digestive inhibitor. Both bathrooms had suffered from long lines.
"Your mother's still in bed," explained Mr. Gifts from behind his coffee.
"Figures. She loves her eggnog. Somehow." He glanced at his watch. "We have to get going. It's a long drive back."
"Leaving so soon?"
"Duty calls and all that." He staggered from his chair.
"I'll drive." Ellie bid farewell to each of the people in the room, one at a time, saving Juliet for last. Gifts waved goodbye en masse.
Seated in the car, Gifts turned to Ellie. "Sorry about all of that. They can be a lot to deal with."
"Are you kidding? They're wonderful. I never had all of that big family stuff. It was always just me and Mom. I wish you could have met her."
Gifts hid his expression. "It wasn't to be, I guess."
Ellie flicked on the stereo. The sound of Coldplay filled the car. Gifts smiled in comfort.
"You have to bring me to the next family gathering. I'll even try the eggnog."
Gifts looked over at Ellie's bright expression. She had genuinely enjoyed the experience, as much as he hadn't.
"Deal."


a tale for the Halloween2018 contest

by Kothardarastrix

As night fell over the town, 17th Street came alive. Orange lights flickered on in the mouths of grinning pumpkins. Animatronic zombies and witches moaned and cackled. Red and yellow leaves rustled as the brisk October breeze set them dancing between the feet of trick-or-treaters, who roamed the street in search of candy. In one house, four little girls were getting ready to join them.

"So cute!" Iris exclaimed, snapping pictures of the four younger girls in their adorable Halloween costumes. Sigurrós smiled. Iris had helped her sew the little paper bats onto her droopy black hat, but she'd made the rest of the witch costume by herself.
"We're not cute!" Stella exclaimed, crossing her arms indignantly. "We're supposed to be scary!" Stella had painted her face green, and she was wearing big black sunglasses with tilted lenses that made her look like an alien. Iris knelt down and ruffled Stella's hair.
"And you're the scariest little alien in the whole world." Stella giggled and pulled away.
"Why aren't you dressed up?" Fiona said, scowling from beneath a line of stitches painted on her forehead. She was dressed as some variation of Frankenstein's monster.
"Oh," Iris laughed, "I'm a little too old for all that. Remember, I'm just chaperoning you four."
Sigurrós didn't ever want to get too old for Halloween. Cindy shared that sentiment.
"I never wanna grow up! Halloween is the best!" She jumped happily, the cardboard torso of her robot costume rattling. Iris only smiled.
"…yes, I know." Sigurrós's mommy walked into the foyer, where the girls were waiting. She finished her phone call, then spoke to Iris.
"So you've got my number?"
"Yes, Ms. Stefánsdóttir."
"And her father's?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Now remember, I want them all back home by eight. And don't let them eat all their candy tonight."
"Aw," Fiona whined.
"She's right," Iris said, wagging a finger. "You've gotta take good care of your pearly whites."
Mommy smiled. "Thanks again, Iris. I tried to tell the boss tonight was a bad time, but you know how he can be." Iris nodded
"It's no problem at all, Ms. S. Besides, now I can take pictures of all the cool decorations!"
"That's the spirit." Mommy patted Iris on the shoulder, then knelt down to talk to Sigurrós.
"Do you remember the rules we talked about?"
Sigurrós nodded. "Don't wander off, don't take candy from strangers, and don't eat taffy, because I could choke."
Mommy nodded. "That's right. Now, do you remember the last one?"
Sigurrós thought for a second. "Stay away from Mr. Clef's house."
"That's right. Mr. Clef is a bad, bad man." Then she stood up and turned to Iris.
"And that goes for you, too. That man is dangerous."
"Don't worry, Ms. S. I know." She'd heard the stories, the ones that Sigurrós wasn't old enough to hear yet.
"Can we go now?" Cindy asked impatiently.
Mommy smiled. "Yes, honey, you can go." She kissed Sigurrós on the forehead, then hurried out the door. The kids weren't far behind.

After Mommy drove away, Iris and the herd of 8-year-olds set off down 17th Street. All the people that lived there were very nice, and they gave out lots of candy. The first house they stopped at belonged to Mr. Bright. He came to the door in a monkey mask, carrying big bags of candy corn in both hands. Then they went next door to Mr. Kondraki's house. He greeted them with a "howdy" because he was dressed like a cowboy. After he gave the girls their candy, they stuck around for a while so Iris and Mr. Kondraki could talk about photography. They didn't mind, because they got to play with Crow (an old stray dog that lived nearby) while they waited.
Iris was the best chaperone ever. She stopped at every house to take pictures of the decorations while the girls went to the door. She even helped carry Fiona's candy when her arms got tired. But when the girls came back from Mr. Iceberg's house, Iris was not smiling. She was on the phone with her boyfriend.
"Look, Abe…" She was cut off by Abe's harsh voice, although Sigurrós couldn't understand what he was saying. She'd never met Abe but she'd heard about him, a big high schooler with lots of tattoos. He sounded scary.
"I'm watching the kids! I can't just abandon them for some stupid rave."
Abe's reply was loud and angry. Iris winced. Then, very quietly, she answered. "Fine. But if they get hurt Ms. S is gonna kill me." Abe just laughed. Then he said something else.
"Yeah, I love you too." That was the first time Sigurrós had seen someone frown when they said it. Then she hung up.
"What's wrong?" Sigurrós asked.
Iris sighed. "Abe wants me to come to some party with him. Cade is gonna watch you while I'm gone."
Stella frowned. "But you're our chaperone."
"Yeah, I know. But Abe's my boyfriend, so I…" she trailed off.
Sigurrós didn't ever want a boyfriend, not if they made you as sad as Iris was right now. Sigurrós hugged her to make her feel better, and the other girls piled on too. It made Iris laugh, but her eyes were still sad as they continued down the street to Mr. Gears's house. He had a robot costume like Cindy's, and he gave her his hat (a tinfoil cap with long antennae on top) when she said she liked it.
They stopped in front of Old Man Williams's House because someone had thrown toilet paper all over it and spray-painted "KAOZ" on the front door. Iris took a whole bunch of pictures, laughing the whole time, but her laughter stopped when Abe pulled up next to them in his big black truck. He leaned out the window and hollered at Iris.
"Hey baby! You goin' somewhere?" Iris rolled her eyes and walked over to him. Abe was just as scary as Sigurrós had heard; his head was shaved, and his muscled arms were covered in tattoos of snakes and lizards. She wondered why somebody as nice as Iris would be friends with somebody like that.
When Iris got to the truck, Abe's brother Cade got out of the passenger side and circled around to meet her. Unlike his brother, Cade was thin and scrawny. He was also much nicer than Abe. Although he'd never babysat Sigurrós before, he had come over to visit with Iris a few of the times that she had.
Iris went over the rules with Cade, then got into Abe's truck. She waved at Sigurrós as Abe drove off, and she waved back.
"Uh, hey," Cade said, approaching the kids. He wasn't a natural with kids like Iris; he always seemed kind of nervous around them.
"Hi Cade!" Cindy said. Then she headed off down the street. The other girls followed, Cade trailing after.
They hit up several more houses with Cade. He didn't really say much, other than to tell the girls to slow down if they ran too far ahead. He usually stayed on the sidewalk while the girls went to the door, shifting his weight awkwardly. Sigurrós thought he was probably embarrassed to be out trick-or-treating with a bunch of little kids. He still came to Ms. Rights's door, though, once he saw her costume. Ms. Rights said she was a nurse, but she didn't look like any nurse Sigurrós had ever seen. Cade really liked her costume though, for some reason, and he kept talking to her even after they got their candy.
"Come on, Cade!" Fiona pleaded, tugging at his pants leg. He sighed, then looked around.
"Uh, just go over to Mr. King's house."
"But Iris said…" Stella started, but Sigurrós elbowed her. Cade was slowing them down, and she wasn't too young to have a rebellious streak.
"Okay!" Sigurrós hastily agreed, crossing the street with a delighted Cindy, an impatient Fiona, and a bewildered Stella in tow. Once they reached the other side of 17th Street (and made sure Cade wasn't looking), Sigurrós took a sharp left away from Mr. King's house.
"Sigurrós!" Stella protested.
"I don't wanna go to Mr. King's house," she replied. "He only gives ever gives us apples."
"Yeah," Cindy agreed. "We want candy!"
But that's not what Sigurrós had in mind. She walked right past Old Man Aktus's house and stopped in front of the only one without any decorations. The house with "2317" on its mailbox. The house that belonged to Mr. Clef.
Mr. Clef's house was dark and shuttered. If not for the Buick rusting in the driveway, there'd be no way to tell if he were even home.
"Sigurrós!" Stella called, louder this time. "Your mom said to stay away from Mr. Clef!"
"Yeah!" Fiona agreed, "He's a bad man!"
Sigurrós shook her head. "I don't think he's bad. I bet he's just sad and lonely because no one ever talks to him." Sigurrós had no real grounds for that assumption, but she was usually right about most things. She felt confident that all Mr. Clef needed to stop being so creepy was a friend. That's why she started walking down the cracked sidewalk to his front door. She made it several feet before she noticed that none of the other little girls had followed her. She turned around, hands on her hips.
"Come on!" she huffed.
"No way," Stella said, "We'll get in trouble." She crossed her arms defiantly.
"That house looks scary," Fiona said. The faded red paint on the shutters reminded her a little bit too much of blood.
"Cindy?" Sigurrós asked. Cindy looked nervously at Stella and Fiona on either side, then back to Sigurrós.
"Fiona's right, this place is creepy."
"Fine! I'll go by myself." Sigurrós stuck out her chin and stomped off.
"I'm telling!" Stella yelled after her, but Sigurrós didn't care. As she got closer she did see what Fiona meant, though; the shuttered windows made her feel like something was peeking out between the slats, watching her. But Sigguros wasn't a chicken, and she wasn't about to let Fiona get the best of her.
She almost looked back to her friends just to make sure they were still there, but Sigurrós was very brave and didn't need to. Instead, she walked up the short flight of stairs to the porch and knocked on the wooden door.
There were several seconds of tense silence, during which Sigurrós let herself hope he wasn't home after all, but then she heard a click as a chain was unlatched. It was followed by six more, and finally the click of a deadbolt as Mr. Clef opened the door.
It was dark inside Mr. Clef's house, so dark that Sigurrós wondered how he could have even seen his way to the door in the first place. He wore a big hat, tilted forward so that another grown-up wouldn't have been able to see his face. But Sigurrós was half his height, level with his slightly bulging belly. She peeked up under the hat and saw that Mr. Clef's eyes were mismatched like Fiona's. She smiled as sweetly as she could, but Mr. Clef only frowned.
"What do you want?" he grumbled.
"Trick or treat!" she said, trying to hold the smile.
Clef's eyes glided up to the other three girls, still huddled on the sidewalk, then back down to her. "So, you thought it'd be fun to come bother old Mr. Clef? Did your little friends dare you to do this?"
"N-no!" she stammered. "They're just scared, because of what people say about you."
"And what do people say about me?" Sigurrós swallowed nervously, but kept going. She wasn't a chicken.
"That you're a bad man. That you do bad things to people."
Clef laughed, but it wasn't a warm laugh. It was cold and dead.
"What kind of bad things?" He crouched down to eye level, and she could smell his breath. It was almost overpoweringly minty, but there was something else underneath it. Something very wrong.
"M-Mommy wouldn't say." Sigurrós was suddenly afraid that her mommy had been right, and that Mr. Clef was going to hurt her. But she wasn't going to let Mr. Clef know that. "But I don't believe it!"
"Is that so?" When Mr. Clef smiled, he had too many teeth. Like a shark.
"Uh-huh. I…don't think you're a bad man."
"You don't?"
"N-nope. I think you're just lonely."
Mr. Clef sat there for a second, then laughed. His belly wobbled like the bowl of orange Jello Sigurrós's mommy had put in the fridge that morning. Sigurrós was suddenly worried that she would never see that Jello again.
"So let me get this straight," he said. "You believe everybody's good at heart. That some nice words and a hug are the only difference between me and you."
Sigurrós sort of did, but the way Mr. Clef said it made it sound stupid.
"Yeah, I can see it in your face. Well, here's a lesson for ya."
Sigurrós gasped as something sharp jabbed her in the stomach. It was freezing cold, but the blood now soaking her shirt was all too warm.
"You can change a lot of things, Sigurrós. You're a very special girl. You can give yourself parents, you can put us all in stupid costumes, you can even turn the world into one big Halloween party. But no matter what you do, there's one thing you can never change. There will always be evil in this world." Then he leaned in so close that his long, red nose touched her own. She finally identified the other smell behind the mint: it was the rancid stink of dead bodies.
"And there will always be me."

Then, with the sound of a thousand broken ukelele strings, reality snapped back. 239 was back in her hospital bed, unconscious but unharmed. Dr. Clef tucked the knife back into his pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. For yet another year, he had successfully reversed a VK-Class Reality Restructuring event brought on by 239's coma dreams. He didn't know what idiot first told her about Halloween (probably the same dumbass that inadvertently created Santa Claus), but something about it had stuck with her. Even through her perpetual coma, Sigurrós' childlike dreams of trick-or-treating were dangerous. More dangerous than anyone could know for sure, more than anyone else would ever believe. No one else ever seemed to remember the contortions of reality that Sigurrós forced them through. No, only Dr. Clef was burdened with that knowledge.
"Burdened" was a relative term, of course; Dr. Clef knew a lot of Things Man Was Not Meant To Know. That's why he still managed to whistle the Munsters theme as he made his way out of 239's containment chamber. He'd already missed the party, but he could still watch the sunrise.
Fifteen minutes later, Clef and Kondraki sat together on the roof of Site-17, shooting the pumpkins lined up atop the exterior wall. They didn't talk all that much, usually just when one of them was reloading. As Kondraki finished off the first clip of All Saint's Day, he turned to Alto.
"So what were you up to last night? You missed the party again."
"Oh, you know. The usual."
Kondraki laughed, and it wasn't too long before Clef joined in. The sun shone upon the world, and the god that ruled it was not a cheerful eight-year-old who just wanted to go trick-or-treating.
Not anymore.


by Captain Kirby

Ding dong
Alice, Hailey, Sarah and Erin, waited in front of the house dressed as characters from that new season of Doctor Who. The teenagers all held out pillowcases with pumpkins and ghouls drawn on them in multi-colored Sharpie. The door didn't open. Maybe this is why the group in front of them skipped the house. But the lights were on, and the porch was decorated.
"Maybe they fell asleep?" Alice asked.
"Oh, just wait a little longer," Sarah said, elbowing Alice a little, "No need to turn back so fast."
"I dunno," Hailey said as she looked around for other trick-or-treaters, "it is kinda late." The girls turned to leave just as the door opened. They stopped in their tracks and one-eightied to see a costumeless, middle-age woman with bags under eyes. The girls froze. The woman smiled and reached for a bowl next to the door.
"Trick or treat!" the girls shouted. They pushed back toward the door.
"Don't you all look cute," the woman dropped small bags of gummy bears into each of their bags.
"Thank you!" And they scampered off the woman's porch, continuing down the sidewalk toward the next house.
Alice checked back over her shoulder "Hey, wasn't that Olivia's mom?"
"Olivia?" Hailey asked.
"She went to our school until last year," Sarah explained.
Alice leaned in and hushed her voice, "I think she got expelled."
"Uh…"
The three other girls turned to look at Erin after she finally spoke. She stood with a slouch and hunkered shoulders to make herself as small as possible.
"We probably shouldn't be talking about Olivia behind her back," she said, "We don't really know why she left."
Sarah cocked her head to the side, "Weren't you good friends with her?"
"Yeah, but… we haven't spoken in a long time."
This caused Sarah to stop walking. The rest of the girls stopped too and looked at her. She took out her phone to check the time, which lit up a mischievous smile on her face.
"You want to see her?"
Erin avoided Sarah's gaze, "Uh… what do you mean?"
“Well, she's probably out trick-or-treating like us. I know we went as a pair last year. We can hide under her porch and wait until she gets back… and then give her the jump scare of a lifetime.”
The other three girls looked at each other to see if this plan was considered acceptable. Even Sarah knew it was a dumb plan, but it would require some consensus to determine if it was a bad plan. Erin shook her head, but Alice and Hailey just shrugged. It might've been dumb, but it sounded fun.
“Great,” Sarah declared, “Let's go drop our bags off at my mom's house and then head right back.”

The girls took up their positions underneath the porch at around 10:30. All of the lights in the house were off, except for one on the second story. They could make out the silhouette of one of Olivia's parents, sitting in a rocking chair, reading a book. This only gave Erin pause, but then again she was the only one who kept telling the group "this feels weird" and "this is a bad idea."
"Oh, c'mon," Sarah replied, "It's just a little joke. Besides, both of us want to know what Olivia's been up to this past year."
"I guess but—"
"No buts!" Sarah whisper-shouted. And thus the conversation was over. Alice took out her phone to text her boyfriend while they waited. Erin moved closer to the edge of the porch so she could bolt for it if they got caught. Hailey just turned to Sarah, whose gaze was fixed on the sidewalk so she wouldn't miss when Olivia arrived.
"What was Olivia like?" Hailey asked. Sarah looked over at Erin, who could've given a much more comprehensive answer if she wasn't refusing to make a sound. Sarah rolled her eyes. Coward.
"Olivia was— like she was cool. Like uh… remember that time in August when we convinced Alice's parents we were just going on a walk to 'finally spend some time outside'? And then we just caught a bus into town to see Superbad?"
"I still wish we saw something else," Alice said without looking up from her phone. Sarah didn't respond. She started getting caught up in the story, and forgot to keep herself to a complete whisper.
"Well… one time she one time tried to talk me into hopping on a train and just taking it to the next town. Not, like, buying a ticket, just jumping on a moving freight train!"
"Did you go?" Hailey asked.
"I didn't, I'm not that cool. But I heard she did. Took it all the way to Bensford where her parents were waiting for her."
"Woah."
Erin finally interjected, "You— you shouldn't be spreading rumors like that."
"Oh it's fine! It's not a bad rumor. She's just so cool!"
Creeeaaaaak.
Sarah cupped her hand over her mouth. The rest of the girls quickly retreated further under the porch.
Thud. Thud.
Someone was standing on the porch. The girls collectively froze.
"Rude brats."
Thud. Thud… Creeeaaaaak.
"Ok, maybe we should go back home," Alice whispered. Erin nodded in agreement.
"It's fine. They didn't catch us. First leaving the house earlier during trick-or-treating, and now this? Good things come to those who wait," Sarah replied. She tapped her temple to make herself look more wise, but it came off as just silly. It still worked though.
"Fine. We'll stay under here for a little while longer."
And suddenly Erin lost her energy again.
The four girls sat in silence for another thirty minutes. Hailey and Alice passed the time on their phones, while Erin traced the patterns on her costume. Sarah never took her eyes off the road. Somewhere, deep down inside, she knew that Olivia was coming. She didn't know how, or why, but she knew. Like how a child believes in Santa Claus.
Except, unlike Santa, Olivia showed up.
A beat-up, tan sedan pulled in front of the house. A girl wearing black jeans and a grey t-shirt hopped out of the passenger-side, and then leaned in to the car to tell the driver something. When the girl turned around, Sarah almost exploded with giddiness. Olivia looked just like how Sarah remembered.
Hailey and Alice immediately put their phones away to look on with Sarah. They waited for her to give the signal to jump out.
Olivia looked her house over like she was sizing it up before a fight. She took a moment to stretch.
"What's she doing?" Alice asked. Sarah promptly hushed her.
Olivia finished stretching and backed a little ways into the street. She counted down to herself, mouthing the words, "three… two… go". She bolted toward the side of the porch. She jumped just as she passed out of the girls' views. All they heard was the sound of a foot stepping on wood, and then a click, and the quiet sliding noise a window makes as its opened.
"Woah," Sarah said.
"We missed it!" Alice whisper-shouted, elbowing Sarah in the side.
"I'm sorry! I didn't expect her to somehow climb in through her window!"
CRASH.
Hailey, Alice and Sarah froze. Erin curled into a tight ball. The sound came from inside the house. Sarah popped her head out from under the porch. Now all of the lights in the second floor were on, and she could see two angry silhouettes crossing in front of the windows.
"Olivia Rebecca Lee! You come out here right this moment and explain yourself," the mother yelled. Then Olivia shouted something back, but the girls couldn't decipher it. A series of emotional shouts and angry yells and sobbing followed. Erin curled into a tighter ball. Alice, Hailey and Sarah just listened until it died down.
"Wait, no there she's coming!" Sarah pointed back out in front of the house. Olivia was walking toward the front porch again.
"On your signal."
Erin uncurled from her ball. She was confused.
"What?"
"Shhh. Olivia's coming!" Sarah replied.
"But she's already in—"
"SHHH"
It looked like Olivia. It walked like Olivia. Wait, did it? Erin couldn't tell. It was… it was someone. With the name Olivia. Who lived in this house. She was walking toward it slowly. Did she have shoes on? Maybe? Did she have legs? Erin couldn't tell. But she could feel something. She could feel its hatred for the house. The Olivia-thing stepped on the first stair of the porch.
"NOW!"
"No!"
Hailey, Alice and Sarah lunged from underneath the porch. Erin made a break for it away from the house. She ran. And she ran. And she looked back and saw nothing that made sense and kept running until she collapsed in the irrigation ditch five blocks down. She breathed in, and out, and in, and out, and in and— she looked back again. The whole house was— no. It wasn't there. Was it? Erin gained a second wind and ran again.
After ten more minutes, Erin stumbled her way up to Sarah's house. Her hands shook as she took out the house key Sarah gave Erin to hold on to, since Sarah's costume didn't have pockets. It took three tries for her to fit it into the lock and turn the door knob. She made sure to lock the door behind her. Luckily, she didn't wake Sarah's parents as she crawled her way to Sarah's room. She didn't know what she was doing anymore. Should she call the police? Maybe her parents? Erin wanted to go home. She wanted her mom. She fell on the floor of Sarah's room and wept herself to sleep. She had nightmares of empty attics.

When Erin woke up early the next morning, she slowly rubbed her eyes. The sun had just risen, and shot beams of light on Erin's face. She could remember last night, and almost cried again. She trudged her way down stairs to go tell Sarah's mom.
"Oh hey! You finally woke up!" Sarah called from the kitchen table. She sat there with Alice and Hailey, comparing candy hauls from the night before. Erin stood there, shell-shocked.
"We already sorted out your pile, I hope you don't mind," Alice said. Erin shook her head. Did she remember last night? Maybe that was just a dream… like the thing with the attics. In a half-dazed state, she joined her friends at the table.
"Also, how the hell did you get the gummy bears?" Sarah asked, "I don't think any of the houses were giving those out!"
"I uh… I got it from Olivia's house."
The other girls all exchanged confused looks.
"Olivia's house? I thought we skipped her house," Hailey said.
"Yeah," Sarah replied, "No one got candy from that house."
Erin threw out the gummy bears while the other girls weren't looking.


LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE

A Play in Two Acts

by

Gabriel Jade

Cast of Characters

Director Alto Clef: 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　　　Foundation employee; voice, not present on stage.

Professor Kain Pathos Crow:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Foundation employee; a labrador retriever.

Dr. Gears:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Foundation employee; a man in his mid 40s.

Dr. Jeremiah Cimmerian:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　Foundation employee; a man in his early 30s.

Researcher Gabriel Jade:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Foundation employee; a man in his early 30s.

Kevin:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　An inquisitive child.

Brandon:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　A withdrawn child.

Zachary:　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　An energetic child.

Scene
The interior of Director Clef's house, and surrounding neighborhood.

Time
The present.

ACT I

Scene 1

SETTING:

We are in the parlor of the CLEF home, a nice looking house in the residential district of the town of Arcadia. The air is thick with cigar smoke. The only thing present which might give an observer reason to believe that this is anything other than a normal suburban home is the presence of dog smoking a cigar and carrying on conversation.

AT RISE:

CROW, GEARS, CIMMERIAN, and JADE sit on chairs around a poker table, playing cards, with a small wooden bracket set up in front of CROW to hold his cards. Piles of poker chips sit before each of them, as well as in front of an empty seat. CLEF is in the adjacent bathroom. Several bottles of beer sit around the table; it is obvious that the group has been playing cards for several hours. The faint light of dusk can barely be seen through the parlor window. CIMMERIAN and JADE are arguing.

CIMMERIAN
(Nearly yelling)

I don't care what your research team calls it, it's lazy containment procedures is what it is. You're telling me we can't take that damn bag away from it?

(JADE shakes his head in disagreement and takes a long draw on his cigar. He blows smoke towards CIMMERIAN as he answers. Suddenly, the doorbell rings from upstairs. CROW strains his vision towards the stairs.)

JADE

Look, you're free to go try. I'm not going to have anyone on my team go trying to rummage around in that bastard's robes. He thinks that invasions of personal privacy are early symptoms to that damn 'disease'.

(GEARS begins to speak, but is cut off by CROW.)

CROW

You guys heard that, right? I think someone's here. Clef, are you gonna answer that?

(CLEF shouts a string of obscenities at CROW from the bathroom. CIMMERIAN leans in face to face with JADE.)

CIMMERIAN

You're telling me we can't safely outfit a task force in full body suits to restrain it and search it for the damn thing? It's not even that strong, it seems like you aren't even trying!

(The doorbell rings again, twice in rapid succession this time. GEARS attempts to interject into the argument, but is cut off by CLEF.)

CLEF

(off)
Dammit, will somebody get that fucking door!? A guy can't even take a shit in peace around here.

(CROW jumps down from his chair and walks upstairs, leaving the sounds of the argument behind him. As he gets to the top of the stairs, knocking on the door can be heard.)

CROW

Hold on, I'm coming. Jeez, what's so urgent that you've gotta interrupt our game?

(CROW pulls on a length of rope tied to the door handle, opening it. KEVIN and BRANDON are standing outside. KEVIN is dressed as Mario, BRANDON as Luigi. Both are holding block-shaped candy buckets. They look at CROW curiously.)

BRANDON

(to KEVIN)
Whoooa! Look at that, they trained their dog to open the door! So cool!

(KEVIN looks around the otherwise empty room while BRANDON leans down to try to pet CROW. CROW eyes the boy and keeps out of reach.)

KEVIN

Hey! Trick or treat!
(confused, to BRANDON)
I don't get it, I heard someone say something just a second ago.

CROW

What are you doing here at this hour? What do you want? Whose kids are you?
(turning to yell downstairs)
Hey, did any of you jagoffs tell your kids to come here? Jade, are these your kids? Do you even have kids!?

(KEVIN and BRANDON stare in disbelief as CROW speaks.)

KEVIN

(aside, to BRANDON)
Whoooa, dude, did that dog seriously just talk?

BRANDON

(aside, to KEVIN)
It's got to be some kind of gimmick. Remember the other house that had a scarecrow sitting there but it was a guy that jumped at us? Something like that.

JADE

(off, faintly)
What? We don't need any kids in here, tell them we don't want any of whatever they're selling, and get back down here, we're ready to deal!

CROW

Sorry kids, we don't want any of your trikkertreat. Go away.
(aside)
What is that anyways, some kind of German thing?

(Both children exclaim in shock and awe as CROW closes the door on them.)

(BLACKOUT)

(END OF SCENE)

ACT II

Scene 1

SETTING:

In the parlor.

AT RISE:

CIMMERIAN, JADE, and GEARS have a modest pile of poker chips in front of them. The pile of chips in front of CLEF's empty chair has grown to monstrous proportions. CROW has no chips remaining and is curled up, sleeping in a recliner. While the subject has changed, JADE and CIMMERIAN remain at each other's throats.

JADE

…Yeah, right. I'm telling you, man, it's a load of bullshit. No self-respecting God would wear a cowboy hat. Hell, if you ask me, it sounds like some jackwagon messing with your files. When's the last time you had IT verify the integrity of your team's database?

(GEARS starts to weigh in, but is interrupted by the doorbell ringing, startling CROW awake, who begins barking frantically at the unexpected noise.)

CLEF

(off)
I'm not gonna let these burgers burn. One of you guys get the door, and fuck's sake, Crow, shut up! We all heard it too!

(CROW swiftly regains his composure, and starts walking to the stairs.)

CROW

I'm out anyways, I'll get it. Again.
(aside)
Cheating sons of bitches. The burgers better be worth it.

(CROW moves to the front door, using the rope to pull it open. ZACHARY is standing at the door, wearing black robes and a plague doctor mask. CROW is visibly shocked.

ZACHARY

Trick or…

(CROW slams the door shut frantically and runs back to the stairs. ZACHARY's confused "treat?" can be faintly heard through the closed door.)

CROW

Fuck! Guys! Fuck! Containment breach! Clef, open the damn garage, I need my walker!

(As CROW re-enters the parlor, JADE, CIMMERIAN, and GEARS are already trying to pile into a saferoom behind a heavy steel door in the parlor. JADE and CIMMERIAN are visibly panicking. By the sound of it, CLEF is still in the other room, grilling burgers.)

CLEF

(off)
I don't care if it's an XK class event, you lost a bet fair and square, so I'm not letting you have it back until you agree to pilot it in the damn Robotnik costume I got for you!

CROW

Clef, goddamn it, now is not the time for that!

CLEF

(off)
No, Crow, now is exactly the time for it. Wear the suit and yell about chaos emeralds, or your stupid mech can rot in my garage for another decade for all I care.

CROW

Are you seriously going to put all our lives at risk for the sake of a stupid fucking joke!?

(JADE pulls a dusty box containing the red and black dog-shaped spandex suit from the saferoom, along with a large walrus-like costume mustache. GEARS opens his mouth to speak, but is shouted over by CIMMERIAN.)

CIMMERIAN

You know damn well he will, just put it on for god's sake!

CROW

You're all a bunch of bastards, you know that?

(BLACKOUT)

(END OF SCENE)

ACT II

Scene 2

SETTING:

In the garage.

AT RISE:

CROW is dressed in the Dr. Robotnik costume, with the gigantic mustache hastily spirit gummed to the tip of his nose. He sits in the cockpit of the egg walker. GEARS stands in the room, pointing his cellphone camera at CROW.

CROW

That's right! I'm the real Dr. Eggman! Back in the flesh, thanks to you, Shadow!
(aside)
I swear I'm gonna take a dump in your shoes, Alto.
(loudly)
Ok, I did it, can I go save us all from a horrible death now!?

(CLEF is heard cackling uncontrollably from the other room. Gears remains expressionless, recording the scene on his phone. Eventually, CLEF gives the 'OK', and GEARS opens the garage door. Crow's egg walker rushes outside, and begins firing tear gas canisters from its arm wildly.)

CROW

Oh my god! It's worse than I thought! They're EVERYWHERE! They're trying to break into people's houses! OH HELL, THEY'VE SPOTTED ME! Get in the saferoom, you idiots! I'll come get you out when this is all over, if — GOOD GOD, LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT ONE!

(The egg walker begins firing large nets from its other hand. Screams are heard from the street.)

CROW

Call in NTF! Call in Hammer Down! For the love of god, CALL SAMSARA!

(The egg walker produces two more arms, which begin firing taser bolts recklessly. In the distance, police sirens are heard.)

(BLACKOUT)

(CURTAIN DOWN)


◁ Previous
Everything burned.
Operator sped down a breaking emergency chute, the circuitry of its walls bursting into balls of fire. Much of the flames nearly licked the fleshy sphere Operator had for a body. Their head — a ball of cameras and sensors facing every which way — nearly collided with the shrapnel expelled by fragmenting computer terminals. Engines on their back fired and they swerved out of harm's way.
Fire did not surprise Operator. This was an orbital armaments depot, and mechanics failures were natural — but this was not a mechanics failure. It was an attack.
Fragmented machinery tore through the chute, spraying out a torrent of plasma. Operator flew through the exit and into a cavernous metal tunnel. Moments before the plasma could shoot out, the seven mechanical arms wired into Operator's fleshball body heaved a safety barrier in front of the exit. It clunked into place and heated to a dull orange glow.
Where to, where to? The tunnel wasn't leading to anywhere. The front and back tunnel exits lead to featureless walls, and Operator didn't know what sections of the facility were structurally stable. The first missile impacts knocked out much of the depot's nervous system, a network of robotic fibers that ran throughout the station and kept Operator informed on every fault through constant radio transmissions. If something broke, the nerves would be the first to call the alert.
Now the nerves were silent. For all Operator knew the entire depot could shatter in seconds.
Rumbles shook the tunnel. Operator felt their radio detectors twinge. They raised a claw to adjust dials on their head, trying to fine tune whatever they had detected. A few slight turns and the signal came into focus: a sine wave, throbbing against the cybernetics of their brain, matching normal nerve signals perfectly.
The tunnel still worked.
Operator sent signals back. The nanobots comprising the tunnel oscillated like flesh. The whole structure quickly bent, front exit shifting over the wall while curving upwards. When the exit wasn't moving past metal walls, it was a window to other chambers in the depot. Scenes of cyan fires, exploding storage spheres, melting robots, all shooting past. If serpentine organisms existed where Operator had been grown, the tunnel's movement would certainly be likened to one. If they had a concept of analogies, that is.
Several more rumbles rocked the depot. The tunnel stopped moving and Operator reached its final bend. They zipped through the front exit into a spherical command center. Seconds later something slammed through the tunnel. A wall of nanobots coalesced to form a tight seal over the exit, blocking off sights of explosions. The tunnel's nerves went silent.
Running through the middle of the command center was a monolithic pillar: the main monitoring computer. Operator yanked a length of cable from its base and jammed it into a socket on their head. Their surroundings melted away, replaced by the views from every security camera left active. Any camera inside was either engulfed in flames or wreathed in enough static to be useless, but much of the ones on the outside of the depot were working. They switched views.
Black void. Debris plumes. Far off yet not so far a ring-shaped vessel stalked its orbit, the rectangular missile silos on its sides open and empty, green symbols painted on glinting in the light of binary suns. A Twelve Stars interceptor. No other long-ranged weapons seemed to be present, so Operator was in the clear.
They noticed a subtle shift in the interceptor's movement. The monitoring computer ran through sets of calculations as the interceptor began moving closer, closer, closer. Soon it was engulfing the view of the cameras. The computer returned a result that was already obvious. Its orbit and the depot's were intersecting.
A mechanical arm extended from the interceptor, wavering. Blinding white tendrils emerged from holes on the arm then plunged at sharp angles into the depot, accompanied by a shrill scrape that echoed through the command center. Operator pulled the cables out, returning to reality, and saw bright white shapes carving at the center wall.
Something cracked.
The wall exploded outward, slamming a blast of air against Operator that screamed past the newly formed passage into space. Their claws tried to grab the computer but only scratched its surface before being torn away. They were catapulted out the depot, past the interceptor, and into orbit. The vacuum caressed their body. Their skin boiled.
They watched as a final missile dropped from the interceptor and slowly descended into the hole in the command center, appearing to push deeper in before vanishing out of sight. Blue light flashed. An azure fireball rose out of the depot and shredded through it, evaporating every tangled tunnel and container that had been built into it.
Somewhere below, on the desert planet they orbited, was a second explosion. Operator's mind was spinning as their body's gasses expelled into the void. Everything they were grown to defend was falling apart.
Circuits in Operator's brain buzzed. They switched bodies.

"So, do we know anything more about where we're going besides 'something what exploded?'"
"Yup."
"And that is?"
"It was a pretty big 'splosion."
Micha Maina grinned as they floated next to a set of computer terminals in Kessler-002's bridge. Over the third monitor's speakers they could hear Hyeon 3Mun, presently with N.J. Watts in the sleek tin can they had for a landing craft. At least that's what Hyeon first called it when it shuddered after undocking from the Kessler-002.
"How helpful, Micha." Alexandra Maxwell was floating just next to them, sipping out of the straw of a coffee bag — the best substitute for a cup of joe you could have in zero-g. Why xe hadn't just drank a cup back in the Earth-like gravity of the ship's habitation ring was beyond Micha.
"Yeah, what a helping hand." On the first monitor, showing four shots of the landers interior — bursting to the brim with control panels and the three seats wedged in it — Hyeon looked to a camera and rolled his eyes at it.
Micha kept grinning.
Four days ago the Kessler-002 finished its week-long interstellar journey to the Terzan 2 star cluster. It dropped out of faster-than-light travel once it reached a small binary star system, into the tugging gravity well of a gas giant. Te2-2658, the Foundation designated the system. Gateway, the Kessler's crew christened it.
"Okay, won't lie, command up here got no clue what you'll be running into down there."
Aside from an errant X-Ray signal on the first day, there was no sign anyone or anything lived here.
"All we got is what all of us got when we flew into orbit around here."
Until there was a flurry of signals from a dune-swept planet at the far border of the star's habitable zone.
"So…"
Followed by an explosion on its surface.
"…not much we can help with."
The response to Micha was an uncomfortable quiet.
"If anything does come up that we can see from here, we will let you know," Alex added. "I don't suggest holding out hopes on that, though." Xe reached a hand to rub xyr eyes, which faded behind the black, perceptual haze shrouding xyr face before xe pulled it back. Micha couldn't read any emotion there, but the rapping of xyr fingers on the coffee bag made xyr nervousness clear as day.
Micha turned to the second monitor, jutting from the bridge's wall next to the first. On it was a scar. A dark crater, blasted onto the surface of the desert world like a burn mark on paper. The pale blue dunes seemed to divert around it, as if it had to be avoided at all costs.
« Lander Resh-1 is now entering Te2-2658-2's atmosphere. Switching from radio to X-Ray communication. Expect communication interference, » Artificial Intelligence Construct Chione announced over the intercom, speaking with a voice that sounded halfway between "normal human" and "emotionless robot."
They switched the first monitor's view as connections to the lander turned to white noise. From an outside camera's sight the lander was a flaming spec, rushing toward the planet's horizon, rushing toward the unknowns below it.

Operator shot down a melting corridor. Even the deepest portions of the armaments factory they were now in had been torched by Twelve Star's bomb, leaving no chance that there was anything on the surface to salvage. No chance these corridors would remain stable, too. All there was to do was to escape.
Their body was an arrowhead-shaped chassis, designed for quick travel in open skies rather than the tight factory passageways it now flew through. They tore through support pillars and weaved around falling machines as the corridor collapsed into a molten tsunami behind them, falling apart faster and faster. Chunks of ceiling liquified. Operator's brain launched the magma upwards with a psionic push, losing focus on keeping their body levitating. They entered a tumble, glanced off a wall, and rebounded several times against protruding pipes.
Cracks on the pipes widened. Spikes of purple ectoplasm, harvested in the interstellar void and pulverized into a fine fuel, seeped out. Any sapience left in them would've been reduced to incoherence by the refinery process, yet they knew what they lost. They knew who refined them. They screamed.
The spikes flew in pursuit. Every bend, every dodged debris, every section of corridor shredded by magma couldn't shake the spikes off Operator's tail. Part of their chassis's back end morphed into a machine gun, engraved with endless protective glyphs, and wildly slung volleys of compressed thaumic energy down the corridor. Collapsing machines were pulverized into slags by the thaumic bolts. The spikes were intact. Each one either curved away seconds before impact or formed holes in their masses the bolts would pass through.
Another bend in the corridor and Operator entered a massive cylindrical tunnel, leading down into deeper bowels of the factory and straight up. A pinprick of blinding light shone down from the exit up above. The gamble of switching to a body in this factory sector was paying off.
Crunch.
A spike constricted the gun and tore it from the chassis before succumbing to the protective glyphs, ectoplasm liquified then falling. The rest of the spikes flew in from the corridor. Operator jetted upward, chassis elongating into an even thinner and more aerodynamic form, their mind pushing harder while searing pain washed over their thoughts. The spikes followed suit. They spiraled around the chassis, stretched, and recombined into a cocoon that would snap shut around Operator at any moment.
The sound barrier broke and boomed. Operator blasted through the cocoon. The tunnel became a blur. They shot through the exit. Slowing down, they let the pain ebb out of their mind while the blackened wasteland of the surface world came into view. They made it out alive.
Movement in the distance. A silver machine with green symbols nearby and an object far above, burning through the sky. Operator accelerated.

Beep beep beep beep…
"Enjay, you're getting the same readings?"
Hyeon stood by the cliff edge, brushing off the blue dust that endlessly blew in from the sands around, eyes glancing at a monitor on the bulky cuboid detector they held.
N.J. looked to her detector as well. Moderately high EM radiation levels (nothing their spacesuits couldn't handle), high thaumic particle levels, high temperature readings, Humes dancing up and down like the very stability of reality was drunk. The closer to the edge, the lower the Humes went. "Yes."
"Okay, we can't go any further than this."
The cliff wasn't a natural formation. It ringed the crater for countless miles, formed when the blast came and forced up the dunes and underground rocks surrounding whatever the target was. Large enough that N.J. lost all sense of perspective and saw it only as a 2D backdrop.
« Moving ahead will be an unnecessary risk. Stay at your current position and monitor the surroundings. »
It didn't take a detector to spot the danger. Among the charred expanse were outcrops of metal, pillars twisted from unknown original states to forms beyond recognizability, that blinked in and out of existence at random spots. Sometimes the outcrops suddenly reformed into towering machines, alien yet reminiscent of human industrial technology, then tore themselves down in the wake of a non-existent explosion. Sometimes light above the outcrops bent, giving distorted views of the landscape like it was diffracted through water. Sometimes the outcrops became the landscape.
A contained chaos.
"Alex, any progress on decryption?"
« None at all. Chione's got even more processes on it now but still nothing. I'm still guessing it was Ortothan and has to do with the explosion, but I… »
The transmission from Kessler-002 turned to static.
"Alex, I'm picking up interference. Do you still copy?"
Still static.
"Alex?"
« Transmission with Kessler-002 is fully lost. I do not know what the cause of it is. »
One of the few times N.J. was fine with having a copy of an AI downloaded into her neural implants. "Hyeon, are you getting interference?"
"A hell of a lot of it. This can't be good."
Off in the distance two silver dots winded over the crater's surface. The one in the back fired bolts of bright energy that missed the one in the front and hit the ground. The one under attack sped up, lifting away from the ground and narrowly missing a suddenly appearing outcrop. They were moving closer.
"Hyeon, we have to go."
"No shit!" He was already running to the rover they had taken from the lander, moving with the clunky gait the spacesuit forced upon him. N.J. followed.
« You may proceed, though continue monitoring the anomalies as much as possible. »
The rover's outside seemed more like an armored car than what one would expect a rover to be. This gave as much comfort as N.J. could have when alien combat loomed in the future. Hyeon climbed up a ladder on the rover's dark metal plating, threw a hatch on its top open, then dropped in. N.J. followed suit. The wheels spun, launching clouds of blue dust into the air, and they were off.

One of the thaumic bolts hit. It stabbed through Operator and sliced electrothaumic batteries, unleashing a vibrant explosion that tore the rear half of the chassis apart. Their brain's psionics slowed to a crawl. Momentary free fall then plummeting. The drone was distant but approaching for the final blow.
Circuits in Operator's brain buzzed. They switched bodies. They fell out of the chassis.

Lander Resh-1 jutted out from the desert like a shining metal beacon. It towered over N.J and Hyeon as they ran from the rover, rushing past the lander's blackened engines and the thick legs of its landing gear that impaled the terrain. They heard a loud boom above them.
« I cannot interface with Lander Resh-1. Connection issues are persisting. »
It was too late to get into the craft manually, but neither of the explorers focused on that. They watched the arrowhead-shaped vehicle combust. Its debris left streaks of cyan fire and smoke that cut through the featureless sky.
A sphere dropped from it. It was falling towards them.
In seconds it landed yards from the rover, slamming through the ground and bouncing off until it tumbled to a stop. Hatches on it slid open and six mechanical limbs exited, heaving itself off the ground into an upright stance. The top of the sphere extended into a cylindrical "head," antenna and cameras attached to every inch of its sides
"I-, uhm, Enjay, we ready f-for some first contact?"
Panels of holographic light appeared before the alien but quickly broke into glitching polygons and flickered out. One of the head cameras had fractures on its lens, sparking. The limbs extended further, raising the creature up, and they hobbled over toward the duo. It paused by the rover, let out a rhythmic, droning sound, then swung its claw through the sand in many wide arching motions. It was writing.
« Ortothan Extraterrestrial Language symbols sighted. Running translations. »
"Ortothan?" read the message.
"Lie or accuracy?" asked N.J..
"Well, could do a bit of both?"
N.J tapped the computer panel on her spacesuit's wrist. Chione did its work. Holograms flickered out of it, displaying a response translated in rough Ortothan.
"Allies."
A higher pitched droning sound in return.
There was a rumble from afar. The vehicle that shot down the arrowhead was flying toward them, a black dot in front of the binary stars. The alien's limbs sped up, etching the ground faster than could be seen. Symbols without translation, phrases broken by messy writing, occasional wind gusts washing messages away. Only a fractured message was left.
"Worker holy weapons. Attack new weapon destroy holy weapons. Twelve Stars attack. Followed."
The rumble grew louder. The alien added more symbols.
"Tell…" Something unrecognizable came after. "…of new weapon threat."
N.J. tapped again. "I don't understand."
The same message was written again.
"I don't understand."
A lower droning. N.J. hastily stepped back as it scrambled to her, yelping when its claws grabbed her arm. There was a flash of yellow and her hologram contorted, morphing into a new form. A rendition of Gateway's two stars and three planets, zooming out from the one upon which they stood and into an expanse of nearby stars, panning over, zooming in on the moon of a large planet orbiting far from a supergiant star. Zoom out, pan over, zoom in; repeating. Directions.
The alien stepped back. The rumble was now louder than anything else. The vehicle descended to the surface and sped over, no longer a black silhouette. It was a silver pyramid tipped sideways, gun barrels extending from every face, floating between glowing halos — one above, one below. Sand whipped past the bottom halo's edges. The closer it came, the more N.J. could see patterns of strange icons painted in long, green stripes that looped around its sides.
"Fuck," Hyeon muttered. "We're fucked."
N.J. silently tried reign in her panicked breathing. She suddenly felt a pulsing sensation run through her body. She hadn't felt it since she had attempted thaumaturgy decades ago, but it came with familiarity. Something was bending the aether.
The vehicle was now yards from the rover. It swiveled between the halos and took aim. With a mechanical whine, gleaming thaumic bolts shot from the barrels in quick succession. The alien's limbs jumped between kinetohazardous glyph after kinetohazardous glyph, bolts ricocheting inches from their metal body and slamming back into the attacker. Despite the craters the bolts left, it didn't stop. It fired faster.
One limb left the glyphs and formed a final message in the sand.
"Holy Fourth live eternal."
The glyphs faltered. A lightning strike of a bolt shore through the arms and head. Half the body fell, the rest ejected backwards. The spacesuit blocked much of her senses but N.J felt like she could still smell the burning organs and orange blood spilling from the corpse.
The vehicle swiveled again. Barrels trained on N.J. and Hyeon. Deer in the headlights of a truck. N.J.'s heart was beating harder, harder, harder. There was a glimmer of white energies down the shaft of a barrel. She closed her eyes.
. . .
She opened her eyes. The light down the barrel faded. A new light flashed within her eyes, dazing her until vision returned to normal. The vehicle shimmered, rippling like water dyed with impossible colors, blinking away bit by bit. A cloaking barrier. Gusts of wind and the attacker was invisible. Gone.
« Connection issues have ceased. Contact with Kessler-002 reestablished. Interfacing with Lander Resh-1. Transmitting data recorded by neural implants. »
The lander's ramp slid down and the airlock hatch it led to opened. Bulky panels slid apart by the rover, mechanical arms exiting, latching onto its sides and hoisting it into the lander's storage space with great clunks. The machines lowered an empty biohazard container by the corpse.
« Retrieve the cadaver for research and eventual transportation to Orbital Area-11. »
N.J. gagged. She turned to Gateway's binary stars. Her hologram was still cycling through the alien's directions. Zoom out, pan over, zoom in. Zoom out, pan over, zoom in. Zoom out…
What were they getting themselves into?

« The First Sailors || HUB || Let the Winds Send You Onwards... »


October 3rd
«Douglas County Police closed the roads into Sloth's Pit today, citing a small earthquake which tore up the asphalt on all roads to the city. As of right now, the town, home to 20,000 people, is closed off to the rest of the world. Governor Walker has declined to comment on the situation—»
Laura Ashbrooke sighed and turned off the radio. As usual, the Plastics People were feeding bullshit to the outside world. She had tried driving out north of town, only to end up back on the southern end. Just another side effect of living in Freak City, USA.
Still, it couldn't be denied that Sloth's Pit was pretty much Halloween year-round, with the dozens of urban legends, odd rituals, and hauntings that occurred in the town. That suited the twenty-five-year-old all too well— she was born on Halloween, and always felt a special connection to this time of year.
That's why she opened up this place out of college— the Witch's Hut. The best damn costume store in Wisconsin that nobody knew about. They sold the usual stuff— rubber masks that had the breathability of a plastic bag, ironically sexy costumes (too many times she had wondered why anyone would want to fuck a bag of Skittles) but they also had high-quality facial paints, spirit gum, fake fur, nylon, liquid latex, and even free cosplay reference material for the occasional attendee of Kitsune Kon or Wizard World.
It was long past closing time, and Laura was in the back, fiddling with a motorized eyeball. She connected the motors to each other and flipped a switch, watching as the eyes set in the werewolf mask blinked and twitched out of sync. "Dammit."
She disconnected the electrical components and popped out both of the eyes from their incomplete acrylic mount— the eyes were more important than the fur, in this case, because she could conceal all of the wires and such beneath the fur. She also had to make sure that the electronics wouldn't let off stray sparks.
"Okay, you're a lost cause for tonight." Laura put the head down and turned to a sketchbook, starting to trace out the design of a new mask, before discarding it immediately. In addition to making custom masks, she made her own costume every year, but had no idea what to make herself into this year.
She laid back in her seat and popped open a bottle of IRN-BRU, smuggled— rather, "imported" from Canada by her boyfriend. It was a Scottish drink that was illegal stateside because of the orange coloring, but damn if it didn't taste good. She drank deep from the plastic bottle.
Liquid shot from her nose as the speakers in the main store blasted to life in the middle of the Ghostbusters theme song, where Ray Parker Jr. was talking about what to do if an invisible man came into your house. She slammed the bottle on the counter, and looked through the curtain dividing her workshop and the store itself.
The lights were on, and several of the costumes on one of the racks were moving, as if someone had brushed past them. A bulk package of vampire fangs in one of the aisles fell onto the floor with the loud slap of plastic on tile.
Laura grabbed a baseball bat by her door and walked out into the sales floor proper. The lights in the building were on as a deterrent to thieves, but it wasn't deterrent enough.
"I'm armed!" Laura called. "Show yourself!"
The shadow moved, the sound of scraping claws echoing against the floor. Laura's hair prickled, and she held her bat tighter, getting out her cell phone and dialing 911.
"Douglas County 911, do you require police, fire, or—"
"Police," Laura whispered. "Sloth's Pit PD. I- I'm in the Witch's Hut on Main Street, the costume store. I t-think a critter got in here with me."
"I'll notify them. Can you stay on the line?"
"I'll try— shit!"
Laura dropped her phone as she saw what stood before her.
All she saw was a pair of claws, scraping against the ground, like a pair of keratinous legs sliding on the tile. It took her a moment to realize that they were even claws— the hand they were attached to was incomplete. There was nothing else attached to the hand, no sinew, no shadow, not even a suggestions of what might be there.
The claws stopped and reached towards Laura. She saw a suggestions of where the arm should be, but the limb seemed to flex from all directions, pure ambiguity. She heard a whisper form from the non-existence, something which crept into her mind and made her consciousness freeze over, and all light and vision vanished.
The dark is real, and so is the cold, mask-maker, make my story be told.
"What the fuck are you?"
I am the half-formed idea in your brain, and if you obey me, boons you shall gain.
"A-are you— the-the pumpkin th—"
The Black Autumn? Nay, I am not a representative of the autumnal rot. I am something that comes from the Un— the Unknown, the Unliving, the Unthought.
"What do you want?"
As I said, mask-maker mine, craft me a story, one so very fine. And entitle it after me, if you will— the Pit Sloth, making their first kill.
Laura Ashbrooke startled awake, knocking over the mannequin head on her desk. She heard the chirping of birds through the window in the back room, and sunlight washed in. She groaned, and checked her pocket— her phone was still there, her bat was by the door. Just a dream. A freaky, freaky dream.
She sighed and rubbed her face, pulling out her computer. She'd been looking for something to write, to enter the horror writing contest the library held every Halloween. She'd failed to enter the last three years, but this would be different.

As opening time approached, Laura patrolled the hallways and took inventory. She heard the front door's bell jingle; Edward Valentine, her partner in crime, entered and looked down the aisle at her, carrying a pair of coffees in a styrofoam tray. "Morning."
"Hey," Laura responded.
"Plastics people are still sayin' we can't leave town. Word is they're gonna airlift in stuff."
"So, I can't go to Superior, and I'm almost out of liquid latex." Laura chewed her lip. "Great."
"Eh, it'll probably be safe to leave town by the time your clients need the masks." He stepped forward, brushing his black-and-white dyed hair from his face. He stopped and sniffed at the air. "Was there something burning in here?"
"Fuck, I hope not." Laura grabbed a stepstool and looked over the tops of the shelves. After 2016, she had learned to never stock rubber masks on the top shelves, in case the lights got too hot. To her relief, there was no smoldering synthetic materials on the top shelf. "Weird. I smell it, too."
"Playground at school caught fire once," Ed scratched his cheek. "Smells like that. Burning mulch."
"Don't have time to deal with phantom smells. As of right now, this, and whatever we have in the back, is our inventory. We need to manage."
"Hey, bright side? Nobody can go to the Spirit in Superior to get their Halloween fix. They gotta come to us."
"Yeah," Laura admitted, putting the stepstool aside. "Had a weird dream last night."
"Slept here again?" Ed guessed.
"Yeah. There was this giant… arm, just going through the aisles. It talked in nursery rhymes."
"What kind of arm?"
"Two fingers on the end."
Ed snorted. "Another Jurassic Park dream?"
"No," Laura shook her head. "This wasn't a T. Rex arm. It was… remember when we saw that sloth in the Duluth Zoo? It was like that."
"Great. Town weirdness is getting to us." He offered Laura the coffee tray.
Laura took one with a green dot on the cup before Ed could say anything, and took a deep drink of it. He gasped, "No!"
"What?"
"That was mine! It had almond milk in it!"
"Shit!" Laura bolted to the back room. Her Epipen was out on the counter, next to her laptop, where she had started writing. She grasped at it, catching a glance at some words on her screen. They seemed to form a distinct message.

The great hand chased her through the yard, its twin nails leaving trenches in its wake. Jenna had stopped being able to scream hours ago, and now, she just ran, tears running down her face.
She finally came to the back door after what seemed like hours. "Please!" she sobbed through the screen. "Carl! I need you to let me in! It's after me!"
"Fuck's sake, Jenna," her husband snapped, "There's no such thing as the Pit Sloth!"

Laura looked down at her Epipen. She didn't feel any swelling in her throat, no choking, no inflammation or panic. She could breathe, her heart was beating slowly, calmly. The pen stayed in her hand, and she put it down, her breath coming in and out of her nose clearly.
"You sure that was almond milk in there?" she asked.
"Yeah!" Ed dashed in after her. "Are you—"
"I'm… fine." She displayed the unused adrenaline pen to him. "What the hell?"
Ed frowned, and opened the top of the coffee cup, looking into it. "Fucking weird. Maybe they just screwed up my order?"
"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth." She looked at the screen, at that bit of story. It wasn't showing anything odd, nothing that stood out. But she made a note to edit it later.

The Witch's Hut was bustling at 3:00 in the afternoon. High school had gotten out half an hour earlier, and now the kids from the elementary school were flocking into the shop. While a pair of seniors made lewd gestures with the sexy outlet and plug costume (something that Laura was giving them both a considerable stinkeye for doing), Ed Valentine helped a parent pick out fog juice that wouldn't trigger her son's asthma.
He waved her off. As he did, he looked at the front of the store, and noticed that there were two shafts of light coming in through the poster for the annual horror film festival, like a pair of clawmarks. They only way those marks could have been made was through the glass, but it was intact.
He shuddered, and went to the back to get another poster. This town was already weird enough, and it seemed to get worse every October. Still, if worst came to worst, the Plastics People would come through. They always did.
"Laura, hon?" He called as she finished checking out some customers. "Where are the posters for the window?"
"Third box on the right as you come in the door." She looked up and groaned. "While you're back there, pick up one of those inflatable Draculas? I think we've got some interested customers."
"On it." Ed dreaded what was to come— the Yard Draculas always found their way to the top shelves, and they were heavy, and hard to bring down from there. But they were profitable.
He ducked into the back room, and turned on the light switch. At the other end of the room, looking at him out of a pit of darkness, were a pair of black, beady eyes. Two pairs of claws seemed to be pushing it out of the pit.
Ed recoiled, blinking as he did so. The pit vanished, and in its place, he found an inflatable yard Dracula in a box.
"…okay." He swallowed, and collected the product. "Thanks… weird… hole ghost."
He collected the poster from the box and left the room. He'd seen ghosts before— but this felt different. It felt like he had just looked into a bad dream he couldn't remember— even now, he was starting to forget about it.
By the time Edward Valentine had replaced the poster, it had slipped his mind almost completely.

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