DISCLAIMER: I've written this purely for my own and my readers' entertainment. I make no money whatsoever and I don't own anything (apart from the plot and my student debts, and you're more than welcome to take the latter if you so wish).
CHAPTER 7: A THRILLER NIGHT
By Rumrum
Introduction
While it's true I don't generally celebrate Hallowe'en, it is equally true that I put my principles aside for the three years I was at Uni in order to attend their fabbydoo Hallowe'en party. Then, during summer 2012, when I was staying at gaia caecilia's, we began brainstorming and this little plot-bunny hopped up just aching to be written into a more flowing form. I also think that Thriller and its video are some of the best out there, so this is also in dedication of that. I hope you enjoy...
(Set about sixty years after the end of 'She...')
XXX
Night creatures calling, the dead start to walk in their masquerade,
There's no escaping the jaws of the alien this time,
(They're open wide),
This is the end of your life.
They're out to get you, there's demons closing in on every side... (*1)
Ginny faded out as two masculine hands made their way on to her stomach, forestalling both the movement of her hips and the more mundane task of hanging dresses.
"What are you singing that old song for, my little wood-nymph?" enquired Adindel in a voice that half bemused and half amused.
"I'm not really sure," said Ginny, as she leant back against the solid chest of her mate. "Just popped into my head; it'll was always a favourite of mine."
"Hmmm, it is a classic, I'll give you that... now are you going to put down your dresses and stop taunting your poor, deprived husband with all those hip-swings or am I going to have to rely on force?"
Ginny's immediate, conscious response was:
"Deprived? Adindel, may I-"
Adindel had to rely upon force.
At least initially.
XXX
Ginny, Ellie, and Charlotte were sitting in their favourite tree chatting, when Ginny piped up with:
"Do you remember Hallowe'en nights at The Venue? They were always rather cool, weren't they?"
"The only time we ever went clubbing at Uni," put in Ellie with a wry grin. "Only time I've ever fainted either..." Ginny just glared at her. The fainting had been the result of dehydration, as Ellie had forgotten to drink in favour of several hours of dancing, and she had never been allowed to live it down.
"It was the only time you two went clubbing," added Charlotte. Two snorts followed that statement. Charlotte had definitely lived her University life to the full and utterly justified the average view of students more than once.
"Yes, dear, that was what I meant." Charlotte poked her tongue out in response.
"Dancing along to the 'Time Warp' and all those cheesy 80s and 90s tunes, which never failed to fill up school disco dance-floors," said Ginny. Two cynical snorts followed their friend's faraway tones. "For some reason," Ginny continued idly, "I've had 'Thriller' stuck in my head for a while now – can't think why."
"Well, I believe Hallowe'en is coming up. Maybe it's your subconscious haunting you?" Charlotte commented with a grin, saying the last two words in her attempt at a creepy voice while wiggling her fingers as if to indicate spookiness.
"Maybe."
All three lapsed into silence, allowing the voices of the trees to seep into their minds. Eventually, Ellie noticed that her petite friend had relaxed totally against the tree and had a feral look in her eyes. Somehow the little smile tugging at her lips was a far scarier prospect than an outright manic grin. Ellie was almost afraid to ask.
"Erm, Ginny?"
"Hmmm...?" As Ginny turned to look at her, Ellie silently contemplated running.
XXX
The small group of ellyn made their way deeper into the line of trees. The four adults were walking, while the single elfling, Amarchyl, was riding piggy-back upon his grandfather, Oropher. It wasn't that late, but it being autumn meant that a mist was already beginning to descend.
Thranduil, Adindel, and Legolas suddenly stopped, their elven senses tingling. Each was certain he had heard a sound that none had wanted to hear ever again: the unmistakeable click of a spider's pincers. Each instantly felt their hearts begin to race with the adrenaline rush of old. Oropher and Amarchyl, who had been dragging behind slightly whilst Oropher taught his youngest grandchild woodland herb-lore, caught up. The former king was slightly put-out when Thranduil tersely held up a hand in a command of 'silence!' Oropher, who was having none of that, spoke anyway:
"Would you mind, my son, enlightening me as to wha-"
"Quiet, Adar!" Thranduil hissed. "I thought I heard..."
"Heard what?"
"Spiders, Gaeradar," answered Legolas, "Giant spiders."
"Giant spiders? Never heard of such a thing."
"Some came with the Shadows and set up a colony in the Greenwood. We lost many brave Elves trying to keep them at bay."
"You... what? You allowed my realm... excuse me, Amarchyl." Oropher let the elfling down and waited until he was safely in the arms of his father before walking – with noticeably measured steps – up to Thranduil. He was about to speak when Thranduil cut across him:
"Honestly, Adar, now is... not... the..." Thranduil trailed off, his face draining of colour. The others turned. In the trees behind them, on a line direct with Oropher, was the silhouette of the biggest, hairiest spider any of them had ever seen. The affect was not helped by it being surrounded by mist, which was thickening with every passing moment.
Even Oropher didn't need telling twice, but took off with the others. Three of the group leapt lightly and easily into the trees. Adindel, however, being hampered by carrying his son, had to rely on the others for help. Once they were all safely in the trees, the adults went still, watching and waiting for the danger to pass. Amarchyl, on the other hand, had spotted something. Being so young, he had yet to master walking along anything other than the thickest of branches, but he managed to make his way up to what had caught his attention.
"Look at this, Ada!"
Adindel almost suffered a human heart-attack when he turned and saw his ten-year-old son gleefully holding what appeared to be a handful of spider's web. Instinct made the father leap up and begin to tear along the branch, but something – and for years afterward Adindel would always question what – made him slip, overbalance, and... fall. Fortunately, instinct this time made him grab for the first branch he could. The slender limb bowed slightly with his weight, but it held and Adindel was able to wrap his legs around it as well, so that he was hanging, face up, when the great spider finally crept into view.
XXX
Celeborn was also in these slightly creepy woods – not that the former Lord of Lorien would ever admit to such. He was, however, alone. Nevertheless, he kept on walking, drawn ever inwards by some unidentifiable and yet strangely familiar force. The autumnal mist was beginning to take hold when he noticed that the trees all seemed to be glowing a marsh-green colour. Unwilling but finding his curiosity peaked, Celeborn put out his long fingers. A slimy, sticky substance came off on to his fingertips. Hurriedly, Celeborn tried to shake it off (well, he wasn't going to ruin his robes, now was he?), but to predictably little effect. Then he noticed another faint glow, coming from the path ahead. Accordingly, he went after it and soon found himself in a clearing. All at once, Celeborn forgot his own dignity and simply stared, mouth sagging slightly, at the sight that confronted him:
Galadriel – a completely naked and glowing Galadriel – stood around the other side of a huge, black cauldron, which was hanging over a crackling fire. Her hair had been bound with wreaths of ivy and mistletoe. Her arms and neck were covered with thin strips of leather, all of which had little stone, wooden, and metal charms hanging from them. The cauldron itself was filled with some kind of glutinous, bubbling liquid and Galadriel had her arms held over it, a manic look in her unblinking eyes.
Suddenly, Galadriel raised her hands and face to the sky and began to chant:
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd,
Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin'd,
Harpier cries: 'tis time! 'tis time!
Galadriel began to dance around the cauldron, her arms and legs moving in a fast and complicated rhythm.
Round about the cauldron go,
In the poison'd entrails throw,
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one,
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!
Celeborn now noticed that Galadriel actually had a belt hung with pouches about her waist and from one of these she drew some glittering powder and threw it into the cauldron.
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Galadriel began to throw more and more things into the seething mass in front of her, all the while running and skipping in time with her fast tempo.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake,
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
As each item was added, the liquid would bubble and hiss and occasionally change colour, while the fire would jump and spark.
Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy; maw and gulf,
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew,
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe,
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab,
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
Celeborn was transfixed; he was too shocked to do anything other than stare.
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good. (*2)
As Galadriel said this, she tipped the contents of a pottery beaker into the cauldron, and then, as soon as the final word had been uttered, she froze, her face and hands once again turned up towards the moon.
The silence was only broken by the cawing of crows and a high, gleeful cackle, which reverberated throughout the trees. Had Celeborn not been so taken aback, he might have recognised the sound as one belonging to Ellie, but he was more concentrating on the fact that his wife could recite Shakespeare.
XXX
Fingon and his party of young Elves weren't having half as bad a time of it as their compatriots, although Fingon did have to question his wisdom in following a seven-foot, glowing, white sheet that occasionally said 'wooo' as it led them further and further into the woods. Not that they really needed to be led seeing as the path they were using was lit by strings of tiny, orange lights. The really strange thing about these lights, though, was that the holders had weirdly 'grinning' faces painted onto them.
The Elves eventually came to a large, round clearing somewhere in the centre of the woods. There was a table laden with drinks and finger-food at one end and yet more orange lights stuck in the branches and hollows of the trees around the outside. There were already others in the clearing, but they were dressed very strangely. Someone had a very ragged, black dress on, they also wore a pointed hat and carried a broom; someone else was dressed in a black, leather one-piece with boots and a half-mask in the shape of a cat; several more were dressed as assorted First Age horrors created by Morgoth, including a not-very-convincing Balrog and an equally unconvincing attempt at Thuringwethil, the legendary First Age vampiress. Many others had white faces and black eyes and were covered in what appeared to be life-threatening wounds, the blood staining their clothes.
These, err... people were all walking about slowly and silently, while the tall shape that had been leading Fingon and his little group stopped abruptly, turned, and threw off the sheet, revealing the tall, graceful figure of Glorfindel.
"Happy Hallowe'en!" he cried. Naturally, that statement was met with the blank looks of people who were utterly confused. A certain trio of Elves could find their voices, however.
"Hallowe'en?!" Thranduil, Legolas, and Adindel were all sounding rather indignant. They had also just arrived, having followed another orange-lit trail. Amarchyl, who was once again being carried upon his beloved grandfather's back just looked puzzled, as did said grandfather.
"Well, yes," said Glorfindel in a happy – one could almost say innocent – voice, "What else did you think it was?" He grinned across at – a fully-clothed – Galadriel. The Lady of Light merely smiled her most mystical smile and sat down gracefully upon a log. Celeborn scowled, still disturbed by his recent experience, and was about to speak when Amarchyl piped up:
"What's 'Hallowe'en', Ada?"
"That's a very good question, young one," answered Glorfindel. "One I think your cousin Ellie will be able to answer." Glorfindel now grinned at an elleth dressed in a kilt, a baggy, ripped shirt, and knee-high, tartan socks. She was armed with a massive, two-handed sword, and her hair had been back-combed into a tangled mess, which had somehow been made redder. To go with it she had whitened her skin and sported several fake, but very gory, wounds.
Ellie grinned manically at them and Adindel noticed that she'd also somehow managed to make her pupils red and slightly glowy. All the adult Sindar jumped as she darted towards her Knight and poked him in the side, laughing another evil cackle as he jumped away from her finger. Once she had finished tormenting Glorfindel, she turned back to Oropher and finally started explaining All Hallows Eve, using her best creepy tones. Needless to say, she managed to freak him out rather thoroughly. Amarchyl was, of course, utterly delighted and highly entertained.
XXX
It was later on in the evening and those in strange clothes had revealed themselves to be Charlotte, Miriel, Elladan, Elrohir, a variety of offspring, Fire-Elves, and even some of the Valar (Manwë had turned up part way through the party as a far more convincing Balrog, eliciting screams from all the Elves who remembered the fall of Gondolin). Everyone was milling about, quietly enjoying the food and drink, as well as the occasional strains of instruments.
Suddenly, the light music stopped and the sound of six, strange bongs filled the clearing, and then someone began to chant:
It's astounding,
Time is fleeting,
Madness takes its toll,
But listen closely,
Not for very much longer ,
I've got to keep control. (*3)
The middle of clearing had begun to fill with costumed Elves; they formed a group and all faced the same direction. Then, the beat changed to something much faster, with someone singing about doing the 'Time Warp', and they all began to move around in complete synchronisation, first jumping to the left, and then stepping to the right. The more conservative members of the audience were shocked by some of the lyrics and the 'moves' which seemed to be accompanying them, but the rest thoroughly enjoyed the impromptu performance. They even joined in dancing, especially after one or two Sindar got over their 'grievances'.
However, everything suddenly went dark and still, only to be lit by an eerie, pale glow that was just enough to eluminate some horribly deformed shapes between the trees. One of them, who was strange only due to their lack of height and wild hair began to sashay down the little slope into the clearing. She – the way of moving could only be indicative of such – was dressed in a very short red dress; a tight, red, long-sleeved, leather jerkin; and high-heeled, knee-length, black, leather boots. As she moved into the light, the elleth was identified as a manically grinning Ginny, and as she looked straight at her husband, her eyes got a somewhat evil gleam before she began to sing:
It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark,
Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart,
You try to scream, but terror takes the sound before you make it,
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes,
You're paralyzed... (*4)
Much of the crowd (those who didn't know the song and had no forewarning) did indeed seem paralysed, especially when the deformed shapes began to dance along, remarkably well all things considered. As the song went on, a variety of the forewarned Elves began to also dance along in what Celeborn realised was meant to look a bit like a flashmob. The ancient lord shook his head slightly and caught sight of the younger of his two companions from Earth still staring at Ginny.
Absently, the Sinda considered going across to engage Adindel in a mutual commiserating session about their wives. However, it then occurred to him that not only did he most definitely not want to share his recent trauma, but he also wanted to completely scour that memory from his mind. With this revelation, he went to retrieve a large glass of the vodka-like spirit that the Fire Elves seemed to favour. Celeborn turned back to the party just in time to see Adindel landing on the ground as Ginny pounced on him and howled loudly. The ex-Lord of Lorien shuddered slightly, he definitely needed more drink.
XXX
Adindel screwed up his eyes against the light and snuggled into the covers. He was very grateful to feel Ginny's warm body pressed up against his own; grateful because it meant that whatever had happened last night hadn't. No, he was safely tucked up in bed and not even his wife need know of his strange dream. But even as he thought that and the last vestiges of reverie began to clear from his mind, he began to realise, with a sinking feeling, that whatever he was lying on was far too hard to be his bed. Plus, his bed didn't have grass in it.
Taking a deep breath, Adindel opened his eyes. He saw trees... and sky... and also realised Ginny was not dressed in one of her slinky, satin nightdresses, but in her interpretation of Michael Jackson's outfit from that famous video. Mind you, her current outfit was more... no, stop it, Adindel! ... he might be perfectly happy to make love to his wife in many different places, but right in public view was not one of them. At least Ginny had sorted out her hair and Adindel soothed himself by using the old standby of carding his fingers through the red-gold waves.
Adindel was soon drawn out of comforting himself with his wife by the familiar pitter-patter of a certain elfling.
"Ada! Ada!" Amarchyl's excited voice carried very easily. In an effort to quieten his exuberant offspring, Adindel jumped to his feet (making sure his cloak was tucked back around Ginny) and caught the small, dark-blond figure as he barrelled into the clearing.
"Quiet, Amarchyl, everyone's still in reverie!" he scolded.
"But, Ada, I want to show you something. Please!"
"Very well, but keep your voice down." And Adindel allowed himself to be pulled into the trees.
They walked for quite some time and Adindel was on the verge of telling his son off for wandering much too far when he was jerked downwards.
"Now, you must be very quiet, Ada, because he might be asleep," Amarchyl whispered solemnly.
"Who might be asleep?"
"My new friend. He's very nice; he let me stroke him."
"Did he now?" answered the now thoroughly amused father.
"He's just through here."
Adindel took one step into a little hollow and stopped absolutely dead. Curled up on the mossy floor was a massive spider, undoubtedly the one from the previous evening. Adindel was so transfixed by what he was seeing that he missed Amarchyl starting down the slope.
"Isn't he nice, Ada?"
Adindel gaped at his son, who was even now stroking one of the spider's great forelegs and the spider seemed to be, for want of a better description, enjoying it. This had to be a trick, surely. No giant spider would ever... but Adindel's senses couldn't detect any malice, none whatsoever. But a spider was a spider.
"Amarchyl," Adindel managed to croak out, "Get back here now. I've seen your 'friend', now let's go."
"But, Ada, I wanted to ask you something."
"Err, can't it wait?"
"No, Ada, it can't!" Amarchyl's tone was scarily like Ginny's when she was being stubborn.
"What is it, then?" said Adindel weakly.
"Can I keep him as a pet?"
THE END?
And though you fight to stay alive,
Your body starts to shiver,
For no immortal can resist,
The evil of the Thriller... (*5)
XXX
(*1/*4/ *5) Lyrics from Michael Jackson's Thriller.
(*2) The Three Witches; Act IV, Scene I from William Shakespeare's Macbeth.
(*3) Lyrics from Richard O'Brien's Time Warp.
