The tall skinny man with no face lurks in the shadows as miniature ghouls and imps race by, chattering about targeted houses as they chomp down on their victims mercilessly. He shudders a tad and stretches out his tentacles to reach a low-hanging branch of a rotten apple tree. Two bring it down and three apples roll off. Two roll in either direction, while he manages to secure one in his awaiting palm. He watches as one hits the corner of the street and he battles between the voices in his head on whether or not he should risk being seen. During his inner monologue, he fails to notice someone pick up said fruit until it is being carried toward him. The man stares at the small figure. It is a carnivorous cheese wheel on legs with two large, soulless eyes and a large gaping hole meant as a mouth. He is also eerily certain there is another head hidden well within the mouth.
"You dropped this, Sir."
A soft, innocent voice rings out, startling the tall man. He hesitantly reaches out, plucking the fruit from the monstrosity's offering hand. After which, the petite individual turns and rushes to another house to procure its latest victim. As the door opens on a nearby house, fully-grown mortals shriek and offer sacrifices. If the man could smile at this, he most certainly would.
Instead, he hovers behind the creaky aging house before him, searching blindly for the disappearing treat. He had easily devoured two disintegrating pieces of the crop, but one has evaded him. He nearly trips over a certain canine, being kept on a sturdy chain secured by a metallic stake dug into the ground at a high might. The dog bares its teeth, as though it never could, showing off the wonderfully filed fangs with a dark red liquid seeping onto them.
"It isn't what you think."
A dull voice pierces the scene. The man looks up to find a younger adult wearing a pitch black cloak, causing his cerulean blue mask appear to levitate in the night sky. Though his eye sockets are blank, the faceless man can tell the stare is aimed at him. The younger man continues.
"You missed the grill." His head tilts, gesturing to the smoky black container on scrawny tinny legs. "Smile had a steak. What were you doing out there?"
The faceless man half-heartedly pats the dog's head and moans a tad in response. He then thrusts open the cellar door and makes his way down. Again, he nearly trips. This time, looking down he sees a blur of green. The soft feather upon his head causes the faceless man to inwardly sigh. He moves the teen into a sitting position, leaning against the wall, as he makes his way farther. Turning a corner, he notices flashing lights and swords clashing. He hears squelches and other strange noises. As he moves fully into the room, he notices two teenagers with eyes wider than normal grinning and teasing one another. There is a strange molded object in each of their hands, eyes focused on a large screen, depicting fallen armies. Everything grows silent suddenly and the girl holds her hands in defense. The blood coming from her eyes seems to have stilled.
"Sugar isanexcellentwaytokeepthebloodfromflowingifyouhaveenough. Plus itkeepsyourunningsoyouneedtofindsomethingtodo. Iknowwecantgooutuntilthismessisovertechnicallybutthatdoesntmeanicantstealbagsfromtot swhentheyrerightoutsideourbasementwindowbecauseofastupiddareright?"
The man is in full shock, trying to piece together what she had been attempting to say. He turns to the boy still on the couch, silently demanding an explanation.
"She stole candy and it made her hyper." He yawns. "I'm already crashing."
The man nods then. The boy who had been talking drops his controller and lies down on one end of the couch. The man with no eyes opens the cellar door, trekking downstairs with the dog. As if by habit, Smile retreats toward the couch, falling asleep in a lump in front of the flashing light. The younger man switches off said light and gathers the controllers away. He advances to another couch in a separate corner, immediately falling asleep with no preamble. The older man snags a blanket, pulling the green teen back across an empty step and draping said blanket over him. He moves back to the main area where everyone has fallen asleep but one. The girl's eyes have begun to drizzle again and she hugs the other end of the couch she had been sleeping on. The tall man places another blanket across her and moves to his own mattress but stops mid-step when she speaks.
"Thank you, Uncle Slendy."
"You're more than welcome, Kate." He answers softly, continuing his trek to his bed.
The next morning, Slendy wakes up to energetic chaos. He shoots straight up in 'bed', whipping his head around. He is alarmed at the sudden shift. Last night, the mortals had been sacrificing their young and they were to stay hidden. Now, they are making as much noise as possible and Slendy thinks it to be a nightmare or worse, a dream. He jumps to his feet, towering over the others, bringing the party to a standstill. The pale boy with wild hair and darkened circles beneath his eyes stands strong.
"It's a celebration for us, Uncle Slendy." He announces.
"Jeff?"
He tilts his head to the side, urging someone to continue. Slendy doesn't talk much, so when he does, he is either emotional or confused. Since his confusion can swiftly transform to unadulterated fury, they younger crowd is desperate to keep him clam.
"They're celebrating us. The mortals." The eyeless man supports.
"It's a Spanish holiday." The green boy adds. "Dia de Los Muertos."
"But America's accepted it as their own." Kate finishes. "Day of the Dead."
As Slendy thinks it over in silence, the rest watch over in anticipation. He tilts his head between each of them, finally landing on Kate who he has always had a soft spot for, considering he's known her the longest. He nods. They cheer and immediately race toward the cellar door, eager to show the mortals whose spirits they have conjured up. Slendy walks out as well, with a hidden smile playing along his face.
