"This will be our scariest!" "Our screamiest!" "The most terrible!" "Most horrible!" "The Best Halloween Ever!" The town members were practically buzzing with excitement as they crowded around the entrance to Town Hall. The Mayor pushed his way to the front, unstuck himself from Melting Man, and pompously mounted the steps in front of the crowd. "I'm sure this will be one of our finest holidays ever," he said loudly.
"Better than Christmas!" chorused Lock, Shock, and Barrel, and the rest of Halloweentown laughed. It was a fifty-year-old joke by now, but it was as traditional as the pre-Holiday excitement everyone was experiencing.
"Any guests tonight?" asked a vampire.
"Aye, right 'ere!" squealed an evil-looking leprechaun clutching a shamrock-shaped battle axe.
"We're going to a dark alleyway!" Wendell and Mordecai were saying to their father, who was crouching down to their level.
"Ah, an excellent choice," replied Jack. "Take care to be back before midnight, boys, or you'll be stuck there until you can find a gateway mausoleum. You've both got your medallions, right?"
"Yes, Dad," they answered, as if they had heard it a thousand times.
"That's my boys," said Jack proudly, standing up.
Sally was behind him, young Mirabella in her arms. "Where are you off to this year?" she asked him.
"Oh, the usual – city streets, quiet corners, wherever I can hide and wherever I can scare!" he replied, raising his arms dramatically.
"Well, you have fun, and drop in on Lindsi if you get a chance."
"Oh, she's more than ready for Halloween!" He laughed at his young skeleton girl in a ragged black dress making fanged faces at the one-eyed mummy.
"It's almost time!" cried Mr. Hyde, and the Devil clapped his hands gleefully as Behemoth grinned stupidly. A silence crept over the crowd as everyone began to watch the minute hand of the clock overhead creep closer and closer to twelve. At the minute to, the Mayor began to speak again. "As you go out into the world to scare,/Lurking in every corner and lair,/Remember to strike hearts with fear/And to spread the Halloween cheer!/Be back before twelve and we'll have a ball/Now go out and give a good scare to all!"
The crowd cheered as the clock stuck midnight and the entrance to Town Hall began to glow orange.
"Here we go!" "Look out we're coming!" "Happy Halloween!"
With a great shout and a heave forward, the Halloweeners ran forward into the portal and disappeared into the world of October 31st.
The Mayor, still spinning, Sally, her youngest daughter, and the Monster Under the Stairs and his twin sons were the only ones left in the middle of Halloweentown. "C'mon, let's go and get ready for midnight," the father suggested.
"Whee!" the twins squealed, and they slithered down the street.
"Can I help you with the youngin'?" he asked Sally in his deep voice. She looked down at Mirabella, who was the first of her and Jack's children who really looked like her. Sure, Mordecai's left arm could come on and off with a few stitches, but so far only Mira had the whole ragdoll appearance of Sally.
"No, I'm fine, thanks. But I haven't been out since Bernard was born, and I'd love to go out again without a little one to worry about."
"Well, if the babies keep coming, we can always use more Halloweeners," said the Monster cheerfully, and with a wave he went to catch up with his young sons.
"I suppose so," replied Sally to no one in particular, and she wondered what the world was doing that very second.
Ellen, twenty-two, short and skinny, and dressed as always in black, looked at the clock. It was five minutes to closing time, ten minutes after she had finished cleaning the kitchen, and fully half an hour since the last customers had left. "Abbie!" she called, picking up the full trash bag of the day's refuse. "I'm going to that party now." She made her way to the back door before Abbie arrived from the eating area into the kitchen doorway. She was tall, with a good-natured face surrounded by butter-colored curls, heavy set, middle-aged, and very motherly.
"You take good care of yourself, Ellen," she called out.
"I will, Abbie. Happy Halloween," replied Ellen, poking her head back into the door.
"Happy Halloween."
Ellen let the door shut behind her, and waited for it to click and lock. She opened the dumpster a few feet away and was just about to swing the bag in when she heard a strange rustling sound inside. Peering in and hoping it wasn't another homeless man like she had found a year ago, she was amazed to see two very live-looking skeletons in dark clothes, about the size of ten-year-olds, looking at each other sheepishly.
"Uh…Boo!" said one unconvincingly.
Ellen felt confused. "Who are you and what are you doing in my dumpster?"
The other one shook his head and made a horrible, screaming face at Ellen. She looked at the skeleton in amazement, and after he was done howling at her, she just smiled.
"Wow, that was really scary," she said to him, impressed. The kid must have been practicing for months to get so loud and deep.
"Really?" he asked, sounding excited.
Ellen nodded, and opened the dumpster lid wide. "Why don't you two get out of the trash and try freaking someone else out with that? I'm the only one that ever comes here, anyway."
"Yeah," admitted the first skeleton. "We kind of figured that out." He daintily put a skinny leg on the edge of the dumpster and leaped out, but the other skeleton, who had done the face, needed some help from Ellen. She grabbed his left arm and hoisted him out like he was a trash bag, and was amazed when she suddenly realized all she was holding was his left arm.
"Um…are you in need of this?" she asked the skeletons, who were busy freeing themselves from old newspapers and banana peels. One of them looked at his shoulder and laughed.
"Yeah, that could come in handy," he replied, and, suddenly, Ellen felt the disembodied arm actually throw itself out of her grasp. She watched, dumbfounded, as the skeleton took a huge needle and spool of thick thread out of his pocket and expertly sewed the partially flesh-covered arm back into his shoulder.
"Well, we have to be going. Thanks for your help!" said the other skeleton after his comrade had put himself back together.
"Happy Halloween!" they shouted, and they ran off into the dark night.
Ellen shook her head, rubbed her eyes, put the trash into the dumpster, and closed the lid, hoping that she had just met some very clever – and seriously messed up – trick-or-treaters.
Shaking her head, she walked out of the alleyway and down the street to her car, a cute little black two-door she loved dearly. She took off her apron, revealing two eagle-like legs and talons expertly painted on top of her black bondage pants, and slid out of her sweatshirt to expose a sleeveless shirt covered with grey feathers. She threw the apron and sweatshirt into the back of the car, and made sure her handmade wings were still intact and ready to go in the passenger seat. Sliding into the driver's seat, she freshened up her dark makeup in the rear mirror, wrapped a grey feather boa around her neck, and started the car.
The Harlequin Demon had accumulated a fright count of over thirty people by seven o'clock in the evening, and was feeling pretty good. So good, in fact, that when he was running through a side street in the suburbs (scaring both an old man out for a walk and a crowd of small costumed children being herded by a harassed-looking mother) and saw a party going on, he felt himself running into the back yard without even thinking. Grinning his weird smile, he slid into the shadows of a grove of small trees and waited for a drifting reveler to come close.
Inside the house, a semi-decent band was doing a pretty good cover of Opeth's Harvest as Ellen strode in. Some of her friends in the corner cheered, and she peered through the smoky living room to make her way over to Absinthe, Quintilius, and Nephilim. "Glad you could make it, Harpy," greeted Absinthe lazily, smoking a clove cigarette. The woman was about Ellen's age, but tall and curvy, wearing the very edge of a decent amount of black lace and not much else.
"I'm trying to be a siren this year," replied Ellen feebly, "but since sirens, harpies, and sometimes even furies get confused, I wouldn't worry about it."
"Don't – we sure don't," said a man in a highwayman's costume drinking something red, sliding his muscular arm around Ellen's waist.
" Quintilius, we broke up three months ago. It's over," warned Ellen, trying to squirm out of his grasp.
"Can't I get a Halloween present?" he asked silkily, and Ellen suddenly needed alcohol.
"Nice try. I'm getting a drink."
"Whatever," murmured Nephilim absently, drumming his claws on the table.
Ellen stood up abruptly, extricated herself from Quintilius, and made her way through the crowd to the bar.
"What'll it be, Harpy?" asked the bartender, a girl named Lucretia. Well, not exactly named – more like known as by choice. Ellen doubted if anyone in the whole house knew her own name, and so went by her nickname bestowed upon her several years ago in circumstances she couldn't even remember anymore.
"What do you got?"
"There's punch over there – spiked, no doubt. I have pretty much every liquor you can imagine, but not much in the way of garnishes."
"How about a Bacardi and Coke?"
"You got it."
Ellen leaned against the bar and tried to breathe a deep breath, but only ended up coughing from all the fumes. She waited for Lucretia to finish her drink, gave her a tip, and made her way to the back door to get some fresh air.
In the back yard, only the loudest bits of music and conversation leaked outside, and as far as Ellen could tell she was alone, save for four or five wallflowers sitting and drinking or smoking. She took a tiny sip of her drink, tasting the hot alcohol and sweet soda for anything slipped in, and then swallowed.
Those skeleton boys in the dumpster still had her confused. She had seen – no, felt – that arm move of its own accord. A computer-animated prosthetic arm? But then, why did the kid sew it back on? She was sure she had seen it – she hadn't touched alcohol for a week since the drink in her hand, and she never did any drugs save for a plain social cigarette or two, so she couldn't even be having a flashback. She was still milling over what she had seen when she suddenly caught sight of something at the other end of the lawn, under the trees.
Harlequin made himself still as he could, waiting for the girl come closer. He vaguely wondered why she looked so puzzled, and then braced himself to shock her as she took another step closer. One more step, he thought to himself, and then –
All of a sudden, the thing under the trees ran at her with an ear-splitting screech, its arms and legs flailing and body glinting in the light from the house. Ellen stared at the creature in amazement. It was even shorter than she was, with green hands and feet, huge shiny multicolored scales on its body, brown and white feathered arms, and three striped horns on top of a grey head with yellow eyes and an enormous mouth. The mouth was so wide, Ellen realized, that the two ends actually met at the back of the head! She dropped her drink on the grass and stared at the thing.
It growled again, and then started laughing. She relaxed and crossed her arms. "Nice job scaring me," she said, smiling.
The thing crossed its arms. "I should say so," he replied, in a low yet somehow sharp-pitched voice that was definitely masculine. Ellen was fascinated at the way the costume's face showed obvious expression and the huge mouth moved perfectly with its speech.
"Having fun at the party?" she asked, wanting to see the amazing costume at work again.
"Just dropping in," he answered, sounding distracted. "I really must be off, I have lots of work to do –"
"Wait!" said Ellen. "Just show me how that costume of yours works. I must admit that I am frankly awed."
He looked around carefully and then back at her. He then lifted off the top of his head, still looking at her, and replied, "Let's just say this isn't a costume."
Ellen silently thanked whoever was listening that she had already gone to the bathroom somewhere outside of her pants. The monster – what it could only be, now – reattached his head and glanced at her with a look that clearly said "Keep that between you and me." He then turned to go.
"Wait!" repeated Ellen, putting a careful hand on his shoulder. He rotated his head to look at her and she couldn't help but retract her hand. There was a second of tense silence, and she then stammered, "You can't just do that to me and then go bouncing off. Believe or not, you're the third strange person I've seen tonight, and that's not even including the freaks like me in the house. Do you come from a nuclear power plant, some mad experiment, or outer space?"
He sighed and faced her properly, and Ellen watched with interest as his horns drooped in exasperation. "Look, lady, I really have told you too much already. I'm supposed to just scare you, leave you shaking, and run off to the next person. Now, why don't you let me get on with my job?"
"That's your job? Scaring people?" She started giggling stupidly. "Is there room for promotions? Does it pay well? Are there long hours?"
The monster sighed and explained. "Just every Halloween. Otherwise I, and others like me, live together and get ready for next Halloween. That's…what we do."
Ellen stared at him, her stomach suddenly turning. "You mean it's a world of Halloween? Where everyone's a monster or a skeleton or…or a bat or a werewolf or something?"
He nodded, and looked at the sky impatiently. "I really have to be going –"
"I want to come with you," she said suddenly. She started blabbing very quickly, trying to get the creature to understand her. "It's always Halloween in my head. This is the only night in the whole year when I feel like I fit in with the world. See this costume? I made it by hand, even though I could have bought something even cooler in a store for cheaper than what I paid for the parts. Halloween's always my favorite holiday, and I'm always something odd and mythological. Like, in third grade, I was a sphinx, and I got my first and only detention for attacking a kid who didn't answer my riddle correctly. Even my nickname is –"
"-Harpy." Harlequin knew it. He could see it, almost, in her crooked nose and hungry eyes, and her frazzled hair. Of course, the tattered wings and feathery costume helped a lot. She reminded him of someone, and then he suddenly realized whom.
Himself, Halloweens and Halloweens ago.
"Yeah, well, I was trying for siren this year," she replied, looking down at her shirt, "but it doesn't really matter since –"
"No, you look more like a harpy," said the monster suddenly. He blinked, suddenly embarrassed somehow by this girl.
"Well, what are you supposed to be?" she asked, trying to be friendly.
"I am what I am," he answered firmly, trying to remind her that, yes, she was talking to a real live demon, albeit bright-colored and perhaps a bit too friendly.
This was getting ridiculous. First he actually started having a conversation with one of his victims, and now he was starting to discuss costumes of all things with her.
And yet, he tried to remember. What was he trying to be before he came to Halloweentown?
It came back in a rush. Halloween, centuries ago, in France – Reign of Terror just beginning, I thought it was still safe to be a guiser that night, dressed as crazily as I could to go out and scare away spirits in the town – drunken revelers, bloodthirsty, though I to be some sort of crazy person, executed immediately on insanity – didn't even line up the blade right, separated the head by the mouth – dragged to the cemetery, thrown in a hole, such pain, pain, pain – wondered why on that day of all days – felt release…ease…joy…and then…eternal Hallow's Eve…
He then remembered how to get to Halloweentown.
"What's your name?" he asked her.
"Ellen," she answered, searching his almost pain-stricken face in wonderment. "Now you know why I make everyone call me Harpy. What's yours?"
"I can't remember any more." He gulped. "But it doesn't matter, everyone calls me The Harlequin Demon."
She knotted her brows together for a moment. "I'd call you Morris," she said with finality.
"Morris?" He stared at her incredulously. "What kind of a name is Morris?"
"It's short for 'Circumoris'," she answered factually, pronouncing the c's like k's. "That's Latin for 'around-mouth'."
"You're a loony, all right?"
"Hey, I'm not the monster here."
There was a tense pause, and then Harlequin, or Morris as he seemed to now be known as, said "Look, I have to go. If you really want to spend the rest of your life and then some in perpetual Halloween, meet me in the nearest cemetery by ten to midnight. Think about it, and I might see you later."
"Wait!" said Ellen yet again. "I say that a lot, don't I? Morris, or Harlequin, or Demon Guy or whatever your name is, how do I know I can trust you?"
He blinked and bit his lip, a rather impressive-looking achievement considering he had about five hundred teeth. Rooting around between his scales, he drew out a thick, palm-sized medallion and handed it to her. It was surprisingly heavy for its size, and Ellen saw a large "H" on one side and a jack-o'-lantern on the other. "That's the only way I can get back to my world, other than through certain mausoleums. And it's only going to work until midnight tonight, which is when I have to get back. So now, I have to trust you."
Ellen looked at the gold emblem carefully and spoke into it, avoiding his eyes. "You know what? You're already well over the average intelligence of most guys I've met, and we passed my previous record of decent conversation about two minutes ago. But you're a –"
"-Halloween monster? I know. And I can only guess that you're over the average intelligence of most victims of mine, since we passed my previous record of decent conversation since you first said 'Nice job scaring me'. That's why I promise I'm going to see you later tonight, and I give you my medallion to prove it. So am I going to see you, whether you're coming with me or not?"
"I promise I'll be there. But, I have some…thinking to do." She pocketed the disc.
"Just know that, whatever you think, you had more time than most of us to make the decision," answered Harlequin. "Oh, and wear what you're wearing now, okay?"
"Okay," Ellen mumbled. The creature blinked, took a deep breath, and with a leap jumped over the fence into the neighbor's garden patch. A few seconds later, she heard a high-pitched scream from far off, and smiled, knowing it was Harlequin scaring someone else. She glanced at her watch: quarter after seven. Less than half an hour ago she hadn't met those two skeleton boys, and ten minutes earlier she had never even known the monster. Yet, she felt that, in that short amount of time, her life had suddenly taken a rather interesting turn.
She began walking back towards the house, and thought to herself, Halloween, every day?
She had some phone calls to make.
"You came," said Harlequin, with perhaps a note of relief in his voice.
"Yes. I called my mother and my sister, wrote letters to my boss and landlord, and I'm ready to go to this Halloween place."
"What on Caesar's ghost did you tell them?"
"That I was getting a transfer to a place better suited to my interests." Ellen smiled stupidly, and started to giggle. Harlequin suddenly found himself giggling too. He regained his composure, or as much composure as a green and orange shiny monster could have.
"So you're ready?" he asked seriously.
"Quite honestly, Morris, I've got nothing to lose."
She used that nickname again. It shook him and threw him off the usual advantage between him and a "normal" person. He was glad she was still wearing her costume; it would make things simpler.
"Walk with me, then. Do you have my medallion?"
Ellen freed it from her pocket and began following him through the crooked gravestones. "You really don't like being called Morris, do you?"
"It's not…usual."
"This coming from a guy with three tentacles on his head."
"Do you like being called Ellen?"
"Touché."
He led her to a gloomy-looking crypt and checked the medallion, which was glowing faintly red. Excellent – he had correctly guessed one of the passageway mausoleums. He opened the creaking door and let her in first, and discreetly freed a brick from the crumbling structure.
"So, do you pull on the right coffin or something and a door appears? Or do I have to click my boot heels together three times and say 'There's no time like Halloween?'"
Harlequin laughed feebly. "Not exactly." He shut the door behind him. "To get to Halloweentown, your body has to be located somewhere near a passageway mausoleum, which this is. And you have to be in your Halloween costume when you die, too."
She was facing the back wall, trying to find a telltale crack or symbol in the brick, and stiffened visibly. "Wait!" She began to turn. "I have to di–"
Harlequin slammed the brick hard into the back of her head, knocking her to the floor of the crypt. He waited half a minute to see if there were any signs of life, then rolled her onto her back and felt no pulse in her wrists. "Sorry," he whispered, smoothing a lock of dark hair from her forehead and closing her wide eyes and agape mouth. Just to be extra sure, he slid his medallion into her palm, and then stepped over her dead body to the back wall of the mausoleum. He placed his hand against the wall, and felt the brick start to give way and open a temporary gate into Halloweentown.
"The Harlequin Demon is back!" The Monster Under the Stairs's twins cheered and greeted the demon as he stepped out of the portal into the town square.
"Did you scare 'em?"
"Did you make 'em shake?"
"Did you send them running?"
"Did you frighten their pants off?"
"Well, all save one," replied Harlequin to the eager boys. By the size of the crowd, he was one of the last ones to have gotten back.
"Is that so?" asked the Winged Demon from a few feet away, snickering. "Did one of them mace you like they did to Corpse Man?"
"Hey, unfair!" complained the insulted, and the two best friends broke into laughter.
"I'll have you know there's going to be a new addition to our fine town tonight."
A slight hush fell over the throng. "You scared someone to death? Really?" asked the oldest witch, surprised.
"Er, in a manner of speaking, I suppose I could have –"
The clock struck midnight, and everyone forgot about the Harlequin Demon as they rushed to their places for the fabulous post-scare party.
"This is Halloween, this is Halloween…," whispered Harlequin as he made way through a side street to his favorite trashcan. He opened the lid and was just about to jump in when –
"Morris?" A familiar voice called out of the shadows.
"Ellen!"
"It's…it's Harpy now."
She stepped out from the darkness to reveal bird-like feet and talons, a grey, feathery body and wings, clawed hands on the end of human-looking arms, and a face much like Ellen's, with yellow eyes and a mouth of fangs.
"Oh…wow." Harlequin was practically speechless. "You…you…"
"Died and went to Heaven." She grinned, showing off her sharp teeth, and pointed to the can. "C'mon, the party'll be here any second."
He suddenly found his voice. "If I have to call you Harpy, you have to call me Harlequin."
Harpy laughed. "Whatever!" She jumped into the can, and Harlequin followed her..
Round that corner, man, hiding in the trash can, something's waiting there to pounce and hear you
"SCREAM!" Harlequin and Harpy leaped out, teeth and claws bared.
"This is Halloween!"
"Red and black!"
"And spider green!"
They laughed and howled, following the growing crowd into the town square hand in hand.
***
FIN! (Zee end!)
Wow! Finally, I get an idea for, plot out, and write a whole story in a week! Yay! This was my first NMBC fic ever (excepting my two filks, if they even really count) and I've only read the briefest of stories here, so if I seriously offended someone with how I presented something, sorry! I don't know how things work around here!
But seriously, did you like this story? I know I did! (I've had a crush on the Harlequin Demon ever since I found out Greg Proops does his voice! Sexy! LOL!) Yes, Ellen probably IS a Mary-Sue, but since I doubt anyone here having a crush on my Morris, he's mine! All mine! Hee hee hee!
Umm…please review? It would be ever so kind, even to tell me my story is just one big ugly MS. I want feedback!