Disclaimer: I do not own Legion of Super-Heroes.
The following story is centered around Cosmic King, Cosmic Boy, and Night Girl, in a variation of the Irish folktale about jack-o'-lanterns, in accordance with the approaching Halloween. Cosmic Boy's name has been changed to Richard "Rocky" Krane from Rokk Krinn, and Night Girl's name has been changed to Lydia Jefferson from Lydda Jath. Colossal Boy's name has been changed form Gim Allon to Jim Allen. Most of the events in this chapter happen concurrently or in-between the next one, so if you feel the interaction between the characters feels rushed, it might make more sense in the next chapter. Some of the events in this story have been inspired from the comic Jack of Fables by Bill Willingham.
And thanks to those who reviewed. And I honestly hope I don't offend anyone with a joke I put in at the end. I hope the whole thing isn't too corny, or if the blushing is overdone, but I haven't had a proper night's sleep in a while, so...
Cosmic Boy: Rokk Krinn of the planet Braal. Magnetic powers. One of the three founders of the Legion.
Night Girl: Lydda Jath of the planet Kathoon. Super-strength activated in darkness. Helped found the Legion of Substitute Heroes. Later became a member of the Legion.
Cosmic King: Laevar Bolto of the planet Venus. Gained transmutative abilities from a ray he designed. One of the three founders of the Legion of Super-Villains. Was exiled from his home planet Venus for having such abilities.
The Time Trapper: A mysterious being who lives at the end of time, and has constantly been a thorn in the Legion's side.
The Fatal Five: Five of the deadliest criminals the 31st Century have ever known, banded together. They are the Persuader, Mano, Tharok, Validus, and the Emerald Empress. At one point, two of their members were replaced by Caress and Flare.
Cautionary Tales: The Lantern
Then
The October sky high above was now turning gold as the blazing red sun started to set in the country horizon. Michael, Lavar, and Eve had set off for a Halloween party when their Model T had suddenly decided to break down in the middle of a country road.
Lavar had been examining the engine, but mechanics were not his forte and he was stumped as what to do. Eve was impatient and trying to check her makeup in her pocket mirror, and Michael was just lounging in the back of the car, not being any help at all.
Lavar closed the hood and shook his head. He turned to Eve and said "no good. We're stuck here."
Eve fumed. "Just wonderful. Not only are we going to miss the party but now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere." She turned to her mirror. "And worst of all I can't check my makeup in this light." She frowned.
"Careful Eve. Show a little bit of emotion and your face might crack." Michael joked. Lavar laughed a little and Eve glared at him. She than glared at Michael. "At least do something constructive, Michael." "I am", he defended himself, "I'm thinking of how we're gonna get to that party. "Don't overdo it." Eve sarcastically smiled.
"We passed a filling station a while back. We should head there and get a mechanic." Lavar suggested. "Good thinking, fearless leader." Michael said. "Oh no. I am not walking down to a disgusting filling station in heels Lavar." Eve told him. "I'm not getting my dress dirty, I ordered it from a boutique in Paris." Eve motioned to her blue and white dress with the white gloves and shawl. It was indeed lovely, and very expensive. But when you had money like Eve, cost was no object.
Michael groaned. "We know, Eve, you keep telling
us." "Well it's true." "Okay, enough" Lavar broke the tension. "Eve, you and Michael can stay if you want, but I'm walking down to that mechanic before it gets any darker."
Lavar started to walk down the road, but he heard Eve sigh and said "wait, I'll come with you." As much as the prospect of getting her dress dirty terrified her, the thought of her make-up getting ruined scared her more.
"I'll just stay here and look after the car" Michael called out to the two as they left.
So Lavar and Eve made their way down the road towards the filling station they had passed. As they did, the sky had started to grow darker. Eve was fretting more and more about her face while Lavar could only laugh inwardly at his friend's constant vanity.
Upon finally reaching the aforementioned station, the two discovered that there were also a few other stores nearby, including an old barbershop and an antique store. Lavar and Eve were confused as to why anyway would put an antique store in the middle of nowhere.
Eve decided that she would check out the store for possibly a bathroom to check her lipstick, and Lavar told her not to take long. He walked into the filling station, decorated for Halloween with a hallowed out pumpkin with a grinning smile in the window and a few paper bats on the window.
"Hello?" Lavar asked inside. "Anyone here?"
"In here!" was the reply he got. Lavar followed the voice into the garage, to find two men working on some old contraption. One of them was inspecting something under the hood when he closed it to get a look at Lavar.
"What you needing?" Lavar replied "Well my car broke down and my friends and I are pretty much stranded. Could you-?" "I gotta finish this up first." The mechanic replied. "But you don't understand, my friends and I-" 'I said, I gotta finish this first." The mechanic was insistent. Lavar sighed.
"Help."
Lavar looked up. "What did you say?" The mechanic looked at him, "Didn't say anything." Lavar looked at the other one. "Did he say it?" "Say what?" the second mechanic spoke up. "I could've sworn I heard-"
"Help!"
There it was again. It was faint, but it sounded like it was coming from outside. Could it have been Eve? No, the voice sounded male. Michael? No, it didn't sound like him.
"HELP!"
Lavar exited the garage, getting strange looks from the two mechanics. He looked around, and saw behind the garage something in the field. He could still hear the voice crying out for help, and realized that it must have been coming from there.
"What's this?" Lavar asked. He cautiously walked closer to get a better look at the sight in the horizon. There was an old tree, devoid of any leaves on its crooked branches, in the field. There were two things strange about the tree. It was surrounded by old crosses. And there was a man sitting on the branches.
"I say, you! There! Come here!" the man in the tree called to Lavar. Intrigued, he came closer to get a better look at the prisoner of the tree. Lavar couldn't see the man's face, because it was shadowed by the hood of the long maroon cloak the man was wearing. His hands, holding onto the branch he was sitting on for support, were old and wrapped in bandages. Yet the man's voice sounded young and spry.
"What the blazes are you doing up in that tree, sir?" Lavar asked.
"Some old woman and her friends managed to chase me up here. An old woman! Can you believe it?"
"What's your name?"
"Oh how rude of me", the man in the tree said. "Trapper. Mr. Ty M. Trapper. I'd shake your hand, but as you can see..." Lavar nodded in understanding, but he was still confused. "Why can't you climb down? Are you too tired?"
"Too tired? Too tired?! Why, I could outrun the fastest man alive! It's these damn crosses that are keeping me up here. If you could remove just a few to clear a path for me, I'd be able to get down. I have a lot of work to do tonight and I would be eternally grateful, Lavar."
Lavar's eyes widened, then they narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know my name, Mr. Trapper, was it?" Trapper chuckled at Lavar's question. His laugh sent a shiver down Lavar's spine. "Oh I know you, Lavar. And I know what you'd like in return for helping me." Trapper reached into his robe and pulled out a wad of crisp thousand dollar bills.
"Money. And I can promise you lots of it." There was something in his voice that made the gears click in Lavar's head, and then he knew who this man really was. "Can you really promise me that, Mr. Trapper, or should I call you by your real name?" "If you want. But get me down and I can offer you wealth beyond your wildest dreams for the rest of your life."
Lavar questioned "I really don't see why you would have any reason to keep your end of the bargain. You could just kill me right after I clear the way."
"Smart boy. I like that. How about this. You have my word that I will not kill you after you let me down."
Lavar put his hand to his face as he thought. "But that wouldn't mean you would give me all the wealth I could want. For all I know that could just be a bunch of one dollar bills and only one thousand."
"Shrewed boy." Trapper growled from up in the tree. He reached back into his robe and this time he pulled out a diamond the size of a lightning fixture. Lavar's jaw dropped. Trapper chuckled again as Lavar re-composed himself with the would-be stature of a businessman.
"That could very well turn into a glass paperweight the minute you hand it over to me. And besides, the way I see it, everyone would be better off if you were just left up there. Give me one solid reason why I should help."
"Because I can smell how badly you want to believe I'm the person you're thinking about. And let's face it. You're a very greedy boy, Lavar. Always have been. And I know what you did to get the money for that school, Lavar, or would you prefer it if I called you by your real name, Jack B. Quick."
For a moment, it feels as if his heart has stopped, as if the world has suddenly come crashing down like a burning building. Indeed, Lavar had hoped to forget about that name.
His family had once been one of the richest families in the South, the Boltons. Land as far as the eye could see and a never-ending well of money. But then the Civil War happened, the South lost, and the Boltons lost all the money they had invested in the Confederacy forces. They were now forced to wander through the states in abject poverty, doing whatever they could to make a living as their Southern heritage all but disappeared from their faces and their voices.
Lavar was never given anything in his life, even when he was a baby. No, according to his parents, only the naive wait to be given what the need. But Boltons, now they take what they want. What Lavar wanted was an education. And rather study and wait to be given the money to pay for it, he went out and took it from people who already had it. After a couple of years, stealing from homes, stores, banks, he had enough for school. He even gained a nickname. Jack B. Quick. Jack. John. Same difference. But while the thieving was over, the greed was still there. It grew worse as time went on. And Lavar didn't know what to do about it. Until now.
"Do we have a deal?" Trapper asked. Lavar turned his head back up to the tree.
"... so let's say I do help you down, you don'tkill me, and I get as much wealth as I want. I still have one problem." "Really? And what would that be?" "Sooner or later," Lavar explained, "I'm going to wind up in the same place as you thanks to my greed."
Trapper was intrigued. "I have to admit, you are one of the few people who've ever stopped to think and realize where these kind of deals will lead. Very well. Here is my final offer." Trapper cleared his throat as he started to air out the details of their business transgression.
"In exchange for helping me down from this crucifix-infested jail, I will agree to spare your miserable life, as well as offer you years of unlimited wealth and bar you from ever setting foot in my domain when your life's candle snuff out."
"And since I wouldn't be allowed there, I'd have only one other place to go!" Lavar was now excited. "Exactly." Trapper told him. "Deal?" "Deal." Lavar replied.
After happily removing some of the crosses littered around the tree trunk, Trapper hopped off the branch and landed on the ground below. Now that he was right in front of Lavar, he noticed that Trapper was much taller than him, almost like a giant.
Trapper stretched his arms and sighed in relief. "Ah, that feels so much better you wouldn't believe. Now, shall we shake." Trapper spit in his right hand and than offered it to Lavar as a symbol that their deal was closed. Lavar, a bit repulsed a first, shook. As Lavar took his hand away, he noticed he now had a nickel in his hand.
"Is this it?" Lavar asked in disbelief.
"Hmm? Oh of course not. That's merely the tip for the telegram girl." Lavar was confused.
"Tomorrow afternoon as you are discussing your last class of the day with those two... friends, of yours, you'll get a telegram stating that a long-lost uncle you never met just died of heart complications, and that in a freak turn of events the rest of his heirs have died due to medical complications or natural incidents, making you the inheritor of a fortune in gold he mined in the Yukon. Then after that you'll receive word that you've just won the lottery for 50,000 dollars. When you place that money in the First National Bank, a teller will be inebriated the following day, and accidentally transfer the contents of the accounts of the two richest men of the city into yours. And after that it will only be a matter of time..."
"Matter of time until-?" Lavar looked up from his hand and discovered that Trapper was gone. Vanished into thin air as the sky above was starting to be filled with stars as night set in. A few minutes later, contemplating what happened, Lavar walked back to see if the mechanic was there and if Eve had found anything in that antique shop to quell her concerns.
Now
Years had passed since that fateful evening. The 20s were dead and the 30s were well on their way for being synonymous with 'poverty' after that Stock Market Crash happened. Thankfully, Lavar never had to worry about that.
True to Trapper's words, Lavar enjoyed the last few years in total wealth thanks to a very fortunate series of "coincidences" in his favor. Of course, what Trapper didn't mention is that the men whose money Lavar had gained had killed themselves shortly after. The first one, Doyle something or other, jumped in front a train. The second one, whose name Lavar couldn't remember, had drank himself to death.
He hadn't seen much of Michael or Eve since graduation. Michael had moved back to his farm, and Eve had married into money. She was actually living in Manhattan as well, but supposedly she had to deal with some step-daughter left over from her previous marriage. Maybe he would ring her up one day.
He was now living in a gorgeous penthouse apartment, with maids and butlers to tend to his every whim. He wore the finest clothes, ate nothing but the best food, and had his pick of any woman he wanted. And if that wasn't enough, he had paradise to look forward once his end came. But, hey, the life he had now, it was paradise. And it was all thanks to that fateful evening on Halloween. Of course, Lavar never mentioned it to anyone. They'd think he was crazy. But, if he gave all his money away, he'd get more tomorrow.
It was the beginning of the evening of October 30th and Lavar was heading out to dinner. He inspected his face in the mirror of the bathroom, his neatly trimmed black hair, steel grey eyes, and neatly trimmed beard were all perfect. Lavar smirked at his reflection and thought I'm king of the world.
As he started out for the front door, he stopped when he noticed the clock on the wall had stopped. He looked at the maid who was walking down the hall, Chi Tsan. "Chi! Get over here!" She looked startled at the request and walked over to Lavar. "Yes, Mr. Bolton?" "I thought I told you to wind up this clock." "I-I'm sorry sir, I'll do it right now." "See that you do. And I'm docking you half a day's pay." Chi gaped. "B-but Mr. Bolton, you barely, I mean-" Lavar cut her off. "I will not pay my servants to laze around. You're lucky I pay you and your family enough as I do. Is that clear?" "Oh but Mr. Bolton." Chi pleaded. "Is. That. Clear?" Chi looked down at her feet. "Yes, Mr. Bolton." Lavar grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "IS THAT CLEAR?" "Yes, Mr. Bolton. Sorry, Mr. Bolton."
When he finally made it to the front door, he looked over at a maid who was scrubbing the floor. "Raye, when you're done with that make sure you clean the silverware. I couldn't see my face in the spoons during breakfast." Raye said "I just cleaned them, Mr. Bolton." "Well clean them again!" He snapped at her. "When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. If you don't, you don't get paid. This isn't Harlem where you can do as you please, so stop acting like it." "Yes, Mr. Bolton", she said as she stood up. "Good. I'll be back later. Try not to burn the building down." "Yes, Mr. Bolton." Raye said goodbye as he walked through the door. The minuted he she tossed her rag at his portrait over the fireplace and cursed his mother for ever giving birth to him.
It was later that night as Lavar was driven around town in his Rolls-Royce by his chauffeur. They were headed to a specific destination for tonight. The car rolled up to the front of an apartment building. Lavar watched as people dressed in rags and tatters were huddled around some of the corners, asking for money and waiting in lines for food and water at nearby shelters. Lavar looked down on these people with such contempt, and a feeling of satisfaction. He turned to his driver, Kurt, and said "Look at them. It's so pathetic, wouldn't you say so Kurt?" "Yes sir, very pathetic."
"Spare some change?"
A woman wearing a tattered old coat and gloves you'd find on a scarecrow was standing in front of the passenger window of Lavar's car. Lavar looked at her disgustedly and said "get away from me, hag."
The woman looked away and walked back over to the street lamp she'd been standing under. Then, the door to the building opened, and she walked out. With ebony black hair and eyes that twinkled like stars at midnight.
"Ah", Lavar said, "Lydia".
Indeed. Lydia Jefferson was a sight to behold. Lavar had met her at a function a few months back, and since then he had been dead set on making her his woman. She was the daughter of some scientist, and Lydia carried on whatever intellect her father had. Smart and beautiful, a rare combination.
She was wearing a black evening gown with a silk shawl and black heels. Two crescent moon earrings adorned her ears, while red lipstick was applied to her lips.
"Spare some change, miss?" The old woman was now asking Lydia. She didn't give up. Then, Lydia opened her purse, took out a dollar, and gave it the woman.
"Here you go." Oh, her voice sounded like mockingbirds singing in springtime. "Bless you, miss." The woman said in gratitude. That was another thing about Lydia. She was... charitable. Ugh. Lavar didn't want to think about the word. Lydia, unlike some girls, did honest-to-God charity work with the city's homeless, alongside that group her small group of friends. Lavar didn't like them. He thought they were weird. But, he could tolerate them, as long as he was with her.
Lavar moved over so that Lydia could get inside. "Lydia, so wonderful to see you." "Hello, Lavar", she said to him. "You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you again, darling." he said to her. Lydia inwardly sighed. This was going to be a long night.
"Do you know where you'd like to have dinner tonight?" he asked her. "Actually, there is this one place I'd like to go to."
The car pulled up to a club in downtown Manhattan. The name of the club was flashed in big yellow neon letters.
"Brande's? As in R.J. Brande? The industrialist?" Lavar asked.
"Yeah. This place opened a few months ago. They went low-key with the publicity, though."
Lydia hoped bringing him wasn't a mistake. She hoped that what she was going to tell him didn't turn into a fiasco, but she needed him to understand what he was doing had to stop. And besides, she had friends here. But more than everything else, she knew tonight was going to be hell.
"Hi. Welcome to Brande's. I'm Jim, I'll be your host for the evening." Their host was a tall man, taller even then Lavar, but he seemed young, probably only 20 or 21, and he had a nice demeanor. He had brown hair, and brown eyes, but there was something about him that Lavar didn't like. Then, Lavar figured out what he didn't like about him in his voice. Their host, Jim, was an... undesirable of society.
"Please, right this way." Jim the host lead the two to their table. The whole club was in full swing that night. People were laughing, eating, drinking, dancing, and reminiscing. The band was playing a current jazz tune that was quite popular that could be heard outside the building. The club itself had been decked out in Halloween decorations for the big day tomorrow. Orange and black streamers. candles, lights, and even some plastic flowers decorated the walls and tables, as well as fake cobwebs and sheet ghosts hanging from the ceiling. Over at the bar there were cutouts of ghouls and goblins decorating the big mirror behind the bar. At their table, in place of a candle, there was jack-o'-lantern with a dopey grin. Lydia thought it was cute, but Lavar thought it was childish. Jim handed them two menus and told them that a waiter would be there to take their orders in a few minutes.
On stage, the band had stopped playing and the club goers applauded them. Then, the head of the band took the microphone, and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for that Arabian Alto, that Sultana of the Symphony... YERA!!"
On cue, a woman with lovely tanned skin, wavy black hair and dark eyes like the night sky, wearing a rose colored evening gown walked onto stage. Everyone was excited she was there. As the spotlight was centered on her, she took the microphone over from the band leader. Before she started to sing, she blew a kiss out to someone in the audience. Would you believe it was meant for Jim? Yera began to serenade the crowd, and Lavar and Lydia started looking through their menus.
"I say, Lydia, I had no idea this place was so... popular." He said the last word like it was poison. Lydia picked up on that. Looking up from her menu, she said "a friend of mine told me about this." "Huh, is that right?" Lavar could've cared less.
"Hi. Welcome to Brande's, I'll be your waiter for the evening. My name's Rocky, are you two ready to-" their waiter got cut off when he saw who was at the table. "Oh, hi Rocky. I didn't know you were working tonight." Lydia was surprised to see him. Lavar looked at the two, confused. "I'm sorry, do you two know each other?" "I've known Rocky for a few weeks now. Imra introduced us." Ah, yes, the infamous Imra Arden, Eve Aries' stepdaughter. "So you know most of the staff at this place?" Lavar asked. "Well, just a few of them."
Lavar looked over this waiter, this "Rocky." He wore a standard waiter's uniform. His hair was short and black, eyes royal blue, and his face gave the impression of someone who's had to work most of his life. Definetly working class, or between working class and poverty. He was blushing furiously at Lydia. Inwardly, Lavar laughed. Like a working class stiff could ever have a chance with someone like Lydia Jefferson. Lydia deserved someone who could treat her to the best. This guy couldn't give Not in hell.
Richard Krane, known mostly to his friends as Rocky, had been smitten with Lydia Jefferson the minute he saw her. They had been introduced by Imra Arden, a girl whom was staying with Rocky and his six friends in the apartment complex above the club in order to avoid her murderous stepmother. Of course, while Rocky did like Lydia, he was too shy to tell her. Which was surprising, when you would consider Rocky's "can do" attitude. Amongst his friends, Rocky had a take charge approach to life, an all-around nice guy whose hardworking demeanor was a positive example for some. But it could get kind of annoying after a while.
The kicthen was busier than a bee hive that night. Then again, it was always like that. The chefs were trying to keep up with the orders and the waiters and waitresses were handing them out as fast as they could. You hadn't lived until you tasted the food that was served at Brande's. This was, in no small part, thanks to the young chief Brian Londo.
Back at their table, Lavar was blathering on about how his work and about his day at some country club, talking about how to discipline the workers when they act out or do something stupid. Then she had to listen to some ridiculous story about his trip to the Mediterranean after their drinks had came. Lydia started to rub her temple. It was already ten minutes in and already she was listening to him brag about his money. He stopped when he noticed her annoyed expression.
"Something wrong, my sweet?"
"No, I just, excuse me. I need to go use the little girl's room." she lied. "Ah, by all means. I'll be right here when you get back." Oh joy.
As Lydia got up to the go to the bathroom, Rocky's conscience was nagging at him.
Go on, this is your chance.
Rocky wasn't sure. She was obviously in no mood. But, still, he wanted to see if that guy wasn't bothering her too much from the looks of things. Of course, it isn't civilized to follow a woman in the bathroom, so he would talk to her when she came out.
After he finished delivering the entre to an elderly couple, Rocky passed by the hallway leading to the washrooms. He stopped when he saw Lydia banging her head against the wall in frustration. Now was the time to talk to her.
"Lydia? You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing that."
"Oh! Rocky. I'm sorry." Lydia stopped doing what she was doing and straightened out her hair.
"Lydia, is that guy bothering you?"
"No! I mean, yes, but..." she couldn't think of what to say. Why did it have to be him? The first time she saw him she felt her heart skip a beat, now it was skipping a bunch of them. At the worst possible time.
"Listen, if you want me to tell him to leave, I will." Rocky offered. "No, it's not like that. The thing is, I brought him here so we could have a 'talk'."
Rocky understood what she meant. Whenever a girl says she wants to have a "talk" it means the same thing. But, then that meant that guy was her boyfriend? But it also meant she was breaking up with him! Yes! He did have a chance after all!
"So, then that guy is your boyfriend?" Lydia looked at Rocky with a blank stare, followed by laughter. "No, but he thinks he is." Okay, that meant he didn't like this guy. There was nothing worse than guys who live in imaginary relationships.
"We've only been out three times, but he doesn't stop sending me stuff." "So? It sounds like he cares." "No, he doesn't", Lydia explained, "He's mean, he's a pig, and he's greedy. I've told him enough times that we aren't together but he doesn't take the hint. I was hoping maybe I could finally get it through to him tonight in a place I was comfortable at, but he won't listen." Lydia sighed.
Rocky put his hand on her shoulder.
"Look, if don't care about this guy, then you should set him straight. You're too nice a girl to have to put up with something like that and there are a lot of guys out there who would take advantage of the situation." Lydia looked up at him.
"You can do it. Don't worry about it. And if he won't listen you just tell me and I'll make him listen."
Lydia smiled. Rocky beamed. "Thanks", she told him. "Why can't all guys be as sweet as you?"
Lydia said thanks again and walked back to her table. Rocky felt proud at that moment.
There. That wasn't so bad. But what if she thinks of me as a "friend"? Oh God I screwed up.
Lydia finally took her seat again. Lavar asked "Ah. There you are. I was afraid you'd fallen in." He laughed at his little joke. She didn't.
"Listen, Lydia. Why don't we take a trip this week? Just the two us." Lavar reached to take Lydia's hand from across the table, but she pulled away. "Lavar, listen, we need to ta-"
"Before you say anything else, let me just say that we could go wherever you want. Paris, Milan, the Philipines, the Alps. You name it. I figure we're do for a change of scenery."
"'We'? Listen Lavar-"
"And in the future, I'd perfer it with we're to dine in establishments more... selective about their staff."
Lydia looked up at him.
"Selective? What do you mean by 'selective'? What's wrong with the staff here?" Lydia crossed her arms and demanded to know.
"Well other than the belly dancer on stage, I don't feel too safe around the host. I don't know if you notcied this, but I think he might be a..." he trailed off before he lowered his voice to her. Oh God, please don't go there. Please, please, puh-lease.
"J-E-W."
Uh-oh. He went there. And he wasn't leaving.
That was it. The final straw. It was now or never. She was gonna kick him to the curb.
"Okay, you know what? You just made this a whole lot easier for me. I was going to be civil and be the bigger woman. I was hoping not to stoop to your level when I let you down, but now I'm going to enjoy this. No, Lavar, I will not go with you to Paris. I would not go with you to Milan. I would not even go into the same room with you after this night."
Lavar's smile started to falter. "Oh come now, Lydia, you're acting very-"
"I am not acting like anything. I am saying exactly how I feel. Lavar, you have had some very big misconceptions about our relationship. Mainly, we don't have one. You are, by far, the greediest, most self-absorbed human being I have ever met besides Eve Aries and I hope you I never see you again after this night."
"But we've been seeing each other for months!" he told.
"Months? Lavar, this is the third time you've taken me out, anywhere. Second, actually, since the first time we just met at that fundraiser for dad's university. You asked me out to dinner, and I agreed because I thought you were nice. But that dinner was anything but nice. The constant insults and the putdowns to the staff, the way you flashed your money in front of everyone, and not to mention they way you made the valet cried. I tried to explain it then, but you didn't take the hint then and you aren't taking it now. And after that, you kept popping up everywhere, leaving me expensive gifts, even though I explained four times that I was uncomfortable with it. And then I have to hear from my father and my friends' parents how you're bragging about having me as "your girl". You don't treat me like a woman, you treat me like a pet you don't even own."
"Lydia, be reasonable," Lavar started, trying to get some advantage, "you took all those gifts. The jewels, the furs, the clothes, the perfumes." "And you know what I did with them? I donated them to charity."
Something inside him snapped. The diamonds, the rubies, the expensive perfumes order straight from places whose names he couldn't pronounce, the Alaskan furs, the Chanel brand clothing, they were now in the possession of some dirty vagabound. Lavar's eyes began to twitch and he tried to talk this calmly through before he made a scene. "You... gave away... everything? Do you... have any idea... how much. They. Cost?"
"I. Don't. Care."
Lavar's brain just seemed to stop for a moment. Lydia sighed in frustration and got up from the table. She walked back to where Rocky was standing.
"Are you okay?" he asked. She looked up at him and smiled. "You have no idea how good that felt." Rocky smiled back. He was glad she told that creep off. "Listen, do you have a phone I can use? I want to call a cab." "Oh hey, you don't have to do that. My break's coming up in a while, I could drive you, if that's okay, I mean." He said, still blushing, and heart beating frantically. Lydia seemed to beam. "That sounds great."
The heavenly choir that was singing in Rocky's mind just hit a sour note when he saw Lavar, fuming, and walking up to them. "Uh oh." "You better believe, uh oh!", he said to the two. Some people turned to look at the angry Lavar.
"How dare you embarrass me like that, you little tramp! After all the money I spent on you!" Lydia was about to say something when Rocky intercepted her. "The only one doing any embarrassing is you. Leave her alone."
"This is none of your business, 'Rocky'! Now stay out of it." "You make it my business when you harrass a beautiful woman who doesn't have to put up with your trash. Now apologize to her." he order him. Lavar gaped. "Me?! Apologize to her?! After what she just said to me?!" Over on the stage, Yera could notice what was going on, and she noticed thaht Jim was headed their way.
"Last I recalled, we had something in this country called freedom of speech. And everything she said about you was nothing more than the truth, the absolute truth, and nothing butthe truth." Rocky poked Lavar in the chest, who swatted his hand away.
"Keep your filthy hands off my suit. I have no idea where they've been and who they've been in."
Rocky's eyes snapped open, and he looked like he was about to punch Lavar, when Lydia came in between them and said, "Forget him. He isn't worth the lawsuit." Lydia glared at Lavar. "Go home, Lavar. I already told you, I never want to see you again. Bother me ever again and I'll go to the police." Lavar couldn't take it anymore. He raised his hand to slap her, until his arm was grabbed by Rocky and he was held against the wall.
"Get off me! Do you know who I am?!" Okay, now people were looking at them. "I could care less." Rocky held onto Lavar's arm. He finally let him go. Lavar began to rub the sore spot on his arm. "Don't you ever put your hands on her like that again, you hear me?" "I didn't even touch-"
"DO. YOU. HEAR. ME?"
Lavar scowled. "You would choose him over me? A waiter?!" "He has more character in his pinky than you do in your whole body." Lydia said as she stood by Rocky. "Why you cheap-" Lavar was cut off when he was suddenly lifted into the air by the host, Jim.
"Sir, if you can't act properly around a woman or around the club staff then you'll have to leave." Jim grabbed Lavar by his collar and held him up to his face. "Now."
"Get off me, you filthy Jew!" The people around them gasped. Jim was blinking rapidly. Lydia looked disgusted, and Rocky was now about to kill him. "Okay, that's it you-"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO MY LOVER, YOU WORM?!"
Everyone in the club abruptly stopped doing what they were doing and turned to the stage. Yera, the singer, was holding the microphone stand the same way a nun would hold a ruler in front of a misbehaving child in Sunday school. She was giving Lavar a death glare, so was Rocky, and so were Jim and Lydia. Suddenly, a spotlight had been placed on him. Lavar gulped.
Someone on the upper floor said "Ooooh, he gonna get it."
Seconds later, Lavar was tossed out of the restaurant on his butt.
"AND DON'T COME BACK!" Yera and Rocky screamed at him from the door. Yera was muttering some curses in Arabic as she walked back on stage and almost immediatley everyone started to clap and applaud her, and Rocky. Yera beamed and took a bow.
"Are you okay, Lydia?" Rocky asked her. "I'm fine. Thanks." Lydia kissed him on the cheek. "My knight in shining armor." Rocky blushed the reddest he ever did. He would never wash that cheek again.
...
"Cab you believe that? I have never been so humiliated in my life!" Lavar screamed at Kurt as he drove the exhausted millionaire back to his apartment. "Really, sir? What happened?"
"That witch, Lydia, standing me up over a busboy. A busboy! Can you believe it?"
Kurt thought for a minute, "Why no sir. Who would ever turn you over?" "Damn straight! And that sand jockey manhandling me, tossing me out. They should've tossed out that Jew host! Honestly! Soon those rats will be ruling the world." "We're here, sir." Kurt said as they pulled up to the front of the building. The doorman walked up and let Lavar out.
"Did you have a nice-" the doorman started, but Lavar said "DON'T YOU START WITH ME!!" The doorman looked aghast, wondering what his problem was. "Night sir." Kurt said. He drove the car around the car and parked it. Then, he unbuttoned his collar and took out a small Star-Of-David on a chain and grasped it tightly in his hands.
"Oh I'm going to enjoy this."
Lavar muttered to himself all the way up to his apartment. After he walked in, he noticed that all the lights were on. "Raye you lazy... RAYE! What is this?!" Lavar was walking down the hall yelling for Raye when he threw open the doors to the dark dining hall, "Raye where the hell are y-"
"Hello, Jack."
"W-what? Who's there? Who's in my home?!" Lavar screamed at the darkness. At that, the lights turned on, to reveal a woman withjet black hair and violently green eyes and emerald earrings sitting at the long dining table, sipping at a glass of brandy pilfered from his liquor cabinet. She was wearing a dark green evening gown, and had on a ring with a green jewel that looked like an eye.
"Who the hell are you?"
"My name is Kesh. Sarah Kesh. I work for an organization aimed at providing... relief for people willing to pay. My employer wanted to pass a message onto you. He says "no one steals from the McCauleys."
"Who?" Lavar asked. He was starting to lose his patience with this woman.
"The McCauleys. You remember. The man you stole from Jack." Sarah explained.
"My name is Lavar John Bolton, and you are messing with one of the most powerful men in this city you witch. I don't know any... McCauley..." Lavar trailed off as it hit him. "You finally remember?" Sarah asked. Indeed he did. The name of the man whose bank account had been cleaned out and put into his was Leland McCauleyIII. Lavar closed the doors behind him.
"What do you want from me?"
"It's not what I want. This is about what my employer wants. Leland McCauley IV. He's paid a very large cash amount for your life and I intend to make sure he gets his money's worth."
Lavar scoffed. "You? A woman? What can you do?"
Sarah smiled a cruel a twisted smile. Lavar wasn't worried, until he noticed the four other glasses at the table.
"What makes you think I came alone?" Sarah snapped her fingers, and the door behind Lavar burst open and he was suddenly in the grasp of a very large and muscular man whose appearance was as foul as his breath.
"My associate, Valentino." Sarah explained. "Oh, boys!" At her command, three other men came in. One was an Italian man wearing leather gloves, the second had on him a ski mask and was carrying an axe, and the third had prosthetic limbs on the left side of his body and a creepy looking blue eye, while the left side of his face was heavily scarred.
"Jack, I would like you to meet Mano, Cole, and Thaddeus. Mano and Cole handle the grunt work alongside Valentino, while Thaddeus is the information man. I am the go-to girl, meaning they go to where I tell them." Sarah explained while Lavar was squirming in Valentino's arms.
"You two!" she pointed to Mano and Cole. "Get to work." The two nodded in agreement and went off into other parts of the room, but Cole had been stopped by Thaddeus.
"I don't believe that", he pointed to Cole's axe, "will be necessary at the moment." Cole let out a sigh of disappointment and dropped the axe on the ground. After he left the room, Sarah said to Valentino, "bring him here and hold him down." Valentino grunted and slammed Lavar down onto the dinner table. "Let's get started."
"Let me go you brute! What do you want from me?!" Lavar screamed in futility as Sarah began to go through the liquor cabinet. Thaddeus took out a black file and began to read its contents aloud.
"Lavar John Bolton, born to Rosemarie and Quentin Bolton of the South Carolina Boltons. Your parents raised you in a crapwater town in Tennessee, yet you yourself have barely maintained any hint of a Southern lineage save for your bloodline. Probably because for the last eighty years the only type of cultural traits your family has maintained is leaving like derelicts and rats ever since the Civil War, and your great-grandparents squandered their money by funding Lee."
"How dare you talk about my family like that, you-!" Lavar was cut off by Valentino's sweaty hand over his mouth. Lavar thought he was going to puke from the stench of the behemoth. Thaddeus continued.
"In your early years you showed a great love of learning, yet you were also a very selfish child. The other boys and girls didn't want to play with you because you would horde whatever precious toys and candy you had for yourself. As you got older you started to understand your family's desperate financial situation, and you viewed that whatever hopes you had for a better education would be zilch to bupkiss. You have your old friends Sandy Anderson and Mikey Astor to thank for our intel. Now, onto when you became Jack."
Sarah set out some bottles on the table. She held up an aged wine with faded and cracked label.
"Ah, look at this collection. They stopped making this brand a century ago. Very rare."
She uncorked the bottle. "Valentino, keep him still." Valentino moved his hand from Lavar's mouth, who was gasping for air and continued to scream obscenities as the other two workers continued to do untold damage to Lavar's home. Sarah put a finger on Lavar's lips and made a calming noise, like when nursing a baby, before she shoved the bottle into his mouth and the contents were poured into his mouth.
"Drink up, baby! You need your strength."
"Where was I?" Thaddeus pondered. "Oh, yes. The first time you became the boy-thief, Jack B. Quick. During your teenage years you made quite a name of infamy by robbing some of the more influential homes of your town. What started out in a general store when you stole one single piece of candy became years of breaking and entering. What's surprising is that you never got caught. What's even more surprising is how you managed to clear out the bank accounts of two of the formerly richest men in the country without leaving a paper trail. While I thought it was suspicious, McCauley could care less how you did it. He just wants you dead. And with the money he's paying, I'm not complaining."
Thaddeus plucked out his left eye, which turned out to be glass. "I need replacement for this."
After she finished force-feeding him the contents of three bottles, Sarah let him get some air as he started coughing violently with wine and amaretto spread over his face.
"Is the baby full? Valentino...", Valentino at his boss. "Burp the baby."
At her command, Valentino started to shake Lavar like an infant, shaking up the contents of his stomach. The four left the room into Lavar's living room, which had been wrecked by Cole and Mano. After finally shaking up Lavarenough, Valentino released his hand from his mouth and Lavar quickly puked over his expensive rug and destroyed furniture. His portrait was wet and dripping from a pot of coffee that was left from the kitchen. He groaned and Sarah leaned over to smell his breath.
"Ugh. He smells like my ex-husband. Yeah, this is pretty convincing."
"Pl-please", Lavar begged them, "w-whatever he's p-p-paying you I can double it. T-triple it! Name your price!"
The five laughed.
"Oh, Jackie-" "STOP CALLING ME THAT! MY NAME IS LAVAR!" Sarah slapped him. "Don't yell at a woman. It's bad manners. Now, as I was saying, Jackie, when we get an assignment, we carry it out to the very end. The. Very. End. You're money can't help in this. All the money in the world couldn't help you. Besides, you should be lucky McCauley hired us. If he went with the Black Glove, this would be going on for years. Those people like to play games with human lives."
"Those freaks are twisted." the Persuader. "You hear about what they did to John Mayhew?"
"And besides", Mano said for the first time, "pay us to stop what? You mean stop you from your drunken stupor, how you got rejected by some broad and so you downed almost every bottle in your house, wrecked it, and launched your guts out. Ain't that right, Kurt? Miss Tsan? Miss Raye?"
Kurt, Chi, and Raye walked out of the shadows. Kurt walked up to Lavar and said "Exactly right. You should have heard the way he was cursing on the way home, about how Jews and all the other undesirables are ruining this country."
After he was finished, Kurt spat in his face. Chi followed after him and slapped Lavar twice.
"You've had this coming for years. Treating us like slaves when we work our fingers to the bone making your home spotless. Making my family suffer with a pay that amounts to nothing."
Raye followed after her. She eyed him, then shoved the rag she had been washing the floor with in his face.
"There. Taste that? That's the rag you've made me clean with for the last three years. I hope you scream all the way down."
"W-what?"
"Yeah. And then after puking you stumble over to the window, toss a bottle through it thinking it's a mirror in your drunken stupor, and..." Mano trailed off.
"Splat!" finished Valentino, the first words he ever spoke. Cole walked over to the window overlooking the front of the building. He opened it, dropped an empty bottle out, then closed it again.
"No. Nononononon-", Lavar's voice was silenced by Valentino once again.
"There was one other thing I forgot to mention, Jack" Sarah finished. "The money's not really important. We do this because it's fun."
Valentino raised Lavar above his head. Lavar, kicking and screaming, had to watch as Valentino slowly walked over to the window. One could imagine the sound of a solemn elegy played on an organ.
"And now, it's time to say good-bye. We're glad to have offered you a fun-filled evening..." Sarah started. At that, Valentino heaved Lavar above his head, through the glass into the open air.
"Courtesy of the Fatal Five."
Lavar screamed all the way down, watching the windows of the other apartments pass him by as broken glass fell like rain and his life flashed before his eyes until...
"Oooh! That's going cost him some points on that landing." Thaddeus joked. They could hear a horn going off down below and people yelling out for help. "Well boys, our work is done. Let's call McCauley and let him know it's done. Cole, go get your axe. And as for you three..." Sarah turned to Kurt, Chi, and Raye. "I doubt you need any... persuading, to keep this incident quite." The three nodded. "You have nothing to worry about." Kurt said. "Good, because if not, we call Mano his name because he likes to work with his hands. Now, beat it!"
The three left. Sarah turned to Cole, who had returned with his axe.
"Good. Let's get going."
As the five left through the servants elevator, Sarah asked, "Cole why are you wearing that ridiculous mask?" "Oh, I had to leave from this costume party my kid went to. That reminds me, I gotta take her out tomorrow night for trick-r'-treating." The other four went, "Aww."
"How is little Elise?" Thaddeus asked. "Growing like a weed." "And Ingrid? How's she doing?" Sarah asked. "Good." "Ah, tell her I said hello?"
"So I saw that Frankenstein movie last night." Mano said. "Really, how was it?" Sarah asked. "Scared the hell out of me." They all laughed.
...
Finally, Lavar started to stir.
"Oh, my head..."
He didn't know where he was, but it was dark. He looked up, and saw a light. He felt a tapping at his shoulder. He turned around, and there was Old Rattle Bones. The Grim Reaper himself.
"Oh God, I'm dead." The Reaper nodded. "WOO-HOO! Now I get an eternity of pleasure. Out of my way, bone-head!" Lavarshoved past the Reaper and ran up to the light. After a few seconds, the Reaper sighed, and said "Finally!" She took off her skull mask and the robe to reveal a petite girl with black hair, a pale face, and black make-up on. "This costume itches."
Lavarlooked up at the heavenly sight. He heard choirs of angels and... jazz music? He had just reach the front gates of "Club Eden." It looked like a tropical resort. There was a man with neatly combed white hair sitting at a desk in front of the golden gates, writing something in a big, leather bound book. Lavar walked up to him, and the man said "Name?"
"What?" Lavar asked. "Your name. What's your name son?" "Oh, of course. Lavar Bolton." The man at the desk started to comb through the book. "Nope. Not in here."
"What? Than try Lavar John Bolton." Lavar was confused and worried. What was going on?
"Nope. Sorry. No Lavar John Bolton. No Boltons at all for that matter. Oh, wait! I have a Michael Bolton, hmm, but he's not due for another century. So, if you could just move along."
Lavarwas shoved aside by two women who had cases of drinks with them. The man at the front nodded at them. "Evening Mary, Martha." "Evening, Pete", they said together as they walked in.
"Look everyone! Martha Washington and Mary Todd Lincoln brought the tequila!" "HOORAY!!"
Lavar couldn't believe this. As his stomach started to turn at the thought of drinks, he realized there was one man he had to talk to about this mix-up. Hoping off the cloud, Lavar started to fall back into the darkness, into it became hot. Very hot. Soon, he landed below, in front of the flaming gates of "Club Dis." Above the door was a saying "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter. No Solicitors."
There was a woman with black wavy hair and two horns sitting at the welcome desk, decorated with more Halloween decorations, at the gates. There was a long line in front of her, made up of men, women, and even children, surprisingly
"Name?" "Barry." "Barry what?" "Jus' Barry. My pa sold our last name." "I see and your qualifications?" "Shot and killed a man." "Is that it?" "Shot him through his wife's face." "Kinky! Come on in. You report to the Room with the old man being pecked at by crows is nailed to the door. Enjoy!"
The man with the noose around his neck walked through the flaming doors, and almost immediately he said "Hey! Lloyd! Small world, huh?"
Lavarwalked up the woman at the front desk and pounded on the book. She looked up with a secretarial gaze in her eyes. "Sir, are you aware there is line? You're going to have to wait your turn for eternal damnation same as everyone else. Or you can just fume here and not get in."
A man who had a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his forehead cried "you mean we have a choice?!" The shrapnel man started to run into the void when the woman at the desk said "Beel! Zaz! We got a runner!" A fly-like demon and one who could only be described as a flaming mass of eyes and mouths ran after him.
"Listen, I demand to speak to Mr. Trapper immediately! That trickster has some damn good explaining to do!" The secretary muttered, "He sure does. I've been waiting five hundred years for that vacation." She sighed and started to leaf through the book, "okay your name is...?" Lavar replied "Bolton. Lavar John Bolton"
"Okay, Lavar John..." the woman trailed off when she noticed the transparent red mark over Lavar's name. "Oh crap. One minute please. Lucy!" the woman yelled into the club. "Get the Boss Man! We got a special case over here!" The woman looked back at Lavar. "I swear you freaks are always coming out at Halloween."
"There a problem, Stiletta?"
Lavar looked up and there was Trapper, looking exactly the same as he did all those years ago.
"You lying fiend!" Lavar screamed at him.
"Why hello, Jackie. So lovely to see you again." Trapper replied. "You said I was gonna get into heaven and they wouldn't let me into the front door!" At that moment everyone else in the line, including Stiletta and some of the people inside, started laughing as if Lavar had just told the world's funniest joke. Trapper raised his hand and the laughter was cut off. Then he lowered it and they started laughing again. Then raised it again, then down, then up again for good.
"Sorry. I just love doing that." Trapper explained. "Now, you having second thoughts about our deal? A little bit late for that, don't you think?"
Lavar told, or better yet yelled at Trapper "When I let you out of that tree you said I wouldn't be allowed in here." "And you're not, you couldn't get in here if you tried." "Then why can't I get into heaven?" Trapper chuckled, "My dear boy. I never once mentioned heaven." "But, but you said there would be only one place for me to go!" "And why did you think I was talking about heaven?"
Lavar was exasperated. "But if I'm not allowed in here and I'm not allowed up there, where am I supposed to go?!"
"My guess is back where you came from."
Lavar couldn't believe what he had heard. How could he go back there? He was dead. Did that mean-?
"That's right, Lavar. You're now stuck in that broken down shell of a body for the rest of eternity." Trapper said. "I would just like to say that this is my favorite part of these moments. When they get that look on their face when they realize just what they've gotten themselves into."
"You... you...", Lavar was at a loss for words. "Do you realize what you've done to me?!"
"Oh, don't go blaming me Jackie. I may have pitched the deal, but it was your own greed that let you hear me calling out that night. And it was your own greed that's been driving you for the last few years. Tell me, have you even been truly happy? At all? You had no friends, no loved ones, and no chance at intimacy withanyone. You think it's money that makes the world go round. Well, I got news for you. It doesn't. Compassion, hope, love, the will to live, these are what make the world go round. Not material possessions. I'm the one people have to deal with when their diving head first into the more hyped elements. Fear, anger, and greed. I'm the other side of the mirror. Most people see me, they think I enjoy this. Truth is, I do. Because it means I'm doing my job. This place isn't just about pain. It's about rehabilitation. People come in, spend a few thousand years getting flailed and ripped apart, until they get the message they didn't get the first time around. It's like summer school. It may take a little longer on some of the others, and for most there is no chance for what they've done in life, but few can understand that. That other place you go to when people kill themselves is like that, just less painful and more boring. Oh, and you can't go there either. But tell me? Did you ever consider what you might have gained if you turned me down? Now you have no home to go to anymore. No more ties or connections. You've been expelled from joining society, Lavar. And now you have to wander the living for the rest of eternity until time ends. And then that's when things are going to get fun."
Lavar couldn't believe this. He was getting lectured on morals by Satan himself. Lavar's eyes darkened and he stared at the Prince of Darkness.
"I'm going to kill you. It may take centuries but I will find a way to destroy you for what you've done to me."
"Better men than you have tried. But, hey, I feel bad for you. So, here." Trapper took the jack-o'-lantern on Stiletta's desk and handed it to him. "Use this to light your way back, Jack. I'd stick around but I have to go see what's going on with this next world war. Oh, those Germans. Crack me up every time." Trapper chuckled as he walked back inside.
Lavar stared at the mad grinning face of the orange pumpkin. "A-hem." Lavar turned to Stitletta. She was tapping her red and black nails on the desk. "You heard the man. Beat it, Jack!"
Lavar solemnly turned around and started walking off. One of the damned in the line yelled, "Look! A jack-o'-lantern for a jackass!" They roared with laughter as Lavar just kept on walking, clutching that pumpkin to his chest as he tread through the primordial darkness.
...
He awoke in a fright in a cold and dark room. He placed a hand to his forehead, where he felt something rough and scratchy. He got up from the board that he was lying down on and stumbled around in the darkness. There was something about this place, the smell, it was nauseauting. Antiseptic and roses and decay, like a sterile flower shop filled with dead plants. He reached around in the dark, and bumped his knee on the sharp corner of a table. Something fell over and broke on the floor. He couldn't see what the contents were, but it just added to the stench. He gagged and covered his mouth, until finally he found the light switch. Once the light came on, Lavar stared in disbelief.
A morgue. He was in a morgue. There were bodies on slabs, stitched up and dissected. Jars filled with embalming fluid and organs extracted from the fleshy shells inside the metal containers. Lavar's knees turned to jelly and gave way. He shook his head and denied that this could be happening. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out, not even a gasp. He looked down at the puddle of fromaldehyde, and he saw a very loose reflection in the gangreen liquid. His eyes bugged out, his jaw dropped. No. That couldn't be right, could it? He got up and stumbled over into a bathroom adjcent to the room.
He saw his reflection. His reflection. He wanted to moan, but he couldn't. There was a big black stitch going over his throat. His whole body was covered in them. Ugly, black stitches. And his face, dear God, his face, what the fall did to it. He barely recognized himself. His nose had been scrunched up, one of his eyes had been pushed too far out of his socket and he couldn't blink with it. The other one was missing. His jaw was crooked and made a creaking noise everytime he opened it. Part of his scalp had been ripped clean off, and was covered by a piece of leather that had been stitched to cover it. He was hideous, a nightmare out of H.P. Lovecraft. Not even. He was dead. He's alive again. He had to get out of there before someone found him.
He looked around in the death room, and pulled off a long white coat and a surgicical mask from a rack. Looking for something to cover his head, he stole a hat that most probably belonged to the coroner. He needed to find a way out, and made his way to the stairs that connected the morgue to the upper hospital. He wanted to run, but he couldn't let anyone notice his presence. Holding the coat closed, Lavar snuck past the orderlies and the nurses who were on duty that night. When he passed the main desk, something caught his eye. A jack-o'-lantern. The same jack-o'-lantern that Trapper had given him to light his way back. Something in him compelled him to take, and he did.
Finally running out of the hospital, clutching that hollow pumpkin with all his life, Lavar inwardly moaned as he stumbled forward into a alleyway across from the medical building. A car abrutply stopped in front of him and the driver angrily honked their horn and yelled obscenities at him. Lavar could only shield his face, but the driver caught sight of his bare body and became sick. They sped away, not turning back, and Lavar went back on his way.
He slouched down on the filthy ground in the alley, filled with old trash and puddles of stagnant water. Some vagrants had walked past him, and gave him strange stares. He looked up at them, and they hurried along on their way. Lavar hung his head low, and turned the jack-o'-lantern to face him. He stared at the orange face with the yellow eyes and fanged teeth carved in the flesh, and Lavar did his best to moan. This was what he was reduced to. Not even the poor wretches would associate with him.
Lavar John Bolton. The man who gave in to have everything he wanted, now had nothing, save for a hollow gourd. And this is the way it would be for the rest of his life.
...
Halloween day. Rocky and Lydia were walking in the park. The autumn sun high in the sky, casting down on the multitude of leaves that were littering the ground. There were little kids running around in their costumes, all ready for the night's festivities.
"So, you're sure you okay from last night?" Rocky asked. "That's like the fifth time you've asked me that and I keep telling you I'm fine." She laughed as she said that. "I know, I just..." he trailed off.
"What?"
Rocky sighed. "I know we just met a few weeks ago, and we don't know each other that well, but, I have the night off and there's this party at the club and this may sound kind of last minute, but, I was wondering, if, if..."
Lydia leaned in closer to hear what he was going to say.
"But-I-was-wondering-if-you-would-like-to-go-with-me-tonight" he finally finished. Lydia blinked at him. Then, she smiled and said "come here, you." and pulled him down towards her. The two kissed right then and there.
It felt incredible. Amazing.
They were walking together, side by side and hands entwined. Lydia eased her head on Rocky's shoulder, and he sighed.
Lydia Jefferson and Rocky Krane. Lovebirds.
Ah, L'Amour.
Compassion, hope, love, the will to live. These are the things that make the world go round. Without these things, there would be no life. Pity the poor fool who has none of these things, and pray that someday he might learn about them, 'lest they spend eternity in fear and anger.
Happy Halloween.
Next: The Mirror
"So, if you're greedy, you turn into a zombie hobo?" "...yes."