Could only get this part out for today's occasion. Yeah, short update.

If you should know, things have been complicated. Dealing with bugs, handling the next half of the semester, and other stories. It's just there hasn't been much drive to do this. And I'm trying to organize a lot.

Chapter 3

Lenora Hills, California

"Would you call these melons?" Ronnie asked as he held up two ball-sized pumpkins in his hands… to the two children in front of him.

Only for them to stare at him blankly.

"I was just thinking. You know how they are round. Not like oranges. You know like melons. Watermelons. Something better in describing them like…"

"What are you doing?" the mother approaching them, looking to Ronny, who was holding the two melons close…

Ronny noticed this…

"Oh, uh…" the deputy quickly setting the pumpkins. "Nothing, Tess. Just getting an outlook for a… literal description…"

Nearby…

"So, you're saying it was late at night when you heard something?" Hopper asked the elderly man in overalls as they strolled near the cornfield.

"Yeah," Farmer Floyd said. "It was two in the morning when I heard something fell with a crash in the barn."

"You think he was in the barn?"

"I don't think, we knew he was. By the time my boy and I got down, the barn's door was swinging open… and that bastard started dashing like roadrunner into the field." The white-haired man rubbed his head. "Timmy and I nearly threw our backs when we saw him. I can't think of what the kids had felt when they may have seen him from their windows."

"And this guy…" Hopper asked. "Did you get a good look at him? Was it the same guy who…?"

"It was too dark," Floyd clacked his lips with regret. "This wasn't like the other guy Tess had seen the other night. This guy… I can say he was about… less tall than you." He gestured to the cop. "And the way he ran. Oh, boy, he ran like hell."

"Obviously, because his ass was busted," Hopper snorted.

"Yeah, well," Floyd shrugged. "We get that some hobos will pass by and try the barn once in a while. But this… the way this guy hid and ran… much like he was running from the Gestapo."

Hawkins High

"Okay, I'm not saying just because I'm part of the team…" Lucas tried explaining as Max opened her locker and rummaged through her stuff. "You… as my… mad… rebel… girlfriend…"

"That as a girlfriend to the new cub…" Max glanced at him. "that I should submit to the draws of this… stereotypical society…" she raised her fingers for emphasis… "and become all love and dovey and turn into short-skirt cheerleaders?"

…

"Uh, well…" Lucas chuckled nervously. "I never really thought about that."

"Until now?" Max leaned against her locker.

"Well, you're using your legs with your skate," the redhead nodded. "But…" He chuckled nervously again. "They would go good… with those…"

"What?" Max blinked twice. "They go good with what?"

"Skirts…" Lucas blurted out. "Oh, man."

…

"I don't think I've ever seen that kind of sight."

"There are things called shorts that have been invented Lucas," Max stated.

"Well, yeah, but still…" the boy shifted in green-white Hawkins Tiger jacket. "I just think… well… you would look… good. I mean… cute. Cute in a… lovely way…"

"Dream on, stalker…" Max smiled while rolling her eyes. "I'd skate round the edges of Sattler Quarry than jiggling with a bunch of pristine-looking swans. Not like they'll expect every member to model after Hawkins High's King and Queen."

"C'mon, Mad Max," Lucas sighed. "That's too high a pedestal you're putting both Jason and Chrissy on."

"Oh, you're so sure?"

"How many times I have to say," Lucas waved his hands. "I wasn't so sure the first time, but he's good. Jason's cool. He can be serious… at times… but that's what makes him tough. And Chrissy… she's sweet. Totally."

"Well, sure, if you say so." Lucas opened his mouth to speak again… "But…" Max raised her hand. "Still not sure… especially with what I've been hearing…"

"Oh, come on, you're not into those crazy rumors," Lucas said. "It's because you've haven't at least talked to them. I mean just… hey…"

He noticed a familiar tape in Max's locker. Picking it up to inspect it with a smile. "This is the one I got you. Remember."

"Yeah, never forget Peter Cetera after it."

"Like a knight in shining armor…" Lucas reminisced while closing his eyes. "I'll be the hero. We'll live forever…"

"Okay, now you're messed up," Max said, causing Lucas to chuckle.

"It's the Glory of Love, Mad Max," Lucas said.

"Maybe, but it doesn't top Kate Bush."

"Really," Lucas said. "What is the number this time. "546?"

"Not much… just around… I don't care if it goes past 706."

"You're really so in love with that song?" Lucas playfully teased.

"You were the one who bought for me… with the last of your allowance," Max said, before putting her headphones. "It's beauty ahead of its time."

"Beauty ahead of its time… you know you really have a way with words. It's like this gift you have…"

"Wait…" Max stopped Lucas, keen on looking in one direction at something. Lucas noticed before turning to where she was looking down the hall.

"Is that…?"

They managed to see the girl making her way down the hall and exiting through the door.

"Nancy?" they both said.

"'Hal-lo-ween…'"

The teen opened the recent page of a Newsweek magazine to read it aloud in a deep-mocking tone, all the while sitting at the end of the lunch table in the busy cafeteria.

"'Trick… or… treat. Regarded as one of America's long-running traditional holidays where children all over would gather to dress up and bask sweets from neighbors… turns out to not be so innocent as many have thought. Recent incidents in the past years have caused both parents and psychologists to be concerned.

"'Studies and researchers have linked the spike of violent, psychopathic behavior to the holiday. Trick or Treat's activity to dress-up as heinous villains and monsters feed into the delusion of adapting their traits in broad daylight.

"The purpose of this study is to explain how Halloween promotes pagan worship, ritual sacrifice, stalking, mass chaos, paranoia… and… masked…"

The teen slammed the magazine down to reveal his face. That being of long messy brown hair in a wild mullet. Strong chin and brown eyes. And a wild grin…

…that belonged to that of Eddie Munson, leader of the Hellfire Club.

"MURDER!"

Songs referenced in here:

Glory of Love by Peter Cetera.

Running up that Hill by Kate Bush.

Happy Halloween.