A Very Spoooky Halloween
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This is the chapter in which Squee gets a ride home from the Antichrist's mother, gets attacked by a vicious dustbunny and is once again subjected to the disappointing reality of his parents.
Chapter 2: Pre-Show Jitters
"Nithe cothtume, Thquee," a skoolkid sneered at him through plastic fangs. Other kids giggled cruelly with him. "It lookth jutht like the one you were wearing latht year."
It was now the 31st of October, Halloween, and all the kids in his class were dressed up for this special day. There were fairies, werewolves and all other sorts of things, ghoulish or not. There was even a kid dressed up as a Styrofoam cell phone sitting uncomfortably at his desk; the costume didn't let him bend his knees too well and he was constantly accidentally setting off a ring. Some kids threw him out the window when they got tired of the sound. Pepito was frowning dressed in his normal clothes glaring at the kids who had jeering at Squee. Squee, dressed up in his annual Dracula outfit, was giving worried glances to his desk and Pepito.
It was sad that Squee's only friend was the Antichrist. Actually, he was Squee's self-proclaimed friend. Pepito, much like Johnny, scared the crap out of him. At first he had had a different friend. This other kid's name was Andy and he had stuck up for him once. Of course, all future friendship was lost when an evil little dog dragged Andy back to his doghouse and ate him alive.
Pepito dressed in black clothing and had a lock hanging around his neck. His hair was black and grew naturally as a Mohawk. His eyes were purple and red, his skin was sickly green and he had small horns growing out of his forehead. With all those devilish characteristics to him, Squee wasn't sure why nobody in his class believed that Pepito was the son of Satan. The wicked child had admitted it himself on his first day. But then again more than half of the kids in the whole couldn't recite the alphabet, so it wasn't like they were exceptionally bright. As for the teachers, they just didn't care or were just as stupid as their pupils.
Their decrepit, vulture-like teacher at the front of the classroom snarled as the bell sounded to begin class. She straightened up, her spine making cracking sounds as she did and pressed a button on her desk. A big hole opened under a particularly noisy student and the child and the entire desk fell through. The class went silent.
"Class, today you will deliver your essays about this doomed holiday," the teacher said. Her eyes scanned the room for a victim. "Pepito, you go first. Begin now!"
Pepito got up and walked to the front of the classroom and faced the other kids. His paper appeared in his hands in a burst of demonic fire. A kid muttered 'showoff' in the back of the classroom. The Antichrist ignored that.
"The history of Halloween is very marred and twisted, and its truth is hidden," Pepito began. "The fact that it falls on many a religious day is purely coincidental and only disguises its sinister nature. On this day, the barrier between Hell and the mortal world becomes thin, allowing for cursed creatures to pass through. In the past nothing much was done. A few demons escaped and wrecked some havoc, lit a few fires, poisoned a few people, but never anything that served a point. These demons only sought easy entertainment. Today Father sends out a few more educated demons to prepare the world for the End by weakening certain spots and creating new diversions to distract people from any noticeable deterioration. In the past we would have wrecked havoc, but times change and we must devise new ways of breeding destruction. We like letting loose ideas for reality shows and ridiculous TV shows on this night. Also, we make deals with confused cults who wish to align themselves to our side.
"You wouldn't believe the amount of confused teenagers who decide to make sacrifices in our name on this night. As if we really need them. However, they are a great source of entertainment. I suppose that many of you are doomed to form part of these cults, seeking answers from a power that doesn't care. And there are such un-doomed few amon—"
"Where's your costume?" a kid yelled from the back of the class.
The devil boy's eyes glowed red and he trembled with indignation, eventually ripping his paper in half and burning it with the evil, green energy that made his hands glow.
"You will be SILENT!" shouted Pepito and promptly melted that kid's face off with his super Antichrist powers.
The class was loud and chaotic until most of the kids were burned, fried, crispy or unconscious. The kids littered across the classroom moaned in pain and wept for their mommies. The teacher stirred from the catatonic state she had gone into during Pepito's presentation, but remained uncaring of the damage done to her pupils and her classroom.
"Excellent reference to the doom of mankind, Pepito," the teacher said. "You get an A."
"Thank you, Ma'am," he said and went to sit down next to Squee, the only kid who hadn't suffered. Well, he hadn't suffered physically. Squee was sitting bug-eyed and choking on the plastic fangs he sucked in in terror during Pepito's little rampage.
They sat quietly (except for the other kids' moaning and Squee's choking) while the teacher hissed on about their education was worthless and how they were all going to work in staple factories until the bell rang.
"Class dismissed."
--
Squee started walking home with a cold weight in his stomach. He kept thinking about how Johnny had offered to go with him for his trick-or-treating rounds last night. He wondered if he would survive to see November.
A creamy white car stopped next to him with a screech. Squee squeed and fell on his bottom, getting dirt on his already worn and grubby cape. Even though the car's color was pale, its windows were dark, smoky and menacing. The car window slowly rolled down and the face of a woman popped out.
"Todd Casil!" she said happily. "How nice to see you again."
Squee smiled nervously. This was Mrs. Diablo. Her hair was curly and blonde and her eyes were squinty and shiny from all her joy. A cross dangled from her neck; she was a good Christian woman. In fact, she was one of the nicest people Squee knew, a real human being amongst simians, a diamond amongst rhinestones. Her whole being gave out vibes of goodness and compassion. She was the wife of Satan and the mother of the Antichrist.
"Hi," Squee said meekly.
"Would you like a ride home?" she asked kindly.
One of the car's doors opened and some smoke and soft Christian tunes came out. Squee could see Pepito sitting in the car with a cute little dog with floppy ears and sharp teeth next to him. Pepito cracked a smile at him before he returned to his usual gloomy demeanor.
"Well?"
Squee didn't get a chance to answer because he immediately found himself in the car. He wasn't sure whether he had been pulled in by Pepito or climbed in himself. All he knew was that it was hellishly warm in the car. He would have felt more uncomfortable if Pepito's mother wasn't there.
"I'm so glad you agreed, Todd" she said before starting the car and smiled at him. "Such a nice boy."
They had ridden in silence for a few minutes with no talking. It would have been silence, but Mrs. Diablo was humming to her music and Pepito's dog kept coughing up sparks. Squee noted that last one with a wide-eyed stare.
"It's such a pity you can't trick-or-treat with Pepito tonight," Mrs. Diablo said.
"Oh." Squee was glad was that, but was curious why. In July, Pepito had invited him over to his house for fireworks and hamburgers. Squee's parents left him there three hours earlier than planned, but the Diablos were happy to have him. He had played a good while in the Antichrist's room, which was full of all the toys a child could desire. Squee found very unsettling how many of the toys made muffled noises that sounded like pleas. Pepito muttered something about souls and showed him his videogame console. The hamburgers and hot dogs he ate there tasted strange and the barbecue itself smelled like sulphur. The fireworks had been very nice and exploded in bright bursts of fire. "Why can't he?"
"Father usually has business to attend to on Halloween and makes me help. I said so in class. I hate it, but Mother and I can't convince him otherwise."
"A boy his age should be able to trick-or-treat," she sniffed. "Honestly, Pepito, I tried to get him to let you out, but your Father can be so stubborn sometimes."
"Yes, Mother," her son replied. "It would be nice if you came with me to assist Father, amigo."
Squee briefly considered what would be better: trick-or-treating with Johnny or helping Satan with whatever spooky things he did. …Crud.
"Um… no?" he said.
"Oh." Pepito seemed disappointed, but shook it off quite soon.
"This is Woofles. She's my dog," he said pointing at the little dog. It gave an adorable, high-pitched yap and coughed up a bright orange flame. "Want to pet her?"
"This is your house, right?" Pepito's mom said as she stopped in front of house #779. Squee found it depressing that he'd have to leave a perfect mother to go back to his.
"Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Diablo."
Pepito grabbed Squee's arm. His eyes had a sinister red glow. He said in a deep, demonic voice, "Are you sure you don't want to join Father's army of darkness? We have a dental plan."
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Okay then," Pepito said, his eyes going back to their not-so-normal normal colors. "Bye!"
As the two Diablos rode back home, Mrs. Diablo said, "He's such a nice boy. We should give him more rides home."
--
Squee was hiding under his bed with Shmee held close to his chest. He was nestled between some notebooks, his first-aid reserve and a large lump of dust that showed signs of consciousness. He was hoping that Johnny would forget what he had suggested yesterday. And if he did remember, he hoped that the space under the bed would serve as a good hiding place.
Squee, let go. I can't breathe and you're spreading out my stuffing unevenly, Shmee gasped in the boy's vice-like grasp.
Squee didn't relent and started squeezing harder. "I don't want the scary neighbour man to go with me. I'd like it better if we went alone."
At least we know you're in your right mind. That Johnny is a bad man. Best hope he doesn't go berserk and try to cut you into Squee jerky. Squee whimpered. Sorry. Can you ease up on the grip?
He muttered an apology and tried to ease his nerves. "It's okay, Shmee. I know you're only trying to warn me."
I can protect you, Shmee said. If he takes you, you can take some of my stuffing with you like you do for school sometimes.
That was a good idea. Squee immediately extracted some of the bear's cottony insides and put it in his pocket. "Thanks."
He froze when he heard the sound of bony knuckles rapping on glass. Squee held his breath.
Shh! He's at the window.
"We're gonna die," he choked out and resumed squashing his bear.
Shhhhh!
"We're gonna die and we're gonna have to live in Satan's basement and be made into soul toast. I don't want to be soul toast!"
Not if I can help it, so quiet, Shmee hissed.
The tapping persisted for a while and suddenly stopped. Squee was about to ask Shmee if he went away when the smash of newly broken glass rang through the room. The little boy whimpered as he heard the sound of steel-tipped boots stepping on broken glass. He could see the boots pass by through a little gap beneath the bed. Squee wriggled back until his back was pressed against the wall.
Be very, very quiet, Shmee whispered. Outside the homicidal maniac hesitated for a second when Shmee spoke and looked around. The bear went quiet and waited until Johnny continued searching before speaking again. And pay no attention to the sentient dust bunny trying to eat your legs.
"D-dust bunny?" Squee stuttered.
Against his better judgment, he looked around. An extremely large ball of grey dust with ears, sharp buckteeth and terrifying yellow eyes was breathing heavily behind him. The dust bunny gave a loud screech and snapped at the boy. Squee shrieked and dove out of the way, but the dust bunny sank its claws into his cape. He tried to scrabble away, but the beast was pulling him back.
Johnny's gloved hand came in, grabbed the terrified child's wrist and yanked him out. The dust bunny gave a final screech and let go of the boy and retreated to the dark safety of under the bed.
"Sorry about the window," Johnny said. "Ready to go?"
Avoiding the killer was impossible now and slumped his shoulders in resignation. "Let me get my candy bucket. Can you wait at the front door?"
Johnny nodded happily, apologized for the window he broke once more and climbed out of it. Squee could hear him rush over the grass towards the front of the house.
Squee went into the kitchen where his mother was currently dissolving pills in her orange juice. She turned around and looked at her son. Her eyes were glassy and didn't really see anything; she was doped again. She tilted her head, trying to remember who he was, and then walked out of the room with an indifferent shrug.
Squee sighed and got his festively orange candy bucket from the counter top and considered hiding under the sink instead of meeting Johnny. But maybe there were mutant spiders something under there or something like that.
Ding dong!
The doorbell rang. Before his father could yell, Squee rushed to the front door.
Ding dong ding dong ding ding dong ding!
Gulping, he grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. Johnny was waiting out there pressing the doorbell continuously for fun. He stopped and looked down at Squee, smiling with juvenile excitement and looking sane and relatively harmless. He looked almost childlike in his seeming innocence, like someone trustworthy. Squee smiled back.
"Mom! Dad! I'm going out for spookyday candy!"
"Make yourself useful and bring back some milk."
"Have fun in college, honey."
Squee winced and looked up at Johnny. His blissful expression had given way to dangerously narrowed eyes and a frown almost breaking into a snarl.
The little boy quickly closed the door behind him to protect his unloving family. "Let's go."
End Chapter 2
I fixed a spelling mistake. Should be alright now.
--Exit