Author's note: Happy Halloween everyone! Do you remember the…unusual…Thanksgiving the Sunderlands ended up celebrating last year? Well, time has passed…and now it's Halloween.
Not only do I not own any of these characters, but I don't own any of the other characters referenced in the course of the Halloween costume antics, either.
A Sunderland Spooks' Tour
James Sunderland picked up the mushroom-shaped, red-dotted hat and studied it for a moment before setting it on top of his blond hair. He tugged down on the edges so that it wouldn't fall off during the Halloween costume party they were planning to attend. It was his father, Frank Sunderland, who had initially been invited, but he had been told to bring as many guests as he wanted.
The hat seemed steady enough, so James pulled on the blue vest he had bought. The gold trim shone brilliantly, although it was unfortunately scratchy against his bare skin. He would tolerate it, though, for the sake of the party. The vest, together with the hat and the loose, white pants he was wearing made up his costume.
He wished he had a mirror, but Laura had rushed into the bathroom with an armful of costume components—mostly involving black leather, much to his alarm—as soon as they had entered the apartment. James had wound up in the laundry room. Looking down at himself and confirming that he looked like a passable imitation of Toad from the Mario games, he had just sat down to pull on his brown shoes when the phone rang. He heard no footsteps heading for it.
He tied the shoes as quickly as he could and then ran out of the room to answer the phone. Apparently Frank and Laura were still working on getting into costume. "Hello?" he asked.
"Is that you, James?"
"Yeah," he said, surprised to hear Angela Orosco's voice on the other end. She was another one of the people Frank had invited, and they had planned that all of his guests would meet at South Ashfield Heights before heading out together. "Is something wrong?"
"Well, I know I was planning to go to the party…but Henry and Eileen invited me to spend Halloween with them, and I was thinking I might rather do that instead…"
"That's fine," he assured her. Then his heart sank. Angela hadn't been planning on coming alone; Frank had also invited her ex-serial killer neighbor and friend, Walter Sullivan. After learning the details of their past last Thanksgiving, James was pretty sure that Henry and Eileen would not want to spend the holiday with Walter.
"Oh, good," she said. She sounded relieved, as if she had expected him to be angry that she wasn't coming. "Walter is going to the party, though. He just left, so he should be there any minute."
"Okay," he said, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. The way the two interacted tended to be proof enough that Walter had truly changed his ways, but James wasn't looking forward to dealing him without Angela there.
And of all nights, it had to happen on Halloween.
He kept his thoughts to himself, however, knowing that she would be annoyed if he expressed his doubts about Walter again. Instead, he just told her to have a good Halloween, and then he hung up.
"Argh!"
James gave the bathroom door a nervous look as Laura followed up the scream of rage with a few more. Following that came several thumps, and he had the sudden image of his adopted daughter taking out her frustration on Frank's bathroom sink. Though her teenage years hadn't yet been filled with the major trouble he had been terrified of, Laura still handled most situations with her special lack of tact.
"Is everything all right?" he called, walking over to the bathroom. "What are you doing in there?"
"I'm getting into character!" she snarled, the sarcastic note in her voice clear. "Unintentionally, thanks to these stupid hair pins!"
"Do you need help?"
The silence on the other side of the door stretched on for so long that he decided his best bet was to just step away quietly and pretend nothing had happened, and then the bathroom door flew open. Laura stomped out, her blonde hair hanging in strange clumps around her head and fistfuls of hairpins waving at him in annoyance.
"I can't see where to put the pins in to get my hair up right!"
James stared at her. She had gotten all the pieces of her costume on her own time, and while he had seen the bundle on the ride to South Ashfield, he hadn't known what she was going to the party as.
He still didn't, in fact.
She was dressed entirely in black. Her black shirt and pants weren't the end of it, as she had also put on black boots, and it was with black-gloved hands that she was threatening him with the problematic hairpins. Over it all, she was wearing a black leather trench coat that stopped just short of touching the floor. The more he looked at her costume, the weirder it looked.
"Maybe you could see if you took the sunglasses off," he suggested, unable to help himself.
Instead of snapping at him, like he had expected her to, Laura transferred one pile of hairpins to the other hand, reached up, and snatched off the sunglasses she was wearing. James looked at her and then did a double take, jumping backwards as the image registered in his mind.
"Contact lenses, James," she said, smirking. "Do you like them?"
"What do you need contact lenses for?" he asked. "You don't normally wear glasses."
"I don't normally have golden cat eyes, either!" she said, rolling her now-very-disturbing eyes. She put her sunglasses back on. "Are you going to help me or not?"
He still hadn't gotten over the costume. He was starting to wish he had paid more attention to what she was buying. "What are you supposed to be?"
"This from the guy going shirtless in October," she muttered under her breath. "I'm supposed to be Albert Wesker, thank you very much."
James raised his eyebrows. Now he knew as much as he did before. "At least I'm dressed as a character people have heard of."
She groaned. "Honestly, James, don't you know that you should check out what your child is interested in? I'm not old enough to buy Mature video games on my own yet. You bought me every single one of the Resident Evil games…and you don't know anything about them!"
"I do too!" he protested, disliking her implication that he wasn't a good parent. "I know enough about them to know that I don't want to know anything else about them!" When he had gone to Silent Hill to try to find Mary, that had provided him with enough horror to last a lifetime. He wasn't going to seek it out. Laura, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by most things. If she wanted to play horror games, that was her business, as long as he didn't have to see them.
"Fine," she said. "You know loads about the series. Now will you help me with my hair?"
He walked over to her and accepted the hairpins, eyeing her hair. She turned around so that he could see the problem. He didn't know a lot about hair styling, as all he ever did with his was wash it and run a comb through it. It looked, however, like she had combed her hair back and then gone mad with hair gel and hairspray on the upper part. Everything lower than chin-length, she had left alone. The result made him look at the hairpins hopelessly. He had no idea what she wanted him to do.
"Can't you put it back in a ponytail?"
"No," she said flatly. "He's a guy. He doesn't have a ponytail."
"Doesn't that series have any girls you could go as instead?"
Laura stamped her foot on the ground. "I don't want be one of them! Just pin up my hair so it looks like it's short!"
"Okay," he sighed, taking her hair in one hand and readying the pins. "I'll have you looking like Wexler, don't worry."
"Wesker," she muttered, but she held still for him to work on her hair.
By the time he was done, James had used all of the pins, and he didn't think the hairstyle would stand up to a professional gaze, but he had managed to get most of trapped at the base of her neck. He told her to turn around so he could see it from the front, and she did so. Straight on, it looked at least somewhat like she had short, slicked back, and rather stiff hair.
"How much hair spray you use?" he asked.
She folded her arms and walked away. "I'd rather not talk about the hairspray, thank you. Now let me just get the rest of my costume."
"There's more?"
She disappeared into the bathroom again and returned with a gun, which she frowned at and then finally stuck in her belt.
"That's a fake gun, right?" James asked, just to be sure. He wouldn't put it past her to decide to take a real weapon out on Halloween.
"It's not like I have a license to buy a real one," she muttered under her breath. Then she smiled at him. "Wait, was that a hint? Is that what I'm getting for Christmas?"
"No!"
Before she could argue, the door to Frank's bedroom opened, and he walked out to join them.
In noticeable contrast to Laura, he was dressed all in white. A white robe fell to the floor, with a dark sash tied around his waist. Over it all, he had a white cloak, just as long as the robe, with a hood that fell against his back. In one hand, he carried a silver staff with a decorative top, and in the other hand he had a wig and false beard, both pure white. He set the staff against the wall, arranged the wig on his head, and began to attach the beard.
"Hey, Frank!" Laura called, taking off her sunglasses.
He looked up, blinked, and then jumped.
"It's not nice to scare people, Laura," James said, but as he had expected, she ignored him.
As she put her sunglasses back on and giggled, Frank frowned. "I never even stopped to think of what color Gandalf's eyes were! Oh no! Where's my copy of Lord of the Rings?"
"You'll be fine, Dad," James said.
"And what about you? I bet you didn't make sure you had the right eyes, either!"
"Toad's eyes are little and beady," Laura interrupted. "James will be fine."
"Laura!" he cried in protest.
"Let me handle this, James!" Frank picked up his staff and pointed it at her. "Begone! As Gandalf the White, I will stand against you!"
"I'd love to see that face-off!" she cried. She pulled out her fake gun. "Come on, let's fight!"
"Actually I was going to find the directions for the party," Frank said, walking into the kitchen. His would-be opponent put away her gun with a sigh.
"By the way," James called to him, "Angela can't make it." After a moment, he added, "Walter's on his way, though."
"All right!" Laura clapped her hands together.
Unlike him, she had seemed delighted at the prospect of seeing Walter Sullivan again. Maybe it was because they were both orphans, or maybe it was just because she liked stirring things up, but Laura had taken to Walter as soon as they met on Thanksgiving. Ever since then, she had been trying to arrange another holiday get-together, much to James's chagrin. He was just happy he had been able to stop her before she could get Henry and Eileen invited as well.
A knock came at the door, and he sighed, "That'll be him now, I bet."
Laura whipped off her sunglasses. "I'll get it!"
Before he could stop her, she ran to the door and pulled it open. It was indeed Walter, and the former serial killer walked into the room with an excited look on his face. Oddly enough, he looked just like he always did. His blond hair hung to his shoulders, his eyes were just as green and human as they always were, and he was wearing his standard blue coat.
He smiled at Laura. "I love the coat."
She stared at him.
He walked past her. "Good to see you again, James."
"Same," he lied.
"Nice vest."
"Thanks…" He wondered if Walter knew who he was supposed to be. He wasn't sure it was a conversation he wanted to start. Halloween in general wasn't something he wanted to discuss with him.
Laura was still staring at him in shock. He noticed her reach up to make sure that her contacts were still in.
"I guess you can't scare everyone," he said.
She rolled her eyes and replaced her sunglasses. "He's just weird. Hey Walter!" She put her hands on her hips. "This is a Halloween party we're going to, you know. You're supposed to wear a costume."
"I am!" Walter protested, reaching into his coat and pulling out what looked like a chainsaw. He set it against the wall and then pulled out a bag of red liquid. "I'm going as a serial killer!"
Laura burst out laughing. Walter narrowed his eyes at her and opened the bag. He started splashing the liquid on his coat. James watched him apply the blood, which he fervently hoped was fake, and wondered what he had gotten himself into. This was going to be a long Halloween night.
"You're putting it in your hair?" Laura asked.
"Yep."
"Bloodstained hair. That actually can happen?"
"Believe me, it can."
James well remembered the conversations from Thanksgiving, and he could only hope Laura wouldn't want a detailed account of how one got blood in their hair. Fortunately, she just watched him silently.
"You want some blood for your costume?" Walter offered.
"No!" She drew back, looking offended. "I prefer to keep my bloodshed to the lab, thank you! Well, and anywhere people annoy me, of course."
"The lab?" James asked, eyeing her outfit again. "You're supposed to be some sort of scientist?"
"You're a mushroom person; you have no room to question my costume!"
James straightened his vest and adjusted his hat, feeling a little self-conscious. He was getting the impression that she thought his costume was silly. Sure, he had on a polka-dotted hat, but apparently she had forgotten that she was the one wearing sunglasses indoors at night.
Walter finished bloodying himself and reached for his chainsaw. He hefted it and nodded approvingly.
"Nice," Laura said. "You want to fight?" She got out her gun again.
"You did a good job," James said, feeling that he ought to try to be polite to Walter, lack of creativity or not. He and Angela had spent the last year working hard to build some sort of social life, after all. "Even the chainsaw looks real."
"Hey James!" Frank shouted from the kitchen. "Come and help me find these directions!"
As he hurried in to help him, he tried very hard to pretend he hadn't just heard Walter repeated in a bewildered tone, "Looks?"
xXx
Frank had made a mess of the kitchen, which was a feat in itself, since he hadn't been cooking anything. Two drawers and a cabinet were open, and books were piled all around. Papers littered the floors and the countertops, and James couldn't help but wonder why he had written down the directions to the party and then just stuffed them in a kitchen cabinet.
"What did you write the directions on?" he asked.
"I didn't, I circled the location on a map of the city. Now I can't find the right map!"
James picked up a handful of the papers and started looking through them. Some were recipes, some were random notes scrawled in Frank's handwriting, and several were maps. There were maps of South Ashfield, maps of the surrounding state, and just about every other kind he could imagine.
"I knew one of these days my old map collection would get me into trouble!" his father lamented, returning books to the cabinet while shaking his head.
There were times when it was best to just work in silence and not even try to respond. This was one of those times. James began looking through the scattered papers, stacking them up and handing them off to Frank whenever he had gone through them and determined that the map they were looking for was not there.
At last, he found a map of the city that had a section circled in dark ink. He held it up questioningly. "Is this what you're looking for?"
"Yes!" Frank took it and set it down on the counter. "Thanks a lot, James! I'll finish putting these away while you get on the rest of your costume."
James reached up to make sure his hat hadn't fallen off somewhere. It was still there. "What do you mean? This is the whole costume; I'm going as Toad!"
"Well, you're an adult, so you can do what you like." He snorted. "But as your father, I just have to warn you that it's cold outside."
Laura had made a similar comment about him wearing only a vest and pants at this time of year, and as he left the kitchen, he tried to think of a way he could take care of that without ruining the look of the costume. It wasn't his fault that Toad didn't wear a shirt. He considered asking for help, but he had a feeling they would suggest something ridiculous, like wrapping himself in plastic wrap. He had experience with the kind of advice he got from these people.
Walking into the living room, he found a strange scene. Walter's chainsaw was lying abandoned by the wall, and he was holding Laura's fake gun. She was standing on the arm of the couch, hunched to avoid hitting the ceiling, and poised as if she was going to jump at him. They both were moving, but he couldn't be sure what they were trying for, as each was going in exaggerated slow motion. They both stopped and looked at him.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.
Laura hopped down from the couch as if it were a perfectly normal place to be caught standing. "Nah. We were just working on some action scenes."
"Is everyone ready to go?" Frank asked as he entered the room, the map of South Ashfield in his hand.
"Yep!" Laura said.
Walter returned her gun and retrieved his chainsaw.
"All right, so we're taking my car?" James asked. They hadn't worked out the details of transportation beforehand, but he was pretty sure that Walter didn't have a car and Frank didn't drive very often.
"Wait, what?" Laura asked. "We're driving? We aren't going trick-or-treating before the party?"
"There's plenty of time," Frank said.
Silently thanking him for being so unhelpful, James frowned and folded his arms. "Laura, don't you think you're a little old for trick-or-treating?"
She folded her arms as well. "You go around getting free candy from people! How do you outgrow free candy?"
"Wait, what?" Walter was looking between them with a bewildered look on his face. "What are we talking about? We get free candy? How does this work?"
"It's simple," she said. "On Halloween, everyone dresses up and knocks on their neighbors' doors. Then you say 'trick or treat,' and they give you candy!"
"Little kids dress up and do that, Laura," James said. He had never been fond of Halloween, especially in the years since Silent Hill. Something about walking around in the dark surrounded by masked people seemed disturbing.
"Not true," she said, pointing at him defiantly. "A whole bunch of kids from my class were talking about trick-or-treating!"
"Maybe they need to grow up."
"What, only little kids are allowed to have fun and get candy?"
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you implied."
"I did not."
"Wait a minute!" Walter stepped in between the two of them, waving his hands in the air until they stopped shouting. James personally wished he had put the chainsaw down before doing that. "What's all this about kids going trick-or-treating? This is the first I've heard about it, and I was a kid once!"
"See?" Laura asked. She took off her sunglasses and gave him a sad look, albeit one ruined by her contacts. "This poor man has never been trick-or-treating. Will you deny him that experience, James? Will you deny him the joy he never had as a kid?"
He groaned. She was doing it again. In all the years since he had adopted her, he had never figured out how she could twist almost any situation around until either she got her way or he felt guilty. He could sense the smile hiding behind that sad face of hers, just waiting until she convinced him. On the other hand, Walter looked generally distraught.
He sighed. "Well…"
"I'll go get us some trick-or-treating bags," Frank said.
"Dad! I haven't agreed to this yet!"
But he just smiled and left them, disappearing deeper into the apartment to find the bags. James didn't know why he would just have Halloween bags lying around, but after seeing his kitchen, he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Now he was stuck alone with the other two, who were both giving him expectant looks.
"Oh, fine," he sighed. "We'll go trick-or-treating!"
Laura cheered and started dancing around the room. Walter looked nervous, and he asked very quietly, "We can actually get free candy without getting in trouble or anything?"
"It's a weird holiday," James said.
"I think it sounds amazing!"
Frank returned at last, with four folded, felt bags in his arms. Each had the same design: orange, purple, and black squares providing a background for silhouetted witches, cats, and jack-o-lanterns. The images were coordinated with the squares to the point where they didn't clash, but the overall look still was gaudy, even for Halloween.
"I've had these for years," he gushed, handing them each one. "I bought them the same year that James decided he was too old for trick-or-treating, and I held onto them ever since then. I knew I'd need them. For the longest time, I thought it would be when I'd finally get to go trick-or-treating with James, Mary, and my first grandchild…" He trailed off, starting to sniff.
James glanced away from him. He had been doing a better job lately of not tearing up when he thought about Mary, but at times like this…
"Come on, guys, cheer up," Laura sighed. "Won't candy make you feel better?"
Frank wiped his eyes and cleared his throat loudly. "Right you are, my dear, and don't worry—you're the best granddaughter I could have hoped for! Let's go!" He set off for the door, staff in one hand and bag in the other. Walter hurried after him, asking whether or not he thought he still looked like a credible serial killer even while carrying the Halloween bag.
James gave his own bag an unhappy look. Mary had liked giving candy to children on Halloween. He could imagine her getting right into the spirit of things with this lot.
Laura replaced her sunglasses and punched him on the arm. "When I said 'cheer up,' I meant you, too."
He took a shaky breath and gave her a smile. "All right. Let's go."
She bowed and extended her arm. "After you, Toad."
He shook his head and walked towards the door. "Thanks, Wexler."
"Are you going to do that all night?"
"Do what?"
She just let out a huff of breath and followed him out of the apartment, muttering to herself the entire way. James bit back a grin and realized with some surprise that he was honestly feeling better.
xXx
It was early evening, but it was already dark out. The light of the moon shone down from a clear sky. James shivered as soon as they stepped through the doors of South Ashfield Heights onto the sidewalk. It also was cold.
"You aren't getting my coat," Laura warned, adjusting her trench coat with a glance in his direction as he shivered.
"I wasn't going to ask for it," he said. With an effort, he resisted the urge to rub his arms to warm them up.
Frank glanced back at them. "Do you two argue like this all the time, or is it a special show you put on for your relatives and friends?"
"We aren't arguing," James said.
"If you say so."
He shook his head. "Come on, let's go." The sooner they got started trick-or-treating, the sooner they would get done with it.
They hurried down the sidewalk, joining a pack of other trick-or-treaters up ahead. It had just recently begun, so there weren't many people out. Most of the people he did see were little kids, as he had feared. This looked like a group of friends and their parents, judging by the way they were talking to one another. They had on a variety of costumes, ranging from those blatantly suited to the holiday, like one boy who had made himself up like Frankenstein's monster, to less spooky costumes, like a girl wearing a pair of fairy wings and a tiara.
Some of the people, mainly the ones he guessed to be parents, turned around to study the newcomers. James smiled nervously. Several of the adults in the group were dressed up, but they were mostly simple costumes. In comparison, the four of them seemed to have gone all out for Halloween, including Walter. The chainsaw was getting eyed quite a bit.
"We're going to a party," he said loudly.
"Yeah, and first we're going trick-or-treating!" Laura added, matching his volume. She took off her sunglasses and stared at the adults until they looked at her eyes, causing a few to jump, startled.
Now even the kids were looking.
"Did you have to do that?" he asked.
"Do what?"
He didn't know how to answer her, and fortunately they were approaching the first house on the street that had its outside light on. The kids began to cheer and ran for the door, while the parents followed. James grabbed the back of Laura's costume so that she couldn't run after them.
"Why don't we wait until they're done," he suggested. "There aren't that many people out yet, so we don't have to form a line."
"Fine," she said, folding her arms as she watched the kids getting candy. She put her sunglasses back on.
"Since their light's on, that means we can knock?" Walter asked.
"Yes," he said. That was true where he lived, and it seemed to apply here as well. He had been sure to learn about any signals used to help ensure that he was left alone on Halloween. It never worked completely, though; there were always a few people who knocked despite his darkened light. Half the time they had been led there by a giggling person who looked suspiciously like Laura.
"And then they have to give us candy?"
"Actually," Laura put in, "not everyone gives out candy. I remember one time I knocked on my teacher's door, and she gave me a pencil. A pencil, for Halloween!"
"I guess that was the trick," Frank said. The silence that followed was broken by him laughing loudly at his own joke.
James shook his head and looked back at the house. The group of trick-or-treaters was starting to clear away from the door, with the costumed kids chattering about what they got and glancing in one another's bags to compare. They returned to their parents, showing them as well, and then the group started to move down the street.
"Let's go," he said, leading them over to the house and up the steps to the door.
"I don't get it," Walter said, apparently giving up on working through Frank's joke. "The trick?"
"Trick-or-treat? You know, candy would be a treat, so the pencil must be the trick."
"Wait, they can do that?"
James knocked on the door and waited for it to open as Walter began alarmed queries about the nature of these "tricks."
"Don't worry, they're hardly ever lethal," Laura said.
"She's joking," he said, realizing that a former serial killer with a terrible childhood might very well take her literally. "The 'trick' aspect of Halloween is pretty much gone."
"Pretty much?" Walter asked.
Fortunately, the door opened then, saving him from a reply. A woman with her face painted like a cat looked out at them, beaming. A bowl of candy was visible on a table to her side. He had the impression that this was someone who loved Halloween.
"Err, trick or treat," he said, ears burning when he realized that he was the one who had knocked. Next time he was going to wait behind on the sidewalk like all the other parents. At least the embarrassment warmed him up slightly.
"I love your costumes!" she cried, throwing a handful of candy, mainly wrapped chocolate bars, into his bag.
"Thank you," James said, walking back down the steps onto the sidewalk to let the others by.
When they all had gotten their candy, they joined him, and Laura whacked him on the arm. "That was the worst 'trick or treat' ever, James! Could you sound any less enthused?"
"I'm not enthused," he reminded her, rubbing his arm where she had hit him—and to alleviate the cold. "I only said it because I was the one who knocked on the door. You knock, next time, because I don't even want to be doing this."
"I noticed you took the candy anyway," she said, smirking.
He glanced down at his bag of candy and then back at her. She had a point. "Well, you've forced me out here, so I may as well get something out of it!" he said finally.
She burst out laughing, but then they continued down the street. It was getting darker out, and more trick-or-treaters were appearing, as well. There was a range of ages now, although most were still divided into small groups. The variety of costumes had grown dramatically as well, which he noted with some relief. The four of them would no longer seem quite so out of place, although he was willing to bet that Frank was the oldest person out trick-or-treating in the city.
At the second house, Laura bounded up the stairs ahead of them so that she could be the one to knock. She knocked, and the door flew open to reveal a balding man in a Superman costume. In one hand, he was holding a bag of wrapped candies.
"Trick or treat!" she growled, in a tone that suggested that if he gave her a pencil, he would be one sorry superhero.
He blinked at her in surprise and then started to laugh. "Well, Happy Halloween!"
James had found himself third in line this time. Once he had reached the door and collected his candy, he joined her on the sidewalk and raised his eyebrows. "Was that necessary?"
"What?" she asked, affecting innocence. She put her hand over her heart. "Did I do something wrong?"
"You know, that doesn't work so well with that costume," he told her.
"That looked like fun!" Walter cried. "Can I try next?"
So, at the third house, Walter knocked on the door, and James knew they were in trouble. He didn't knock like a trick-or-treater, but like someone with sinister intent. Either he was having flashbacks, or he was as much into the spirit of his costume as Laura was.
A plump woman dressed in black robes and a witch's hat opened the door and looked at him quizzically.
"Trick or treat," he rumbled in an ominous tone.
She stared at him, looking somewhat horrified, and James quickly stepped up beside him. "Don't mind him," he said. "I think the voice is part of his costume." He glanced sideways at Walter and added, "And the glare."
"Ooh!" she cried, brightening up at the sight of him. "I know who you're supposed to be! You're Aladdin! You're wearing the wrong color hat, you know."
"Err, no, actually—" he began, but she ignored him, dropping a wrapped caramel apple into his bag and frowning at Walter.
"I haven't figured you out yet, dear, so just hang on." She clapped her hands together at the sight of Frank and gave him another caramel apple. "And you! I'd know you anywhere! You're that wizard!"
"See, I'm well-known," he said with a grin, as James stepped back to give him room.
"You're Dumbledore!"
Frank's smile faded. "Well, no…"
The woman noticed Laura and raised her eyebrows. "Oh my… Let me think about this… I know it's familiar…"
She moved past Frank to stand next to Walter, who was starting to look like he had given up any hope of getting an apple. Laura folded her arms and began tapping her foot.
"Hmm…"
James glanced back to make sure no one else was getting in line at this house just yet. He wanted to see what this woman would guess for Laura's costume.
She had turned her attention back to Walter. "All right, I got it! The bloodstains were the key—you're supposed to be a mad scientist!"
He accepted the caramel apple she offered, but he seemed a bit taken aback. "Well, you got it half right…"
Laura cleared her throat. "Have you figured out who I am yet?"
The woman frowned at her, and then her face suddenly lit up with recognition. "Yes! I've got it! You're that video game character!"
She accepted her apple with a grin of triumph, which faded abruptly at the woman's next exclamation.
"Sissel!"
"Wait, what?"
"But those clothes… your colors are even more off than Aladdin's!"
Trying to hold back his laughter and not doing a very good job, James caught Laura's arm and pulled her back down to the sidewalk with the others. After what had happened to them, he didn't feel so bad about being mistaken for Aladdin. At least the woman was having an entertaining Halloween.
"That was weird," Frank said.
Walter looked a bit dazed. "You were right about this being a strange holiday, James."
"What the heck is a Sissel?" Laura demanded. "It sounds like a disease!"
Another group, this one mostly made up of costumed teenagers, had taken their place at the door, so James convinced Laura that it wasn't worth going back to ask about. As they walked down the sidewalk, he could distantly hear the woman "recognizing" more people's costumes, complete with the uncertain responses of the trick-or-treaters she was addressing.
They had reached a stretch of dark houses, so they kept walking until they reached the end of the street. Frank led them down the street to the right, and there they encountered a house that more than made up for the previous ones. The siding was aglow with orange lights, the windows were covered in fake spider web and red-eyed spiders, the doorway was barred by what looked like an inflatable haunted house, and jack-o-lanterns lined the walkway leading away from the sidewalk.
James stared at the haunted house. Although it was small enough that he expected the inside was just a short passage to the door, the outside was sinister and spooky, complete with flickering lights behind the windows and bats hanging from the peaked roof.
"All right!" Laura cried, clapping a hand together with her fist in triumph. "This is what I'm talking about! Who's shouting 'trick or treat' this time?"
"You know," Frank said, "when I was a boy, we all shouted it together. That was more fun."
They agreed that that was what they would do for the rest of the night. They waited until the current group at the door had made its way back through the haunted house, and then they approached.
The inside was indeed just a narrow walkway, but that didn't make it any less impressive. More of the fake spider webs had been stretched from wall to ceiling inside, and lights behind them made them glow an eerie green. When they reached the door, a mad cackling started up all around them.
Walter looked from side to side, his face ghastly in the light. "I almost expect to see a monster jump out."
"Just wait," Laura whispered, knocking on the door, "one might."
"I mean a real monster."
James wondered if he meant the kind they had in Silent Hill. The thought was not comforting. Ashfield, while a good enough distance away that he felt safe on visits, was just a little too close to Silent Hill for him to enjoy walking around at night. The worst part was that with everyone in costume, the monsters might blend in until it was too late. Even worse than that, he was so cold he might not realize what was happening until even later.
His troubling thoughts were disrupted by the door being opened by two women, both dressed in elaborate fairy outfits. One was entirely in white, and the other entirely in black; their costumes included not only matching gossamer wings, but also glitter on their faces and hands.
"Trick or treat!" Laura, Walter, and Frank shouted in unison. He joined in belatedly, hugging his arms around himself to keep from shivering.
"Happy Halloween!" the two shouted in response, showering their bags with candy, snacks, and juice boxes.
"Juice?" Laura asked, as they made their way back through the haunted house.
"What a weird holiday," Walter said, looking through his bag.
They continued on to the next few houses, none of which were as noticeable in their décor as that one. Following their new plan, they all—or at least three of them—shouted together, and their bags of treats got heavier and heavier.
As they departed one house and the Egyptian pharaoh who had opened the door, James hoped that they would arrive at the party soon. Frank had been controlling which way they turned, so he assumed they were going in the right direction, and they had gathered enough stuff by now that it should even satisfy Laura. More importantly, the party was indoors, where it would be warm. The excitement was beginning to wear off, leaving him too aware of how cold he was.
The streets by now were quite crowded with other people, and James started studying them to keep his mind off of the temperature. He saw one, a teenage boy dressed in a white coat, a dark wig, and shiny round glasses—clearly supposed to be some sort of scientist, with an attempt at stalking down the sidewalk that marked him out as an evil one—and he pointed to him.
"Look, Laura, it's one of your people."
"One of her people?" Walter asked. "What?"
"Another mad scientist," he explained.
Laura looked and then drew herself up with a sniff. "That is Professor Hojo. Mad, yes, scientist…eh… He comes nowhere close to my level of genius!"
"Your level of genius, eh, Laura?" James asked. "By the way, have you started thinking about college yet?"
"You know what I mean!"
"I know, I know, you meant Lester's genius."
"Lester? James, you were closer before!" she wailed.
He was about to comment on that, when he heard a clank from somewhere down one of the streets across from them. He stopped and looked over, but he couldn't see anything. The others had kept on walking, so he hurried after them.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
"Hear what?" Frank asked, turned around and raising his staff like he was going to ward the sound off with Gandalf's powers.
The sound came again, although this time it was accompanied by a low scrape.
"That."
"Sounds like a broken down car," he said, nodding wisely. He returned to leading the group down the street.
"What kind of cars sound like that?" Laura demanded.
"Well, I had this one, and one day when I turned it on, the engine started shaking and smoking, and—"
"It didn't sound like a car to me," Walter interrupted. "It sounded like someone trying to carry a really big knife." He stopped and looked around. "You…you don't think the Order is active again, do you?"
James didn't answer. He wasn't sure he had the words. A really big knife, of all things, he'd had to describe it like that. At least it wasn't just his imagination, but on the other hand, he would have much preferred it being his imagination than really being what it sounded like. He was a long way from Silent Hill—well, not a long way, but at least he was in a completely different town. He hadn't done anything to deserve punishment, either—unless he had lost his memory again, but he liked to think that his memories were now perfectly intact.
He glanced ahead at the others, who were now in animated debate about executioners. He listened carefully, but he couldn't hear anything. Maybe it really had just been a car, or something equally innocent.
After they had visited a few more houses without anything happening, his fear of monsters left to be replaced with a fear that he was going to freeze to death. His delightful Toad costume no longer seemed like such a wonderful idea. It was cold.
"Guys, James is turning blue," Laura said, bringing the group to a halt.
"I am not turning blue," he tried to say, but his teeth were chattering so hard he wasn't sure they could understand his words.
Walter lifted his bag of candy. "This was a great first Halloween! Maybe we should just cut straight to the party."
"All right then," Frank said, reaching into his robes and pulling out the map. "Let's see, we'll just have to go straight for another block and oh dear."
The sentence was so smooth that it took James a minute to realize what he had just said. "Oh dear? What do you mean, oh dear?"
"I brought the wrong map."
"The wrong map?" Laura cried, snatching it from him.
James looked at it over her shoulder. It was definitely the one he had shown him in the kitchen. "You said that was it!"
"I thought it was! I thought I only had one map of the city with something circled on it, but now I remember that there was this sale one day, and I didn't want to forget about it, so…"
"He's right," Laura sighed. She returned the map to him. "Unless this party is being held by the South Ashfield Fruit Stand, that's the wrong map."
James groaned, as he was now cold, miserable, and entirely sure that his father could get lost in his own city. They had needed that map.
"Don't worry," Frank said, looking around at them all. "From now on, no stops—we'll just keep walking until we find the party. It should be obvious; it'll be the place where all the cars are parked!"
They started walking down the sidewalk at a renewed pace. James hurried along behind them, shivering and hating Halloween. He could see a lot going wrong with Frank's plan, but he couldn't think of a better idea at the moment. At least no one was arguing about stopping for more trick-or-treating.
Scrape…
He stopped in his tracks, glancing behind him. He couldn't see anything. A car, it had to be a car. He raced to catch up with the others, sticking close to them for the slight amount of warmth it offered. Darn costume; he knew he should have worn a shirt.
At the next intersection, Frank took the lead, theoretically have the best idea of where the party was. He made rapid turns as they progressed, and James worried that he was doing it simply to look decisive. No house stood out as having an unusually large number of cars in front of it.
For a while they walked in silence, until Walter apparently got bored. He reached over and took Laura's sunglasses.
"What was that for?" she demanded, trying to grab them from him.
He kept them out of her reach and put them on himself. "It's nighttime. What kind of a nut would wear sunglasses now?"
"You're wearing them, aren't you?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip.
Walking just behind them, James was just glad they were still moving forward. If they wanted to fight, that was fine, so long as it didn't keep him out in the cold any longer than he had to be.
"I'm in costume as a serial killer. Serial killers are supposed to be crazy."
"Mad scientists are crazy by definition!" she snapped, grabbing them back from him.
He took them again. "Serial killers trump mad scientists when it comes to insanity any day."
"I developed a god complex!" she retorted, pulling them away from him and putting them back on.
James shook his head as they continued to argue. At least Frank wasn't joining the whose-character-is-more-delusional contest.
"You know," Frank said, looking back at them, "I'm not going to brag or anything, but Gandalf is technically a minor angel. I think I've got you beat."
"We were arguing about insanity!" Laura protested.
"Power beats insanity," he countered.
Some good things just couldn't last.
Their argument raged on for a few more blocks, until he was starting to think that they would never find the place. Even worse, above their wild justifications of whatever point had come up, he still heard an occasional scrape. Sometimes it was further away, but sometimes it was closer. Even if it—whatever it was, because there was no reason monsters would be here—wasn't following them, it was still too close for comfort.
With that in mind, when he looked over and saw that they were passing the police station, he almost collapsed in relief. Two officers were standing outside, handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. He knew he couldn't explain that he was afraid a monster from Silent Hill was prowling the streets, but at least they should know the layout of the city well.
"Let's go ask them," he said to the others, hurrying over to the station.
"Happy Halloween," one of the officers greeted him.
"Thank you," he said quickly, not holding out his bag. He didn't care about candy. "Look, we're trying to get to a Halloween party, but we can't remember where it is. Can you help us?"
The officer raised his eyebrows. "There are parties all over the city tonight; you're going to have to be a bit more specific than that."
"Oh." Frank had never told him who was hosting the party. "Just a minute," he said, turning to ask. "Dad, who—" He stopped. The person behind him wasn't Frank. It was a kid dressed up as an alien. He glanced back at the police officers. "Just a minute," he said again.
He moved out of the line that had formed, looking around. They were nowhere to be seen. With a frustrated cry, James thought back to when he had noticed the police officers. He had suggested that they ask there, ran over, and—surely, surely the others had heard him. He hadn't actually seen them following him, but…
Scrape…
He looked up automatically, starting to feel annoyed with this illusory sound he kept hearing. This time it had come from the direction they had been heading in. There was nothing just down the street, just kids dressed in costumes. Another trick-or-treater was coming into sight now, wearing some sort of robe and carrying…something that looked suspiciously like a giant knife, scraping the ground behind him. His face was entirely obscured, hidden by a reddish, triangular—James screamed and gave up looking, tearing down the street in the opposite direction.
That was impossible, absolutely impossible; there was absolutely no reason why Pyramid Head would be here, so it had to be—had to be what? Someone who looked like him? James kept running.
He had no idea where he was going. Unless the others had turned around, he was heading away from them. The thought didn't slow him down at all. If necessary, he'd find his way back to South Ashfield Heights and wait for them there. He slowed as he considered this idea. Of course, he didn't have a key, so he'd have to wait in the lobby…and if he could get in the lobby, then that meant anyone following him could, too…
Scrape…
He didn't even look, but just kept running. Halloween had completely lost its appeal. Every eerie light, every freaky costume he saw now seemed like a possible threat. Hadn't he just been thinking about how the monsters would blend in? Some of the figures he passed were obviously kids in masks, but what if some weren't?
"Hey mister," a little girl said, tapping him on the arm, "I like your cos—"
He blew right past her, preferring rudeness to stopping. He didn't know why he would be being stalked through South Ashfield. He didn't even have any weapons. If only he hadn't lost the others; Walter's chainsaw might have given them a chance.
Giving up on the idea of returning to the apartment, he turned right at the next intersection he reached. He'd go around the long way and head back the way they had been going before. As long as Frank didn't make too many twists and turns, he should eventually be able to catch up with them. Of course, that assumed he wasn't caught in the meantime.
Scrape…
xXx
It was far too dark out. James hadn't heard the noise of his pursuer in a while, but he hadn't seen Frank, Laura, or Walter, either. Even worse, it was getting late out, and a lot of trick-or-treaters had gone home. People were finishing up for the night, and one by one, the house lights around him had winked off. Now he found himself walking alone, through the dark city streets, accompanied only by the light of the moon and the various Halloween decorations.
And he was still so cold!
James sighed and continued walking, starting to despair. It was official—he hated Halloween. They had tried to make this Halloween interesting, and it had definitely been the worst one ever.
He heard something, and although he couldn't quite tell if it was the same disturbing set of sounds that had driven him here, he took off down the street anyway. He wasn't going to take any chances.
He emerged from the street onto another one, this one still lit by lights and home to a few stragglers. He sighed with relief and paused to rest, although his muscles were tensed in case he had to start running again. This just was not his night.
"You all right?" a voice asked.
Turning, James saw that a young man dressed as Robin Hood was sitting on the curb, eating a candy bar and frowning at him. When he saw he had been noticed, he got to his feet.
"I've lost the people I was with," James said, deciding not to tell him about the noises. The last thing he wanted to do on Halloween was stand out on the street explaining Pyramid Head to a stranger. "We got separated a ways back."
He nodded with a sympathetic smile. "Well, I've been sitting here for a while; maybe I can tell you which way they went. Can you describe them?"
"Thank you!" he cried, grateful to have some help at last. "Let's see… Well, one was dressed as a wizard, all in white. He was carrying a staff; it's pretty distinctive. He was Gandalf, to be specific."
"Hmm…" He frowned. "I've seen a few witches go by, but I don't remember a wizard. I could have missed him, though. Who else was there?"
"One had on a bloodstained blue coat and was carrying a chainsaw. It was a very realistic chainsaw." James decided not to say just how realistic it might have been.
"I can't say I remember seeing that one, either, but murderers tend to get lost in the shuffle on Halloween."
Instead of questioning that, he just kept going. "Okay, what about someone dressed all in black and wearing sunglasses? She was supposed to be…err…" He realized that he had completely forgotten the name, so he just shrugged helplessly.
The man frowned deeply. "Yes, actually I have seen that one…"
"You have?"
"Yes, about five of them. I think they all went into that building, right over there." He pointed to a house that was still very well lit, was decorated for Halloween almost as richly as the house with the haunted entrance, and had its doors thrown open. It looked like there was a lot of activity going on inside.
"I'll give it a try," James said, not feeling very hopeful but not having anywhere else to turn, either. "Thanks a lot."
He approached the house, and as soon as he reached the door, he knew he had found some sort of party. It most likely wasn't the party Frank had been invited to, as everyone there looked like they'd dressed up with the same general idea as Laura—namely, choosing someone James wouldn't recognize, from a video game he wouldn't go near with a ten foot pole.
James stepped inside and smiled weakly. At least it was warmer in there, even with the open door. "Laura?" he called. "Are you here?" He couldn't see anyone with both her build and the correct costume amongst the partygoers. "Laura!"
"Are you looking for someone?" a voice asked from off to the right.
He looked over and saw a young man dressed as some sort of soldier, complete with a gun in his arms. "I thought my daughter might be here, but I guess not," he sighed. "I should leave." He stayed where he was, however, reluctant to face the night air again.
"You don't look so good. Maybe you should eat something."
He held up his bag of candy. "I've got plenty of food. They forced me to go trick-or-treating. I'm just cold."
Scrape…
James froze. The sound had clearly come from somewhere outside the house. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.
"Yeah," the man said, frowning. "It sounded like someone dragging a blade around, or something."
"Oh, don't say that!" he cried.
The sound came again, accompanied by a clank. Now he could hear footsteps, as well. He was right outside. There were too many footsteps though, more than could be caused by just one person. It sounded like there were three—three? James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just in case…he had to have a plan.
Again, he had no weapon. He could run, but he had been doing that all night. This house didn't look like it was very defensible, and there were too many other people—something might happen to them if he tried to hide. He didn't have Walter and the chainsaw, but at this point, he'd take anything that might be a weapon…
His eyes snapped open. "Can I borrow that?" he asked, reaching for the gun.
The man raised his eyebrows. "Err, sure, but…"
"Thanks!" He grabbed it and turned to look out the door. He raised it, ignoring everything else. Of course, shooting Pyramid Head had never seemed to have much of an effect, but at least he would feel like he was doing something.
With slow, lurching steps, the figure came into view. He was struggling quite a bit with the knife, and while there were two people dressed in robes following him, they didn't look like they wanted to help. The thing on his head looked more like a hood than a helmet, but the knife looked very real, and very sharp.
James raised the gun threateningly, suddenly unsure. It didn't look quite right for Pyramid Head.
The helmeted—or possibly hooded—figure raised a hand and pointed towards James and started walking towards him.
With a yell, James unloaded the gun at the menacing figure. Foam darts exploded from the barrel, smacking all three of the newcomers and causing them to stumble back. They didn't leave, though, and they certainly weren't hurt. He glanced down at the weapon. He should have realized it was a fake gun.
He watched warily, not sure what was going to happen next. The way the person had fallen backwards there made him even surer that it was not Pyramid Head, but the fact remained that someone had been stalking him through the city while carrying a huge knife.
"Who are you?" he asked nervously. "What do you want?"
"You ran when you saw us," the hooded figure said, much to his surprise. It talked! "It was like you recognized this outfit. What do you know about the Order?"
He stared, his momentary relief at realizing the "monster" was human vanishing. Great, it wasn't a monster that was following him around, but someone from that crazy cult. He looked like the red pyramid monster because he was dressed like one of the old executioners. What could he tell them—that he knew nothing about the cult, but had mistaken them for a nightmare from Silent Hill?
Then again, if they really were involved with the Order, they might know enough about the town to believe him.
He stood there, paralyzed by indecision, and the other two cultists started to walk towards them.
"I think you'd better answer our questions."
Even as he raised his hands defensively, a loud noise cut through the air. It was the unmistakable whirring of a chainsaw being revved up. James wasn't sure if he should be hopeful or scared, and all three members of the Order turned to look. The one with the knife pulled off his hood to better see what was happening.
"It's him!" one of the other two shouted. "Rosten's student, the one who killed all those people!"
"Hit him with your knife!" the other suggested.
"Are you insane?" the third cultist demanded. "Do you know how hard it is to use this thing? It's for executions, not swashbuckling! Let's get out of here!"
They turned and ran, all three grabbing the knife so that they could move faster. James stared after them, feeling dazed, and then turned to see what had alarmed them so much.
Walter was running down the street, with a grin on his face, something dark thrown over his shoulder, and the chainsaw raised above his head. When he saw the fleeing cultists, he turned the chainsaw off and approached at a more normal pace.
James returned the gun to its owner and left the building to join him, as the partygoers were starting to murmur with alarm. "Hey, thanks," he said. "If you hadn't shown up…"
"I sent Frank and Laura on ahead to try to locate the party," Walter said. "I came back because I thought I might find you if I followed those three. When you disappeared and then I saw them lurking around, I thought there might be a connection."
James didn't ask why—Walter had had strange experiences in Silent Hill too, after all—and he didn't mention that the actual moment when they had gotten separated had been at the police station. He was too glad to see him to bring that up.
"Oh, and here. Laura sent this along for you." The dark cloth he was carrying turned out to be the trench coat from Laura's costume, which he handed to James. "She told me to tell you that if you freeze to death, she'll never speak to you again."
He laughed and accepted the coat. "Thanks a lot. Well, let's go."
"Okay." Walter started walking away, and he followed after waving good-bye to the man whose fake gun he had borrowed. "Wait, where are we going?"
James frowned at him. "Since you came to find me, I assumed we were going to meet up with Frank and Laura again…"
"Do you know where they went?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Of course not! You don't mean to say that we're still lost?"
"Of course not." Walter looked around uncertainly. "We should find them if we go this…no wait, that way…"
James sighed and adjusted his trench coat. At least he was warm now.
It still was going to be a very long Halloween.