Title: Magnus's Halloween

Author: Rita Marx (10/2013)

Rating: T (Just to be safe: don't want to give the kiddies any nightmares.)

Category: Horror

Characters: Magnus

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. Not making any $$$ off this.

Summary: Does Magnus have any to reason to fear his favorite holiday?

A/N: Sorry folks, this is a one-shot deal. The plot bunnies haven't told me what comes next. :\


The front door of the building was wide open. Cold, thick fog hugged the ground as it oozed down from the upstairs apartment. A scream rent the air followed by evil laughter.

A horde of small demons and vampires dashed through the open doorway. They screeched as a dusty spider web pulled across their faces.

At last, reaching their goal, they chanted as one, "TRICK OR TREAT!"

A loud creak echoed off the wall as a door opened. A disembodied hand beckoned them closer, closer. Closer.

"Didn't I tell ya, Magnus here has the coolest haunted house every year!" a small werewolf said, pushing a smaller one out of his way.

"Settle down, Johnny and mind your manners before I have to tell your parents."

Chastised, the boy dropped his head.

"Well. Don't just stand there. Come on in!" Magnus grinned as he stood aside to let the neighborhood children into his apartment. "There are tricks and treats for those brave enough to hunt them out."

With a flick of his wrist and a snap of his fingers, a red strobe light began pulsing, beating to the rhythm of a human heart.

The children dashed in all directions. One looked cautiously at a heavy wooden chair. Was that real blood? It looked like it. Upon closer examination, the child giggled and began licking the cherry flavored syrup off the back of the chair. Another began gnawing on its arm that was made of cherry candy.

In the kitchen, yet another child reached up to open a cabinet, and shrieked as several bats flew out. She swatted at one and knocked it to the floor where it flopped around. The little demon snatched it up and bit the head off. She murmured her delight as she savored the sweet, red juice dripping down her chin. No, not real bats; these were made of strawberry fruit roll-ups filled with real juice. (Animated by a wee bit o' magic, of course.)

All around the High Warlock of Brooklyn, young children and tweens darted about. Cotton candy spider webs stuck to their hair. Chains, made of licorice, rattled, shaken by an unseen force as they were dragged across the floor. A disembodied hand reached out from inside a wall to tap a very small knight on the shoulder.

Startled, he started crying. Magnus strode over to lift him up and cradle him.

In a closet, a set of triplets found a zombie. Its decaying flesh was made of pepperoni pizza. The trio pounced on it and began devouring the ghoul.

Finally, the tears ceased and the young knight looked at his champion. "You have eyes like my cat, Fluffy."

Magnus chuckled, his heart warmed by the trusting soul in his arms. "What is your name?"

"Nathan."

"You're new in this neighborhood, aren't you?"

The boy nodded.

"Would you like a very special treat, Nathan?" he asked, wiping away the wet tracks on soft cheeks.

Again, the child nodded.

Magnus leaned his head closer to whisper. "If you go into the large bedroom, look under the bed. There shall be something special waiting for you."

Nathan's eyes grew large as a smile crept up lips.

"Ready to be brave? For only the bravest of knights can claim this prize."

"I'm ready!" the young knight shouted.

Magnus set the boy down and watched as he ran off to begin the quest for his prize. "What shall his treasure be?" the warlock asked himself. With a smile on his face, he snapped his fingers. As the blue sparkles danced from his fingertips, a prize of great value to a young knight-errant materialized beneath his bed, waiting to be discovered.

Looking around his apartment, Magnus couldn't help but laugh. Halloween was his favorite holiday. It was a time when he could truly be himself. He thoroughly enjoyed this night of all nights.

This was a night when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. This was the one night of the year that he could visit with his old loves and friends who had passed on. And yet, never, not once did he ever ask them what it was like on the other side. He was afraid to know. Afraid that there might be nothing for him to look forward to when that day should come.

No, he never asked. That was not why All Hallows Eve was his favorite holiday. Instead, he opened his home to the neighborhood children and planned out a night where nothing was as it seemed. It was all about the children, and to hear the joyful laughter of young innocents.

There were fruit-bats, pizza zombies, cotton candy webs with black twizzler spiders, and dancing gummy bears the children had to chase down. Since this party was by invitation only, he knew each child and what their sweet tooth fancied. Additionally, each child had a special prize waiting to be found by that one child alone.

He had enough spells laced throughout his home to prevent curious children from learning any of his secrets. He cherished the children for their innocence. This part of their lives was one he had never been able to enjoy in his youth. He envied them.

Absently, he wondered where Chairman Meow was. The cat never did like this part of the day and would usually hide himself away someplace where only Magnus' magic could find him.

The warlock cast about for his beloved pet. And found nothing. He closed his eyes and tired again. Again, there was nothing, no sign of the Chairman. He paused to wonder why, but was interrupted by the sounds of children screaming.

Smiling, he wondered which "trick" they had discovered. He moseyed toward his bedroom.

The pitch of the children's screams somehow seemed wrong. The sound grated on his ears. Then he realized something was very, very wrong. These were not the playful screams of innocent children at play. These were the terrified screams of the dying.

Nathan, the brave knight-in-shining, armor stumbled into the hallway. His sword was crumpled in several places as he brought it around to protect his front.

Halfway to his room the scent hit him. Not the sweet aroma of his patented candy-flavored syrup, but blood. Magnus could smell the innocence in the blood running down the young boy's neck. He watched as the knight collapsed at his feet. His blue eyes no longer glowed with life.

As Magnus peered into his bedroom, all color fled from his face.

Tied, with a sparkly swath of silk around his neck was Chairman Meow, hanging from the chandelier.

Tossed about the room, like broken dolls, were the children he had invited into his home for an evening of scary, innocent fun.

On the bed, perched as regally as any queen he had ever known, was a tween. A tiny, waifish girl with very blonde hair. She was dressed like a vampire. A red smear painted her mouth and chin.

Fisting his hands at his sides, Magnus spoke in a soft voice that belied his emotions, "Who. Are. You?"

"I'm Maureen."