The moon was ashen in the sky, beaming its dull white light onto the dreary night below. The bustling of people. The sound of footsteps. Cars honking, commotion. Humans. So many humans.
An imp where he shouldn't be.
Blitzo clutched the grimoire to his chest, hiding out inside a dingy alleyway, covered in refuse and dirt. The light of the city couldn't get to it. It had been abandoned even by the humans who built it. He was leaning against the brick wall, his eyes wide and his breath eluding him. A gasp, another gasp. Thoughts racing through his head.
Two bipedal forms passed the front of the alleyway, blocking out the only source of light to it. They were oblivious, faintly speaking about the mundanity of everyday life. Blitzo scurried away, hugging the book for dear life, fear chiseled into his face. The forms looked in his direction for a couple of seconds, then returned to their robotic routines.
A fire escape ladder. Maybe he could use that. He jumped up, gripping the rusty rungs, trying to nestle the grimoire in the crook of his arms. It failed, the grimoire dropping to the ground with a loud thud. The imp jumped down to get it, but didn't let go of the ladder with one of his hands, dragging the rungs down and extending the fire escape with a loud creak. It stopped abruptly, and just like the grimoire, so too did Blitzo fall to the ground.
Whispers. Commotion. The forms looked back into the alleyway. Blitzo grabbed the cursed book, moving to his feet, sprinting as fast as he could, tail swinging behind him. His foot hit the pavement angled wrong and his ankle rolled. He stumbled to the ground, gritting his teeth. "FUCK!" He moved to stand up again, but the pain shot through his foot and leg and he fell back down. "Aaaghhh…! Shit… shit shit…!" The footsteps grew louder, crunching against the litter of the alleyway.
"Yoooo… yoooo!" The humans had faces. Names. Living, breathing. Both of them looked young for their species. Their clothes wouldn't be uncommon in Hell, one of them wearing what looked like formal white tie attire. "Dude, holy fuck, ahahah…"
Blitzo backed up against a wall, pressing up as much as he could against it, staring the humans down. "Get away… get away, you fucks!"
The other human threw his hands up, almost to block the words, but was clearly trying to calm the imp down. If he had eyes, it was hard to tell, his hair covering them. A cape was flowing behind him. "Hey, hey, chiiill. We're just 'miring your costume, that's all."
"..." The bald boss blinked. "What?"
"Yeah, dude! You've got a sick makeup job! You alright, though? You look like you rolled your ankle real bad there."
The imp grimaced, looking down at his leg. He immediately attempted to put weight back on his rolled ankle, but the pain forced a loud yelp outta him. "Ah! F-fuck… yeah, yeah, it's… it's bad."
The eyeless human looked over towards his friend. "Hey, catch up with the group, I'll help this guy out."
"…ya wanna bring him, dude?"
"Shit, dude, we can't just leave him here! Besides, look at his costume, he's meant for a Halloween party!"
Blitzo let out a shaky, soft exhale. Halloween. Of course. The Harvest Moon always seemed to coincide with it. The other human, a meathead plastered in green makeup and with bolts coming out of his neck, shrugged. "Alright, man, but if he's weird, it's on ya." He walked away and the wild-haired human leaned down.
Blitzo glanced side to side, letting out a nervous smile. "Eheh… uh…"
The human offered his hand. "Yo, what's your name, man?"
The imp grabbed the hand, getting pulled up, hopping on one foot and using the brick wall to support himself. "Uhhh… Blitz. The O is silent."
The fancy-dressed man let out a hearty laugh. There were fangs in his mouth, hastily glued in. "Maan, you're worse than some of my friends! I'm Vincent." He opened one of his arms up, cape flowing behind him. "No silent letters! Some people call me Vince though."
Blitzo leaned into the arm, and the human in turn used it to support the imp's weight. "Hey, uh… get that book down there, will ya?"
"Oh." He stepped down for a moment, grabbing the book by the spine, shaking the dirt off, and tucking it into his arm. "Neat book! You'll have to show me when we get to the party."
"Uh… heh, yeah, maybe…"
"Unless it's your diaaaary." The taller human practically wiggled that last word out.
"The fuck- no!"
Vincent let out a snort, then a laugh. "No shame in it! Look, I keep one too…" They slowly made their way, one man walking, the other man hopping and hobbling. "Dude, you need better boots if you're gonna be running down alleyways."
Blitzo grunted out in frustration. "Tell me about it!"
"Like, yo, those things don't have any support."
"That's what I said!"
Both of them had a hearty laugh, wandering out into the street. Jack o' Lanterns on the porches, kids in various costumes stepping around, letting out joyous screams and giggles. One had a similar costume to Vincent's, and he and another human in turn did some ritualistic movement involving moving their forearms to their mouths and going 'bluh'. He tried his best with the book under his arm.
The imp spoke up after a moment, eyeing the house they were moving towards. A large crowd, blasting music. Metal kegs on the lawn being taken in. "So, uh… Vince… what are ya dressed up as?"
He laughed, lifting his head up to reveal his eyes, red and slitted, a product of costume contacts. "Ya serious?"
"Errr… y-yeah?"
"How do you not know who Dracula is?"
Blitzo started sweating a bit. "Uhhhh… I'm an… immigrant?"
Vincent lifted his head up a bit. "Aaahh… okay, that makes sense. Your English's pretty good! Sounds local." He let out a chuckle, playing with the fake medal wrapped around his neck. "Yeah, I'm Count Dracula! He's a vampire, he sucks people's blood, got little fangs and stuff. It's an absolutely adorable costume! A little stuffy, though, I mean, fuuuck, Bela Lugosi really went all-out with the suit and everything." He looked over to Blitzo. "Bela Lugosi, you know Bela L- no you wouldn't know Bela Lugosi."
The conversation faded away as they walked down the street, lit by the white moon. Small talk. Nerding out about movies, Vincent trying to explain his tastes. The words 'is that booze', a point to the kegs, and a reply in the affirmative.
Moxxie and Millie sitting at home, under the glow of a red moon, wondering why Blitzo hasn't hired them back yet.
