Notes: this is my annual Halloween fic, and I'm excited for the twists and turns I have planned for it. Illya's attitude towards the supernatural was taken from the official novel The Vampire Affair; despite not being a believer, he is clearly unsettled by strange happenings—especially when Napoleon's safety is involved. And lastly, the legend of Stingy Jack is a real Irish legend that explains the origins of the jack-o-lantern.

"Am I the only one who finds it awkward to be having a gunfight in a cemetery?" Illya muttered, as he and Napoleon sought cover behind a mausoleum against a pair of THRUSHies. "It seems so disrespectful to the dead."

"You're not alone; if I could move this fight, I would," Napoleon said. "But THRUSH were the ones who fired on us—and we didn't tell them to come here."

"We did instigate the fight, trying to obtain that stolen book from them," Illya admitted. "We still need to obtain it." He dodged a THRUSH bullet and winced as it deflected against the mausoleum wall, causing a slight nick in the stone, and he cast a quick apology to the occupants of the mausoleum.

"A book that ancient looks like it'll fall apart before we're through with this fight," Napoleon mused. "There must be something coded in there—why else would they be after a beat-up, old volume?"

"It could have some sort of value as an antiquity; perhaps they wish to sell it to obtain funds for some nefarious project."

"Also possible," Napoleon agreed. "But, whatever it is, they want the book, so we need to get it from them."

He sent a well-aimed tranquilizer dart at one of the two THRUSHies, knocking the gun out of his hand and sending it into the shadows of some headstones. The unfortunate THRUSH agent's companion, seeing that he was now a liability, proceeded to strike him on the back with the handle of his gun, took the old book from him, and bolted, expecting Napoleon and Illya to detain the unconscious one.

"Cuff that one," Napoleon instructed Illya, indicating the fallen THRUSHie.

He took off after the fleeing one, taking a straight path and vaulting over a few headstones until he was able to tranquilize the other one. The other THRUSHie sunk to the ground, and the book landed on the grass behind him. Napoleon put a pair of handcuffs on him before picking up the book.

It was battered and used, by the looks of it, and it smelled of age. There was no title on the cover, and Napoleon was surprised to see the entire book written in ink as he paged through it. The ink was still readable, but based on the age of the book, it was safe to assume that there was no code in it.

"What's verdict on the book?" Illya asked, as he dragged his prisoner over.

"Antiquity," Napoleon said. "It's a strange book—full of spooky poems and rhymes. See, look—even this little note on the first page… 'To the one who finds this book, either place it down or take a look. As you speak it, you will unfurl beings from another world.' What a find, considering Halloween is tomorrow!"

"THRUSH wanted to steal a book of Halloween rhymes? What sort of price would that even fetch?" Illya scoffed.

"That's anyone's guess," Napoleon said, paging through it again. "We'll send this down to evidence, and they'll figure out what it is and what it's worth-"

They ducked instinctively as more shots rang out.

"It's worth plenty to them," Illya observed, as three more THRUSHies now approached them.

The two partners each grabbed a prisoner, Napoleon also holding onto the old book as Illya once again sought refuge behind the mausoleum. Napoleon muttered as a battered page from the book fell out, floating across the cemetery as the breeze carried it away. He momentarily considered going after it, but a narrow miss from a THRUSH bullet and a shout of alarm from Illya made him think better of it, and he retreated behind the mausoleum along with his partner.

"I'm beginning to doubt the antiquity value of this book if it's falling apart like that," Napoleon muttered.

"…They're chasing after the page!" Illya said, marveling as the three new THRUSHies stopped firing at them and did just that.

Napoleon shrugged and tranquilized two of the three THRUSHies; the third one launched himself at the page, missing Napoleon's third tranquilizer. As Napoleon approached, trying to aim again, he heard the THRUSHie mutter something as he read from the page-

"'Speak this if you wish to play my game, and I will appear when you say my name: I, the one, who tricked the Devil back: Jack 'o the Lantern, known as Stingy Jack.'"

Napoleon was suddenly thrown off of his feet by a large gust of wind as he had approached the THRUSHie, sending him flying away several feet; the THRUSHie also was sent flying. The page also landed beside Napoleon, showing a drawing of a shadow-cloaked man holding a turnip carved into a lantern.

"Napoleon!" Illya exclaimed, running over to him. "Napoleon, are you alright?"

"I'm okay…" he said, as Illya helped him up. "But what was that!? It was like a tiny tornado whipped up right around me!"

"It was me," a voice said.

The two looked back at the book, staring as the shadow-cloaked man with the turnip-lantern floated a few feet above them, holding the struggling THRUSHie who summoned him by the ankle, dangling him above the ground.

"What is that?" Illya snarled. "Have we been drugged by THRUSH!?"

"…Would we be seeing the same hallucination if we were both drugged?" Napoleon wondered aloud, confused. He groaned, looking at the book in his hand and the page at his feet. "This… This isn't an old book about spooky poems and rhymes, is it?"

"Not at all, my good man," the being responded. "'Tis a book that can open a doorway to another world—a world where I was trapped, but now, thanks to you and your little squabble, I am free. Jack is the name."

"…Stingy Jack," Napoleon realized. "Ok, no… This… This isn't happening. Illya, you're right; we're both seeing things."

"Rest assured, Mr. Solo," Jack. "'Tis quite real. You see, I had tricked Ol' Scratch twice in me lifetime—made him promise he could never claim my soul. Heaven didn't want me, and Ol' Scratch said he couldn't go back on his word. I wandered aimlessly, tricking all I encountered, until the Devil trapped me in that other world. A loophole—he could not claim me, yet there was no agreement about whether or not he could do that."

"And so now, you are free, and you are going to wander around aimlessly again?" Illya said. "Very well, do so and do not trouble us."

"I will not be cast aside and forgotten!" Jack snarled at him. "No longer will I wander aimlessly—this world will answer to me now-!"

BANG.

Napoleon, taking advantage of Jack's monologue, had fired his Special at him, but the tranquilizer dart phased right through him.

"My dear Mr. Solo," Jack tutted. "I could have told you that you would not be able to stop me that way. I was going to let you be, but you need to be taught a lesson. And so, I will use you as an instrument in my plan."

"You will not touch him," Illya said, coldly. "I do not know who you or what you are—everything logical says that you should not exist. But no matter what you are, you will not lay a hand on my partner."

"So protective and loyal. How intriguing. Perhaps I can use both of you," Jack mused. "Very well, Gentlemen, the die is cast—if you can outwit me before the first sunrise after All Hallow's Eve, I will admit defeat."

"We do not have to accept this challenge of yours!" scoffed Illya. "We did not summon you!"

"You do not," Jack agreed. He glanced at the THRUSHie he was holding. "But he does. He was the one who set me free. …Unless you wish to take my challenge in his stead, the world will have to depend on him!" He gave the THRUSHie a shake, and the man began to whimper and plead to be let down.

"Then let it depend on him!" Illya fumed, unfeeling. "Come, Napoleon; this does not concern us! THRUSH summoned him, so this is their problem! Let them pay the price for meddling!"

"As much as I want to," Napoleon said. "It's in our job description to clean up THRUSH's messes."

"Not for things like this…" Illya said. "…Whatever this is! What is the worst that can happen?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Jack sneered. "Most of that book really is idle lore and poetry, but some of them are actual spells that open the gateway to the world where I was banished. Who knows what I can do with the knowledge of those spells?"

Napoleon scowled.

"He is trying to bait you," Illya said. "Leave him be, Napoleon; this is not our fight. Once he is done making a nuisance of himself, he will go away."

"…Do you really believe that?" Napoleon asked.

Illya looked at him, helplessly.

"Whether I do or not believe that, I do know that I do not want anything to happen to you. Napoleon, the last time we dealt with something unexplainable, I nearly lost you forever." The Russian's heart twisted in his chest as he recalled the time Napoleon had been possessed. It pained him to admit it, but he was afraid—afraid of having to face things he couldn't explain with rational logic, and afraid of what those things could do to Napoleon. "Napoleon… You do not have to take up the call for every little thing that goes wrong, especially when it is… something like this."

Napoleon understood what Illya was trying to say. Illya still had trouble believing in things he couldn't explain, and after their past experiences with such things, Napoleon certainly couldn't blame him for it.

"I don't want anything happening to you, too, Illya," he said. "You know that. But I have this feeling that Jack isn't going to stop acting out until we do something about it—or at least, if I do." Napoleon looked back at Jack, and he let out a yelp as Jack began hoisting up the panicking THRUSHie he was holding even higher into the air. "Hey! Hey! You put him down right now!" He caught his choice of words. "Gently!"

Jack giggled.

"I don't feel so inclined to release this fellow," Jack mused. "I'll find some use for him—the other one, too. …Or, how about a deal, eh? You give me the book for this fellow here?"

"Shut up," Napoleon grumbled, flipping through the book, looking for something that would help. "Okay, hopefully this will work to send him back—Illya, get ready to catch that THRUSHie after I do this."

Illya wasn't so sure; Jack looked more smug rather than concerned about going back to a realm where he'd been imprisoned.

"Napoleon, wait…" he said. "Napoleon, please, don't do this—let's just walk away-"

"Look, he wants the book so that we can't use it to send him back—so that's just what we've got to do. We put an end to this, and nobody gets hurt." Napoleon cleared his throat. "'Where the foulest trickster's once escaped, that door will open once again—a world that is the perfect prison, full of darkness and of pain.'"

Though the sky was clear, a crack of thunder filled the air as a dark, shadowy portal appeared in the sky beside Jack. Napoleon glanced up at him in triumph, but his look soon switched to one of sheer horror as, instead of Jack being pulled into the portal, a hoard of agonized-looking spirits burst forth from the portal.

"Napoleon!" Illya yelled.

"…Did I mention that some of those verses were written by myself?" Jack said, grinning down at them. "Failsafes."

"Napoleon, he tricked us!" Illya fumed.

"No, he tricked me," Napoleon said. He began to page through the book again. "I think we have to figure out which are the real verses and which ones are by him; that's the key to this whole thing."

"Napoleon—!" Illya cried.

"You should have listened to your partner, Mr. Solo!" Jack taunted, as now ambulatory skeletons emerged from the portal, walking across the cemetery.

"That isn't even possible!" Illya fumed. "Bones cannot move without musculature! It is basic anatomy!"

"Never mind that—we have to close the portal!" Napoleon said. "Ah… Okay, here… 'An easy answer to a problem posed; that which was opened is now closed.'"

To his immense relief, the portal closed, but it did nothing to stop the spirits and skeletons that were already loose; as Jack cackled, flying off while dragging the screaming THRUSHie he was carrying, the other tranquilized THRUSHies were being carted off by the creatures, as well. And the skeletons were advancing upon Napoleon and Illya, as well.

"Napoleon, we must run!" Illya said.

"But the other THRUSHies-"

"Forget them!" Illya said. He let out a shout as a wailing spirit dove at them from the sky, and, desperate, he tackled Napoleon out of the way. The book went flying out of Napoleon's hands.

"No!"

Napoleon made a grab for the book, but one of the skeletons seized it first, leering at him with its empty eyes.

"Leave it!" Illya ordered, pulling his partner to his feet and practically dragging him out of the cemetery.

Seeing no practical way to retrieve the book, Napoleon had no choice but to go along with Illya, wishing he had listened to his partner and not attempted to play Jack's twisted game, which had only made everything worse.

"Oh, Illya…" he sighed. "What have I done…?"