Part I of III

"Grrr...stay...down...you...stupid...scythy...thing!"

Dib raked the comb brutally through his hair again, feeling the teeth cut into his scalp, and then froze as he finally managed to get his hair to lie flat. He turned his head slightly, admiring it in the mirror, shiny with hair gel and sauvely slicked back.

Dib gave a small smile and sighed. "Perfect," he muttered.

And immediately, his hair scythe sprung back into existence.

"Grrr..."

Dib picked up his comb and, girning, went right on back to straightening it again. As he did so, he allowed his eyes to wander down his reflection to investigate the rest of his costume. A dark suit, last worn at Great-Aunt Agnes' funeral (Señor Diablo bless her soul), a blood-red tie, white shirt, gold medallion (which, despite what the mall wizardry shop owner claimed, did not actually have any sort of magical power) and a triangular black cape in place of his usual trench coat.

A perfect Dracula, Dib thought. If only he could get his stupid hair to stay down!

Finally, it seemed to; he again removed the comb slowly from his hair, and when the scythe didn't pop up after a moment, he smiled at the mirror, baring fangs already in his mouth. And not any stupid glow-in-the-dark plastic things either--he'd used his dad's Dent-A-Grow machine to bio-engineer real fangs, and then inserted them into his mouth in place of his usual front teeth. He had plenty of experience using it--between Gaz and Zim he'd found the opportunity to replace a lot of teeth. And Gaz had been only too happy to knock out his normal teeth for him when he asked for help with this costume.

As last year's foray into the horrible nightmare world had proven, Dib was willing to go to great lengths for a good Halloween costume. A holiday dedicated to the paranormal was something Dib had to excell in.

And the skool costume contest's grand prize, a twenty-eight-pound bag full of candy, didn't hurt his enthusiasm either.

Dib bent down and pulled his cape across his face, leaving his eyes to glare out at the mirror. "Bleh, bleh! I am Count Dibula! I vant to suck your brainblood! Bleh!"

"You sound pathetic!" Gaz called up from the kitchen below him.

Dib scowled, straightening up and dropping his arm and cape. "Put a cork in it, Tinkerbell!" he called irritably, scowling beyond the opened bathroom door.

It was an unusually bold comment for Dib, who thought that only Gaz was capable of growling so low and being heard through the solid wood floor. Thankfully there was no retaliation; instead she simply snapped "I'm leaving!" and a moment later he heard the front door slam. Gaz would spend the next few hours wandering around the neighborhood in her fairy princess costume, glaring at the each house's owner as she demanded her tribute candy.

Dib rolled his eyes at the thought and returned to the mirror. He opened his mouth and gently prodded the fangs with his tongue. "Bleh, bleh!" he muttered, practicing his Dracula accent. "Your blood! I vant to suck your blood! Bleh! Bleh bleh bl--"

"Diiiiiiib..."

"--eh?" Dib looked up, startled, frowning. "Who is that?"

This he called out to the house. He poked his head out of the bathroom, his eyebrows lowered in confusion.

He waited a minute; he could hear a small sound, almost like a soft echo. He stepped out of the bathroom, walking haltingly down the stairs. "Gaz?"

No response for a moment. Then:

"Diiiiiiib..."

"Dad?" He reached the bottom stair, looking around in confusion. "Are you home? The costume contest isn't for a few more hours..."

"Diiiiiiib!"

Suddenly all the lights went out--Dib jumped and spun around, staring back up the stairs. He looked around wildly, his heart suddenly pounding beneath that funereal suit he was wearing. He thought immediately of demons, poltergeists, and all the other things that were supposed to come out on Halloween night--"Could it be?" he wondered aloud, eyes scanning the room as they adjusted to the dark. "Some sort of--something? Actually coming here? On Halloween? That's just so cliché...Hello!" he called to the house at large, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. "Is anyone there? Are you a ghost? Or a--hideous moose-demon or werepig or--something?"

For a long moment there was no answer. Then he heard the voice again. "Diiiiiiiiiib!" It was longer this time, more drawn-out, and louder; and suddenly, as he heard it, Dib froze completely, feeling his blood turn to ice in his suddenly skipping heart.

He knew that voice...didn't he? It seemed so familiar...but it had been years, how could he be sure, he couldn't even remember...

"Diiiiiiiiiib!"

Dib's heart was pounding erratically now; he felt himself shaking to the tips of his fingers and toes. He licked his dry lips with a sandpaper tongue and called out, except that he cry came out a soft, squeaky whisper from his rapidly constricting throat.

"...Mom?"

To be continued...