SM.Net - harsh realities - by the r. enforcer

HARSH REALITIES
BY THE R. ENFORCER

(WRITER’S NOTE: If you’ve got the Cenobyte font, that’s nice…. As a matter of fact, send it my way. I sorta lost it.)

October 30th, 200X; The Morning of All Hallows’. 10:42 PM. It was the day before that certain holiday. Picky wandered through the halls of the library. Several strips of orange and black crepe paper had been hung, as well as dozens of cheesy Halloween decorations. There was only one reason he came here now, and it wasn’t for this ‘Haunted Library’ crud. He came because the library opened a special ‘Occult’ section during the Halloween season. And Picky loved the occult. He could find dictionaries, ancient bestiaries, or maybe even a spellbook. But those had always been hard to come by.

Picky continued wandering through the place, and he smelt a musty odor wafting through. He looked up, and saw a big black banner hung between two tall shelves. On it, was the word ‘Occult Section’ in orange lettering. He sighed in relief, and gazed at the two large shelves. Ancient books were stacked on the age-old surfaces. He tentatively reached up, grabbed a red-violet one, and pulled it down. Immediately, he was showered with dust, and the musty smell intensified. He quickly brushed the dust out of his hair, and looked at the book.

Funny, it was held shut with a golden crest with a keyhole in it.

‘No problem.’ He pulled out a six-inch long piece of thick copper wiring. He looked over the keyhole, and bent the end of the wire. He had learned this trick from Pokey. He stuck the wire in the keyhole, and wiggled it around. Within seconds, the lock popped open.

“Yes!” He quietly celebrated to himself, and opened the book. The pages were worn and ragged at the edges, as if it were centuries old. He smiled, closed the book, and opened to a random page. One page was covered in zodiac signs, astrological charts, and what looked to be a small map. Not very interesting, considering he wanted to try casting a spell. On the other page was exactly what he wanted; a spell. A nice one too. It read as follows:

CUNCTUS LAMIS EMERGO ET COMBIBO

CUNCTUS PRAECANTRIS EVIGILO ET TERREO

CUNCTUS HOMO-LUPIS APPAREO ET EPULO

CUNCTUS CORPORIS VIVO ET COMBURO

VADO ET ERADICO NATURA RERUM

FATUM SUM IUXTA

Now this was interesting; a long spell with its own page. He figured it was Latin, because he had seen words like these in animal dictionaries, where the classifications were. But still, he didn’t care that the grammar might be messed up. He didn’t know if it was a bad spell.

He didn’t know what it meant.

Picky held the open book in one hand, and, for effect, raised one arm to the heavens. He began to read.

“Cunctus lamis emergo et combibo...” Nothing happened.

“Cunctus praecantris evigilo et terreo...” Still nothing.

“Cunctus homo-lupis appareo et epulo...” He didn’t notice, but ominous, billowing clouds began to form over the small town of Onett.

“Cunctus corporis vivo et comburo...” He felt the ground shiver beneath his feet, and it began to pour. ‘Cool.’

“Vado et eradico natura rerum...” There was a flash of lightning, followed by a distant roll of thunder. ‘Wow! What timing...’

“Fatum sum iuxta!” He finished, raising his voice appropriately. Then, there was another flash of lightning, which was immediately followed by a vicious thunderclap. He dropped the book out of shock. But it didn’t land on the ground.

It floated above the ground for a second, closed itself, and darted back into the shelf Picky had taken it from.

This frightened him. It scared him so much that he started to run away. He ran out of the library and into the rain. He ran up on the path leading back to his house. He ran past the dogs and the snakes and the crows, all of them waterlogged. He ran past Ness’s house, not caring that his place was probably the safest place in town, and ran into his own house. Picky slammed the door behind him, and ran upstairs, into his bedroom, and dove under the bed. At last, a sanctuary from whatever he had just let loose from the book. But had he actually cast a spell? Perhaps it was just bad timing. No matter. He was safe now.

Nothing could get him under here.

Nothing.

----

Somewhere else in Eagleland, possibly Threed, two men sat in a jail building. One man was an officer who was temporarily watching guard. He was average in height, stocky, had jet-black hair, and was obviously relaxed. He was still wearing his full police uniform as he sat behind the guard’s desk. He laid back in the chair, and put his feet up on top. The lettering on the bottom side of his badge read ‘Harding.’ The other man was the prisoner. He wasn’t in prison stripes, but rather the suit he had come in, which looked very much like a business suit without a tie. His suit was entirely black, save the gray button-up he wore underneath the jacket. He had steel gray hair, and a slightly gaunt appearance. He was obviously not in a good mood. The prisoner sat on the bunk, staring out the barred window. He sat up a bit, looking toward Onett. How incredibly odd. Gloomy billowing clouds had begun to form over the little town.

Officer Harding looked up. “What’re you starin’ at?” He spoke with a light Jersey accent. He got up to take a closer look. His look of cockiness was then replaced by one of surprise. “Hey, where’d those storm clouds come from?”

“Don’t know. They appeared over that town just now. Rather ominous…” The prisoner spoke with a light British accent.

“Onett. A meteor crashed there a while ago. Caused a whole buncha crazy stuff to happen. Man. The poor kids. Halloween’s tomorrow night. If those clouds open up, it’s gonna rain fer days...” A distant roll of thunder sounded. Harding pursed his lips, shook his head, and went back to his seat at the desk. The man, tired of empty holidays, sighed, and lied back in his bunk. Both the temporary guard and the imprisoned mercenary had seen things like this before. And they were always, always a bad omen...

----

October 31st, 200X; All Hallows’ Eve. Halloween, 4:50 PM. It wasn’t yet dark outside, but kids all over Eagleland were preparing for the holiday. Save Jeff and Tony, that is. They had been intrepidly modifying Jeff’s old Bazooka so they could to use on trick-or-treaters. It would be loaded with cartridges instead of missiles, and it would shoot orange and black confetti and streamers instead of projectile explosives. It was like a large party popper. Jeff wiped his brow with a towel, but then discovered that it was a grease rag. He disgustedly threw it in a trashcan as both he and Tony ascended the staircase, and pulled a handkerchief out of a pants pocket.

“It’s a great idea, but let’s not use it on animals and children under six. We might get bitten, scratched, or slapped around by somebody’s mom.” Tony rummaged through his pockets.

“Not a bad thought...” Jeff muttered under his breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand to see if he had any grease left on his face.

“I’m gonna need to get some supplies at the general store. Got any cash on you?” Tony pulled his pockets out of his pants, and shrugged slightly. Jeff looked at him disapprovingly, took $40 from his pocket, and put in Tony’s waiting hand. “Thanks bud. I’ll be right back.” Tony sped up, and headed for the front door.

Jeff headed for the staircase leading to the dorm, but then he heard Tony cry, no, scream… “Holy c#@&!!! Jeff, c’mere!” Jeff dashed back downstairs and to the front door.

Tony stood in the middle of the hallway, his mouth hanging open. Jeff felt a cold draft blow into his face. Somebody must be doing an experiment in the snow.

“What is it?” Jeff asked. Then he came up behind Tony, and the front door fell into his line of sight. Actually, it wasn’t very much a front door anymore. One of the swinging doors had been ripped right off its hinges, and the other had been demolished into splinters. Beyond that, the iron gate guarding the entrance had been mangled and torn. Jeff paused, and his mouth fell open.

“What did-“ Before Jeff could finish asking his question, a bloodcurdling scream ripped from the upper floor. Jeff and Tony didn’t say a word; instead they bolted for the staircase to the upper floor. Once there, they knew exactly where the scream had come from, because one of the doors had been pulverized in the same fashion that the front doors had been. It was Maxwell’s lab. Tony peered inside, only to fall down and scramble back on his hands and rump.

“WOLF!!!” he screamed. Jeff quickly looked inside the lab, and saw that Maxwell was standing in a corner, holding a wooden chair up for defense. Jeff also saw that there was a wolf in there, with its snout buried in some bloody mass. Could that have been Max’s lab partner? The mess of meat was shredded too much to tell. Jeff looked closer at the wolf. It was a large wolf. A very large wolf that stood around 7’6”, and had the arms, hands, and torso of a human and the head and hindquarters of a wolf.

‘Waitaminute… Is that a werewolf?!’ Jeff put a foot inside the lab, but the wolf looked up and snarled. Its snout was dripping with blood and laden with fragments of flesh, and the eyes were completely white. Jeff quickly stepped back out of the lab, and the wolf continued eating its dinner. Jeff analyzed the room. The lab table was still up, but most of the beakers had been tipped over or shattered. But he was still able to find something useful. There were other elements lying about. A stool, some books, a fire extinguisher... He quickly formulated a plan.

Jeff dashed into the room, and grabbed the fire extinguisher. The wolf looked up, but it didn’t bark. It roared. It stood up on its hind legs to jump at Jeff, but Maxwell stepped forward, and smashed the chair over its back. The wolf lashed around, and swiped at Maxwell with a clawed hand. Maxwell ducked, and the wolf’s claw embedded itself into a wall. Max quickly dashed to the door, but the wolf got its claw out of the wall by then, and leapt at him. Luckily, Jeff had the extinguisher ready, and he smashed the wolf over the back with it, sending it back down to the ground. It didn’t have much of an effect, however, as the wolf began to get back to its feet. Jeff quickly grabbed a beaker from the table, and, as the wolf turned around, threw it at the wolf’s midsection. The beaker smashed against its chest, and the wolf howled in agony as the yellow liquid inside began to eat away at its torso. Everyone looked away. It fell to the ground, convulsing and howling, until its entire chest cavity had been eaten away. It could howl no more. It was certifiably dead. Tony peered back into the room, and looked at the mess.

Maxwell sniffled, and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “It just came in here and it began to eat Donald.” He looked at the lump of meat the wolf had been eating. It had indeed been his lab partner Donald, but you just couldn’t tell anymore. “I couldn’t do anything but stay in the corner, or it woulda gotten me too... Oh, God...” He ran his fingers through his hair.

Jeff stood up, and took off his glasses. He looked to Tony. “Do you think there are any more?”

“I don’t know...”

“…We should call the police and tell them about this.”

“Don’t bother.” Maxwell cut him off. He grabbed the phone the formerly sat on the lab table, and put the receiver to Jeff’s ear. “The phone lines went out around 10:45 last night. Surprised you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, man...” said Tony. “If there’re any more of these things out there, then they’re going to tear up those kids...”

Jeff suddenly recalled, and snapped his fingers. “Oh, it’s Halloween tonight!” He paused for a second, running multiple scenarios though his head. “I’m gonna gather some equipment, then I’m going to Dad’s lab. Tony, get the Heavy Bazooka, silver rods, anything that can kill a werewolf, and stay here to watch over the place. I need to get Ness.” He didn’t bother to correct himself as he often did about Dr. Andonuts being his ‘dad’, and he took no note of the two corpses on the ground. He had never seen anything so brutally powerful and vicious when he had been on the journey with his friends.

Was something terribly wrong?

----

Ness looked in the mirror, and adjusted his hunch. There was something wrong about how he looked, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it… Until King sauntered by. Then he had it. He grabbed some styling gel, and smeared it in his hair. There. The perfect Quasimodo look. He had the tattered clothes, the greasy hair, the funky eye, everything. It was a definite change of pace from the past few years of Halloween, where he dressed up as a baseball catcher, batter, coach, and ump, respectively. He hunched over, leaned to one side, and hobbled out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Quasi-Ness quickly began to hobble toward the direction of the staircase, but, seeing as how it was really limiting his speed, he broke into a slow jog.

“Ness! Don’t run in the house!” his mom called.

He slowed his pace, and called back, “I’m not running, Mom!”

“Then stop jogging!” she called back.

Instead of responding to that, he descended the staircase, and asked, “What time is it?”

Ness’ mom looked up from the bowl she was dumping the Halloween candy in, and looked at her watch. “It’s 6:24. You should get going, or all the good stuff’s going to be taken.”

Then there was a mighty thump and a yell of “OW!” from upstairs.

The mother pursed her lips. “Tracy! What happened?”

There was a pause, then a muffled yell from upstairs. “…I tripped over King!”

The mom looked back at Ness. “You better get going before Tracy’s friends get here, or they’ll tag along with you the whole night.”

“Thanks, mom.” Ness gave his mom a hug before he headed for the door. He opened it, but stopped before stepping out into the dusk. “Why do all of Tracy’s friends like me so much, anyway?”

His mom shrugged. “There’s no reason not to. And, after all, you did save the world from the Universal Cosmic Destroyer. It’s not something that happens every day.” Ness smiled, waved good-bye, and went off into the dark of Halloween night.

Ness was planning to meet Paula at the bike shop, but there was no reason he couldn’t get a few goodies along the way. He power-walked to the main part of Onett, but began to hobble as he passed the library. He walked from the library to the town hall.

Odd. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

There wasn’t even a sound that indicated any signs of life. No crickets. No owls. Nothing. He walked over to the Arcade, which was usually very festive at this time of year. Nothing there either.

It was like someone had just come through and scooped up everyone.

Ness shivered. He suddenly felt very alone. He also felt that this wasn’t good. Something just nagged at the back of his head, telling him that something was desperately wrong. He had to go get Paula. And Jeff. And Poo. That’s how bad it felt. It was beginning to wrench at his heart, filling him with a dreadful sense of hopelessness and insignificance that he hadn’t felt in his entire life. Even the weather reflected how he felt. The sky had been cold and bleak all day, looking as if the heavens were about to open up and start crying. It was only supposed to be sunset, not pitch black outside. Something was wrong. He reached into the back of his shirt and tore out the Quasimodo hump. Ness began to sprint south, towards Twoson, thought better of it, began to sprint for home to get equipped, and ripped off the latex-like gel that held the fake eye in. Now was not the time for playing.

----

“Are you ready up there? Ness’ll be coming around any minute!”

Paula sighed. “Almost, mom!” She then returned to rocking back and forth on her bed.

She shivered. Everything felt so cold.

It had started when the storm struck. It just appeared over Onett, swirling like a black mass of... It reminded her of Giygas. It just looked so evil. It looked so potentially evil that she didn’t want to go out. She didn’t want to see whatever demons that, that thing had brought with it. She knew it had to’ve brought something. Something that was frightening like that couldn’t have come alone, there had to be something more.

A crash shocked her out of her reverie. Was that coming from downstairs? She still didn’t like the idea of moving to find out.

Reluctantly, Paula slowly got off of her bed, and went downstairs. She was careful not to make a sound. The light in the downstairs bedroom was out, and the door leading to the preschool was open a crack, letting a little stream of light into the room. Another crash. She jumped a little. After collecting her nerves, she continued tip-toeing towards the door. A loud thump. What was that? She made it to the door, and looked through. A familiar musty, putrid scent wavered into her nostrils. She still couldn’t see what it was. So she opened the door a little more.

Someone, actually a few men telling by the stature, were aimlessly wandering about the classroom, occasionally bumping into desks and chairs. A vase and a lamp lie broken on the floor; they had probably bumped into the tables and knocked them down by accident. Two looked to be wearing Halloween costumes, one wore cheesy plastic knight’s armor, and the other wore a kind of black shroud. That costume reminded her of pictures of Death that she had seen. The only bits of skin she might’ve been able to see were the face and the hands, though the man’s sleeves were long, and he had a hood. The third one just had looked to throw together some old ratty clothes that hadn’t been worn in ages. They even had mildew stains on them. Funny. Her parents had never said anything about going as a knight, Death, or a zombie. Even if it was Halloween, they had no right to stumble around like the undead and break things. The zombie and the shrouded one had their backs turned to her. But the knight saw her, and gave an unearthly moan. The other two turned around.

Paula felt a very cold shock go down her spine and churn in her stomach.

All three of them seemed to have a distinct skin color. It was a putrid green that reminded her of the Urban Zombies she had seen in Threed. Bits of skin even seemed to be flaking off in some place. All of them had the same gaping mouth and blank stare. Well, at least the two that had eyes stared. The one with the ratty clothes, he made Paula shiver. Years of decomposition had claimed him, wrinkling and putrefying his flesh, making his skin as flaky as his ancient clothes. He had no eyes.

‘No.’

It couldn’t be.

It was like a monster movie.

‘Where’s mom and dad?’ The threesome approached her, arms outstretched, wanting to grasp her, hold her down, have her as their next meal. Paula slinked out from the doorway, into the preschool, and ran for the entrance, staying against the wall. She ran outside, into the bitingly-cold fresh air. She ran for a few seconds, then clenched her eyes shut and stopped herself. ‘No, wait, there’s probably a reason for this, it’s Halloween, they just have really good make-up. Yeah, that’s it…’ Feeling satisfied with the empty confirmation, she opened her eyes. The same cold shock that had gone down her spine and into her stomach went through again. Only it was much worse.

She frantically looked around. ‘No!’ It was getting worse and worse. She was surrounded by an army of them. An ill-dispersed army, but a large one nonetheless. They were just coming at her, because she seemed to be the only available target at the time. She began to walk, trying to look casual, but they continued following her…

All of them were normal people. They wore their designer pants, and logo shirts, and worn-out sneakers. They also wore a blank expression that could drain the life out of a person. All of them looked familiar, had been people she had known or talked to at one time or another. They seemed to be threats, but they weren’t the nameless opponents she and her friends had faced on their journey. These people had faces, had identities. They had been their own people. Until whatever had changed them happened. Now they wanted to… consume her…

Her heart rate jumped, and she felt like she was losing something. Where were her parents? Where was Ness? Wasn’t he supposed to come and pick her up? Why did it feel like the world was ending?

She felt something small clamp around her ankle. With a yelp and without looking, she quickly lifted her leg and brought her foot down on whatever had grabbed her. A sickening crunch greeted her ears. She clamped her eyes shut again, balling her fingers into tight fists. She didn’t want to see what it was. Stepping on one of those Gigantic Ants in that Dusty Dunes mine was harsh enough to see. But what had she just stepped on? ‘Look, you’ve got to look…’ After a few seconds of debating in place, which only allowed the other zombies to get closer, she resolved herself. Paula looked down to her feet, and opened her eyes.

‘Oh God no. Please no.’

A small white shirt and a small pair of faded denim shorts shone through the darkness. They were small enough to fit a five-year-older, presumably a little girl. The decomposing and flaky arms and legs just lay splayed around, like one last nervous signal rushed though her miniature body before she had crushed the child’s head.

What she had exactly done sunk in. She slowly lifted her foot, then fell backwards panicking and screaming. She had just killed a child. She backed up, passing a few zombies until she hit something, a fence, a side of a building, she didn’t care. She had just killed a child. What had happened to everyone? Was this some sick joke to torture her? Some ‘Oh sorry, it’s just a prank, you didn’t kill anybody’ joke, or was it for real? Was it a nightmare?

Was there a way to reverse all of this? If there was, had she just robbed a five-year-old kid of her life? She had just killed a child! It was ungodly. He mind raced. That feeling of loosing something grew… She began to cry. It was all she could do, other than curl up into a little ball and wish that the world would just go away. What was going on? There was a loud moan that startled her enough to wake up. They were getting closer. Paula thought about just letting them come, but then thought about what it would be like to be one of them. It was obvious that they were heartless, soulless monsters.

She didn’t want to be one of them.

She slowly but surely stood up, and began to run past all of the undead. There was something evil up north. She could feel it. Paula headed for Onett.

----

Back in Threed, the gray-haired mercenary slept quietly in his cell. He slept unrestfully, but he slept nonetheless, somehow managing to avoid dreams of past days and earned glory.

He was snapped awake by the sound of gunfire, and a crackle of a radio outside his cell. He looked over to Harding. There he stood, checking his gun, and looking very irritated.

“What was that?” The mercenary got off his bunk and approached the cell bars.

“Some higher-ups requested back-up. My guess’s that somethin’ came in here and began tearin’ the place up, and it’s somethin’ big.” Harding looked to him appraisingly. “You wanna get early parole?”

The mercenary was slightly thrown off. “…That’d be pleasant.”

Harding approached the cell door, took out his keys, and began to unlock the door. “Whatever this thing is, it’s killed a buncha people already, and it ain’t stoppin’ anytime soon. First, we go to the arms storage. Yer guns’re still in there.” The door swung open. “So Mr. Black, how’s it feel to be early released for draftin’ in the police force?” The both of them headed out of the jail area, and towards the armory, which was downstairs.

“…Feels like being drafted for the United States army.” The mercenary’s lips tightened.

“United States army? That some kinda cult? Didn’t know Greyson Black was a cult guy…” Harding smirked, thinking that he realized why the man had been imprisoned in the first place.

Greyson waved his hand. “Not a cult, an army.” He wanted to get off the subject. The sounds of more gunfire managed to distract the both of them. “Let’s go, don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

----

All that could be heard in the small back room of the Dalaam palace that no one dared to enter, save one prince, was the drip of condensed water falling from the ceiling.

Drip.

…Drip

Scream?

Poo awoke from a pleasant dream, startled by the earsplitting sound. He quickly sat up in his bedroll. Strange. Had someone hurt themselves? He began to listen more closely. There were other, quieter screams outside.

He stood up, and began to head towards the throne room. “…Master?” He looked around. No one was here. The distant sounds of crackling reached his ears, and a faint smell entered his nostrils.

…Smoke?

Poo picked up his pace, snatched the Sword of Kings out from behind his throne, strapped it to his sash-belt, and ran out of the castle.

‘…What is this?!’ His jaw slacked, and he slowly surveyed his land. Almost all of the buildings were engulfed in fire, and people were running about and screaming. He quickly learned the reason of their screaming. There were three girls chasing them about, they being somewhat well known in Dalaam. Poo found that he never had the time to learn their names. None of them were beyond their teenage years, so it was curious to why people ran from them. One of the more obvious reasons was that all three of them were flying. And throwing fireballs.

Poo was absolutely flabbergasted for a few seconds. Then he fought past it, and spoke up. “What is the meaning of this?!”

All three sisters stopped chasing their targets, and turned to face Poo. The Dalaamese they were chasing ran towards the palace, hoping that it would be a place of sanctuary. The three sisters dropped to the ground, and approached him.

“Prince Poo, we are merely redecorating your kingdom.” The one to his left, probably the youngest, spoke.

“Don’t you like it, Prince Poo? We’re doing it just for you.” The one in the middle threw her head back with a complacent smile.

“Everything’s so bright now. You can see for miles!” The sister to his right spread her arms wide, and gave a sinister grin. The other two then grinned the same way, and shot into the air again. Poo drew the Sword of Kings, knowing that something was quite wrong, to say the least. The middle sister raised her hands above her head, formed a fireball in between her palms, and hurled it at him. The other two raised up, and flew towards him like a pair of divebombers. Poo jumped to the left, avoiding the fireball, but not the girls. They tackled him down, sending him sprawling across the ground. By the time Poo scampered to his feet, the three sisters had converged, and were forming one mass fireball above their heads. Poo grimaced, and shut his eyes. He would not be able to dodge it.

A lightning bolt came streaking from behind the sisters, striking one of them down. The other two whipped around, only to be struck by two more lightning bolts. Poo opened his eyes, watching as the girls fell to the ground. A single form crossed the plain in front of the palace, approaching to where Poo kneeled. It took a few seconds for him to realize who it was.

“Master!” Poo stood up and ran towards his mentor.

He met Master midway, and Master waved his hands about. “No time for sentiments, Prince Poo!”

“What is it, Mas-”

Poo was cut off by his Master, who began to run down to the town, all the while putting out blazes with blasts of ice. “No time, no time! There is something evil afoot, as you can see.” He gestured towards some of the huts that were still on fire. “Your people are not this violent naturally. Some have turned into great wolf-beasts, others have become bloodthirsty creatures with long teeth, and some women have turned into being that I can only describe as sorceresses. Whatever this evil is, I can feel its power influencing some of their minds and bodies, even from a great distance.”

Poo tried to put out another fire. “Great dis-”

His Master cut him off again, pausing in his fire extinguishing and turning to look at Poo. “It is originating from Onett.”

“Onett?” Poo checked his outburst. They were interrupted by a fireball smashing into the ground by their feet. Looking to the source, they saw that the three sisters had revived themselves, and were none too happy.

Master stood in a defensive position, charging up a blast of ice. “Go, Poo! I want you to find the source of this evil, and destroy it!” The conscious sister hurled another fireball, and he shot the blast of ice after it. The two opposing forces collided, eliminating themselves out.

Poo finally drew the Sword of Kings from its sheath. “No. My people need me now.”

Master extended his hand, using Paralysis on the sisters. The airborne sisters fell to the ground again, but were already struggling to move. He turned to Poo. “Now is not the time for talking. The best thing you can do is to find whatever is turning these people against each other, and stop it. Go find Ness, he lives near the center of it.”

One of the sisters slowly lifted off the ground again, and Master assumed his defensive stance. “He will help you. Go now!” Another fireball flew at them, and the Master, quite agile for an old man, rolled to the side and avoided it.

Poo did not know what to do. On one hand, he had the obligations of a prince; stay here, defend his city in the clouds, and ensure his people’s safety. On the other, he could follow his Master’s orders, another obligatory duty, and go to Onett to destroy whatever was changing some of his people. Poo was forced to make up his mind in two seconds, as a lightning bolt careened his way. He broke off into the running set-up for Teleport, barely avoiding incineration like the ground he had previously been standing on.

After lifting off, he looked over his shoulder to the fading Dalaam. He was barely able to make out his Master, still standing up against the three demonic sisters. Once further away, all he could see was the fire engulfing his city.

----

The winter was biting cold. Spit in the wind and receive a small chunk of ice to the face. The air was cold enough to freeze saliva as it left your mouth. Cold enough to kill the usually-hardy evergreen trees.

Cold enough to freeze the joints of decomposed corpses and make them fall apart at their seams.

Jeff ground his teeth in the bitter cold. Life sucked sometimes. He bound over the dismembered torsos of zombified people, avoiding their snapping mouths, bound for Lake Tess. There was no blizzard, but it was still cold as hell. ‘Hah,’ Jeff thought to himself. ‘Cold as Hell. That’s an oxymoron. More like cold as the poles as tortuous as Hell.’

Another werewolf leapt out of the dying greenery. Jeff lifted his Heavy Bazooka, ignoring his shaky aim, and fired. The shell hit it dead in the stomach. It may not have been dead, but it would certainly be stunned for awhile.

The sight that met him upon coming to the Tessie Watchers’ Club encampment didn’t surprise him. It made him want him curl up in a ball and lie in a puddle of his own vomit. There were many corpses about, torn up just as badly or worse than poor Donald had been. He had never ever wanted to see a human being look like raw ground beef before. The mere thought of it had never even crossed his mind. It left a stain on his soul that would not come out if he tried burning it off.

But there was still a glimmer of hope. Amazingly enough, Tessie had surfaced long ago, and was fighting a small pack of werewolves, with major success. Two were already down. One leapt at him, and Tessie let him fly over her side. The wolf splashed into the water, and a tail came up to pull him under. The last one gave a menacing roar, and Tessie came down, snapping her jaws around it, then tossing its howling form into the woods with a snap of her neck. The threat was gone.

Jeff finally fought down his urge to collapse in a retching heap, and approached the bank. Tessie gazed at him appraisingly, knowing him as the boy that had been with that nice monkey not too long ago. She had not seen him in a long time. She wondered why.

“I… I need a ride…” Jeff wiped off his mouth with a sleeve. Without warning, Tess lowered her head onto the bank, like she comprehended where he needed to go. Jeff himself was slightly surprised. After a few seconds of silent contemplation and attempts to ignore the most disturbing mental imagery of his life, Jeff got on Tess’ neck, and made his way to her back. They were on their way.

A silent ride with a creature that probably didn’t understand what was going on didn’t make the ride easier. The silence allowed the thoughts he had been trying to destroy for the past few harrowing minutes to enter his mind. That itself didn’t make life easier. He needed, no, wanted to find Ness. To find Ness, he needed to go to Onett or one of the surrounding towns. To get there, he needed the Sky Runner. To get the Sky Runner, he needed to go to his father’s lab. And to get into his father’s lab, his father needed to be alive. Was he fine? Of course he was, the lab was constructed well. But so wasn’t that gate that a single being had wrenched apart. Could a pack of the beasts rip the walls of the lab apart? Maybe. But his dad was bound to have a few weapons lying around. But his dad wasn’t the best shot around. He kept chasing himself in circles like this for the better part of the journey. Near the end he began to wonder if this phenomenon was restricted to Winters, and if Ness or Paula or Poo were still alive. Luckily, he was about to become very distracted.

Tess growled. Bounding around the shore were werewolves. All of them looked like they wouldn’t mind trying out sea monster. Tess dunked her head underwater for a few seconds, raised up again, and sprayed the wolves with a powerful jet-stream of water they weren’t expecting. It had enough force behind it to knock them off their feet. Tess charged the shore, with poor Jeff trying to keep his balance for dear life, and picked up one of the wolves with her jaws. She snapped her head back, tossing it far into the water. Jeff was no man for physical stuff, but Tessie was about as close as she could get to the shore, and the werewolves were as distracted as they could be. He made a mighty leap, landing in a small snowdrift, and ran as fast as he could for the Rainy Circle caverns. He occasionally turned to shoot at whatever werewolf learned that fighting Tessie was a lost cause and decided to settle for an appetizer instead. They could run much faster than he could, but they were easily knocked off their feet with a Heavy Bazooka shell into the ground at their feet.

Making his way through the caves was easy. He just had to run, climb, and shoot. There were beasties in there, but they took their times with the intruding werewolves, which were a much larger threat than Jeff ever could be in his present state. He passed through the caves without scraping his knees, dropping an essential item, or getting disemboweled.

Stonehenge was easier. The Mighty Bear Sevens and Cave Boys became confused with Jeff’s run-through, but became enraged when the few werewolves following him showed up. It would be an epic battle, a bloody battle, something that would be in the local newspapers, if the deaths of so many people who hadn’t even had a chance to fight wasn’t such a headliner. It would be told around campfires for years to come…

Jeff did not look back beyond Stonehenge. He just kept running. The blizzard had begun, slowly enveloping everything in white; a godsend considering how much red he had seen within a two-hour period. He kept running until he saw the lab. His heart dropped as he got closer. There were noticeable dents on the sides.

He ran to the front. The door was wide open.

He stepped inside. There was blood everywhere.

He could currently hear the distant but loud sounds of someone eating messily. A blood trail led upstairs. He knew what had happened. Dr. Andonuts was most likely dead.

The urge to take vengeance crept up within Jeff, but he fought it down. Taking justice would serve no purpose, except in ending the life of a cold-blooded blood-lusting killer, or maybe ending his own. But he couldn’t do that. He might be able to stop whatever this was. He just needed more information…

He haltingly walked up to the Sky Runner mark II, opening the hangar doors as he walked by the switch panel. He opened its hatch door, and crawled inside, shutting the hatch behind him. With a few flips of switches, the Sky Runner was on. With a few more, it was going straight up. Jeff clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see what was going on in the second floor through the portholes. He ignored the roaring of fury outside. Once clear of the hangar, Jeff opened his teary eyes, and set the autopilot for a course to Onett. The onboard computer calculated that the flight would take seven minutes. He made perfectly sure everything was fine.

After a few seconds, Jeff Andonuts began to clutch at his head and scream.

The ride was 545 seconds of screaming.

----

“This is a fine mess you’ve gotten me into!” Greyson dove behind a kicked-over desk, double-barreled shotgun in hand. Harding quickly followed, diving behind the same desk.

“Like I knew! Nobody here’s ever seen a real vampire before!” Harding quickly began to reload his gun. “Screw the station. How ‘bout this; if we make it out alive, I give you early parole.”

“That sounds much better.” Greyson checked his shotgun, loaded in a few more shells, and snapped it shut. The station, as well as a good amount of the Threed police squad, was a lost cause. Most of the people were dead, dying, or slowly getting themselves trapped into a corner. Both Greyson and Harding understood the situation as the following; a pale-looking, scrawny guy had been brought in yesterday on suspected theft, and was locked up in a cell away from the wing of the jail Greyson was in. He had reportedly gotten very sick around 10:50 the day before, around the time the storm had settled over Onett. Around noon on the present day, he had reportedly been getting better, but, for some odd reason, he avoided the light from the barred window in his cell. Then, when night fell, he went nuts, reportedly growing fangs, ripping off his cell door, and biting the neck of one of the guards. They shot him a few times, but he didn’t stay down. Within ten minutes, the injured guard was up, and biting people’s necks. From then on, officers began dropping like flies, not necessarily from having their blood sucked out, but from bullet wounds and snapped necks. Apparently, when the monsters had their fill, they liked to kill people. Now, Greyson and Harding were trapped in the paper-pushers’ offices, getting shot at by three vampires, two in police uniforms and one in a Summers-resort button-up. The front door wasn’t too far off, but neither of them could tell what surprises waited for them outside.

Harding got to his feet, and scrambled over to another desk. He kicked it over, and hid behind it, occasionally peering out to shoot at whatever targets decided to make themselves available. Greyson peered over the desk he hid behind, and let off two shotgun blasts. One of the officers went down. He ducked back down and looked to his side as Harding screamed…

Somehow a vampire had latched onto him. It was draining him. Greyson brought up his shotgun as the mad hemophiliac released and snapped Harding’s neck with a quick twist.

Boom.

The vampire went down in a spray of crimson. Harding was gone. Greyson had no more obligations to worry about, and no promises to keep. He could just leave, but he would have to take down many a vampire on his way. He cocked his two-shot-per-load shotgun.

Showtime.

Greyson dove away from Harding’s body, facing his two remaining targets. He opened fire. The both of them went down in quick succession. He had learned that wooden stakes, holy water, garlic, crucifixes, and sunlight weren’t the only weapons against vampires. He cocked his shotgun again, and two empty shells dropped to the floor. The slapping of many pair of shoes was audible in the office area. Greyson looked around for a quick way out. There were two doors, one with a desk that would take a while to move, and the other being the source of what he wanted to get away from. One wall was lined with windows. He was still on the first floor. A single shot accompanied by the shattering of glass and cries of “There he is!” and “Kill him!” preceded the mad dive out of the police station. Gunshots followed shortly thereafter.

Greyson sprinted north. It looked to be the only viable reason. A big storm had popped up out of nowhere, and began raining sheets and spitting lightning over Onett for many hours before finally disappearing just as it had appeared. Unless this happened every Halloween here, and that wasn’t likely. If he wanted to stop this, which he usually did, people paid top dollar for his services after all, Onett was his only option.

And so Greyson Black ran for Onett, trying to be open to as many possibilities as he could think of in his current situation…

----

Ness didn’t like the look of anything when he got home. The lights were out, the windows were shattered, and the right wall had been completely sheered off and cast into the wooden area behind the house. Now he knew exactly why he had the fleeting urge to run home not so long ago.

“King? Tracy?! Mom?!?” He impulsively began to cry out, entering through the large hole in the side of his home. He looked around the living room frantically, thinking that someone might be hiding in a shadow somewhere. He didn’t look where he was going, and tripped over something. Whatever he tripped over whimpered. Ness snapped around to look.

He had just found King.

He lay on his side, a true mess. The poor dog had been torn apart and reduced to a bloody pile. What made it truly pathetic was that he was still alive. Ness began to cry. He kneeled, and began to slowly pat his dog behind his ears. The tail King had left wagged a little. Ness went down, and hugged King. King licked the side of Ness’ face, happy that his master was back, and that everything was going to be alright. Ness couldn’t concentrate enough to talk to his poor dog. But King didn’t care. He was happy just as long as he got to see Ness one last time before…

King growled softly, then faded.

Ness cried until he was sure he couldn’t cry anymore. A voice from behind him snapped him back into reality.

“It’s so sad, isn’t it?” Ness snapped around to see who it was. He had found his mother. Ness slowly stood up. Now he just had to find his voice.

“Mom, what happened?” It took him a few tries to finally get it out as one coherent sentence.

“Don’t worry, honey…” Mother dearest wrapped her arms around his neck.

Ness stopped his crying for a moment. The view over his mother’s shoulder allowed him to see the staircase. Somehow Tracy had gotten down the staircase without making a sound. She was soaking wet with something dark, and she was still wearing her normal clothes, not having the chance to put on her costume before Ness had left. The look on her face would’ve broken his heart, had it not been thrown into a meat grinder already. Her mouth hung open in a half-bawl-half-scream, and she was trembling with fright. Tracy slowly raised one arm, pointed to mom, and painfully mouthed the words…

That’s not mommy.

Their mother spoke up again, not knowing of Tracy’s presence far behind her. “I won’t do it again.”

‘What?’ What did that mean? Did she do this? Ness recoiled, pushing his mother away. It was at this point that he noticed her eyes were glowing blood red. She was smiling. “It’s not nice to push your mother!” She floated off the ground, opened her mouth, and screamed. The sheer force sent Ness flying out of the house. She floated out after him, intent on incurring her inscrutable wrath. Far behind was Tracy, who didn’t want to get involved in a fight between her brother and her mom.

She raised a hand, and made a fireball. “It’ll just get worse from here on…” She lobbed the mass of brimstone at him. Ness quickly scrambled to his feet and leapt out of the way. But his mom could think much faster than that. Ness suddenly levitated off his feet, raised some eight feet in the air, then smashed back down into the ground.

“A mother has to defend herself, after all…” Mother raised her hand again, this time forming a ball of electricity. Ness wobbly got to his feet, most likely not able to dodge this one. Tracy screamed, and shut her eyes.

A shotgun blast rang clear in the night. Mother cried out, clutched her leg, and glared at the source.

A gray-haired man in a business suit held the shotgun high with one arm, leveled at her head, and looking with steel blue eyes. “That, ma’am, was a warning shot. Next time, I’m make sure to-”

But Mother didn’t give him a chance to finish. She opened her mouth, and gave him a scream that blasted him into the wooden area in front of the mess that had been her house. With a cry of surprise, he was sent off his feet.

She smiled at a job well done. “Oh, son…” She turned around to finish what she had started…

…and received a plank of wood to the face. The smash whirled her around before she fell unconscious.

Above her unconscious body stood Ness, with a river of blood flowing down his nose. “You’re not my mom.” At least that’s what he would like to believe.

Greyson noisily broke back into the field, still holding his shotgun. “What an ungodly set of lungs…” Remembering his tact, he approached Ness, and extended a hand. “Greyson Black, at your service.”

Ness didn’t respond. He just stared down at his mother’s unconscious body. Tracy had slowly come from behind, and was also staring. The moon provided the only source of light. Greyson noticed that Tracy was caked in blood from her neck down. Anybody with that much blood lost would’ve been dead by now. Besides, it was Halloween. Probably just part of whatever costume she was going to wear. He did not notice the tears on their faces.

Ness sniffled, not daring to look up from his mother. “Do you…” He sniffled again. “Do you know what happened?”

“Not sure. Things got strange around the time that storm cloud appeared. I’d think it might have something to do with that meteor…” Not the time for introductions, he guessed.

Ness shook his head. “No. That can’t be it. We stopped it, and it was moved away from here.”

“Then what-the-bloody-hell…?” Greyson was cut off by the dull roar of a familiar engine. The Sky Runner came from a horizon hidden by trees, and descended next to a tree, miraculously spared by all the destruction of a minute before. The engine thrummed to a stop, and the hatch popped open. Greyson leveled his shotgun. Ness and Tracy didn’t even seem to care. Ness already knew who it was, anyways.

Jeff came out of the Sky Runner, and slowly went to stand by Ness’ side. His face was streaked with tears, and one of the lenses was slightly fractured. Greyson lowered his shotgun, and silence dominated for a while. Ness, Jeff, and Tracy stared at the unconscious form at their feet, and Greyson watched the three of them for any signs of activity. He wasn’t going to leave the three of them. After all, seeing another distraught kid come in something that resembled a stereotypical flying saucer must’ve meant he had some relevance to him…

Jeff broke the silence. “You look like Hell.”

After a few second, Ness answered. “You do too.” Tracy began to cry softly into Ness’ shirt.

Greyson stopped staring at the three, and looked towards the woods. He raised his shotgun, and fired off a round. There was a howl of pain, then the thumping sound of a heavy body hitting dirt. Ness and Jeff broke their gaze to look up to him.

Greyson shook his head. “Another damn werewolf… You hear that?” He cocked his shotgun, reloading the double-barrels with shells. “We’re being stalked. You know any good place we can barricade ourselves in?”

----

Paula threw books aside, madly searching for the demonic piece of literature that was the source of all that was happening. Hardcover, paperback, reference, fiction, romance, where, where, where could it be? She fought the overwhelming desire to have a good cry, and continued searching.

She had arrived at the Onett Library a half-hour beforehand. All she had to guide her in the place were the small candles lining the walls as decoration. She felt the darkness exuding from the place. There was something here that was so… so evil. As soon as she stepped in, she felt it slowly edging into her mind, trying to send her into a screaming fit of panic and near-insanity. There was something powerful here, yes there was. And she was going to stop it.

She wasn’t alone. Poo had arrived not to long after she had, obviously knowing what she knew, and helping with the search. Was he fighting the same mental fight she was? Was he trying to keep a true evil from creeping into his soul, or did his training in the art of ‘nothingness’ give him an edge? Whatever the case was, he was just as frantic as she was, hurling book after book, looking for whatever that damn key to their dilemma was…

She ignored the clatter, the stomping of feet, and the yell of ‘Get that bookcase over here!’ She could hear the roaring of wolves, the screeching of insane witch-women, and the hoots of vampires eagerly looking for a meal.

Greyson held fast to the door, trying to hold it shut enough so that no one could get inside. He was a strong man for his age, but he barely managed to hold the double-doors shut. Something powerful was coming after the blood of the two teens, single preteen, and single adult who had just stumbled into a library in an effort to barricade everything out. There were lots of them out there. It was like a badly-thought out monster movie. All the key monsters were there; vampires, werewolves, zombies, and witches. There were even damn cross-breeds; vampiric witches, decomposing werewolves, and unusually furry bloodsuckers. And they all seemed like they wanted to kill everyone that had made it to the library. Though it seemed to be horribly contrived, it had been executed very well. But he would not fold. He had never given up in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Ness and Jeff finally shoved the bookcase over to the doorway. Greyson held the door fast until he had to jump out of the way as the two tipped the bookcase over, creating an effective blockade, no matter how temporary.

Glass shattered, and a wave of psychokinetic energy greeted the werewolf that dare jump through the window. Greyson and Jeff looked out the same window and began to unload into the crowd of monstrosities as the beast was sent smashing into a wall. It was fried before it hit the floor. The monsters outside were too intelligent to try anything like that again.

Greyson and Jeff could deal with whatever was out there. Ness didn’t feel like dealing with any of the heroic shtick anymore, so he wasn’t going to. He heard the clattering of books in another room. Having nothing better to do than kill things, he looked to follow the source. Tracy didn’t trail far behind. After wandering for a few seconds, Ness and Tracy found the source of the clatter.

“Paula? What are you doing?” Ness didn’t seem to care anymore.

“I’m looking for it.” Paula raised her voice in between her incoherent muttering to answer his question.

“Looking for what?”

“For it.” She stopped to look at him, but only for a second. It was long enough for Ness to notice the trails of teary rivers that had been cried dry long ago. Then she continued looking.

“But what’s it?” Ness waited for an answer, then helped Paula back up after she keeled over and retched.

She shakily stood up, wiping the bits around her mouth off with the back of her hand. “IT. It’s causing this.”

Tracy clutched tightly at Ness’ leg, whimpering softly. Paula was going half-mad, looking for something that didn’t seem to have a name. It was scaring her. And she was feeling woozy, too. Ever since that strange man had come to her house and bit her, she’d been feeling tired. Mom had taken care of him, but she had scared her too. She had tried to run away, but Mom wouldn’t let her. At least not until Ness came. Tracy let go of Ness’ leg, and began to walk off.

Poo was still digging through the books. He had to think of nothingness, just nothingness. He couldn’t think of Dalaam, or of his Master, or of the darkness he felt closing in on him. It was pure evil, oh yes it was. And it was coming for them now. If he found the script that had brought it to being, he could end it. Maybe the book even had a counter of some kind. It had to be in here somewhere.

Something jumped onto his back, and clamped its jaws on his neck. He had not been paying attention to anything else except his book hunt. He struggled at whatever it was on him, grasping at it and trying to throw it off and resisting the urge to scream at having something plunge teeth into his neck. He could hear Ness screaming for his sister. Then the weight lifted off his neck as Greyson pried off whatever it was off of him. Poo turned to look, rubbing his neck slightly.

Greyson restrained a kicking and hissing Tracy by her shoulders. Blood dribbled down her chin. She had fangs. He furiously held on to the little girl, slowly taking her into another room of the library.

Ness stood rooted to the spot, not able to think coherent thoughts. ‘Oh my God oh my God Tracy’s one of them Tracy’s a monster just like mom why is she a monster how did they get to them how did this all happen it can’t be happening it can’t be happening this is all just a bad dream I just need to sit down and pinch myself and I’ll wake up yeah that’s it just sit down and wake up this isn’t happening this isn’t happening this isn’t…’

Greyson threw Tracy in the room, and slammed the door behind him, firmly latching it shut. Paula, Jeff, and Poo stopped what they were doing to listen. There were sounds of a struggle from inside. Greyson cried out, then gave out a yell of ‘Bloody!’

Then, there was a single gunshot.

There was silence afterward.

The door to that room opened, and Greyson slowly stepped out, looking slightly mussed and holding his revolver. He looked apologetically to Ness for a second before looking to the floor and manning the front door again. Ness began to cry. Not a loud, wailing cry; his mouth opened like he wanted to scream, but no sound refused to come out. Already glistening cheeks ran with tears again. Trembling violently, he walked into the room, to see Tracy one last time. Paula and Jeff followed.

She lay on the floor, looking up to the ceiling, as if she were trying to gaze at the stars. The sparkle was still in her eye. Had it not been for the very noticeable blemish in the center of her forehead, the three of them would’ve sworn she was still alive. Ness sat down next to her body, stared at her for a few seconds, then slowly drew the shell into and embrace, holding the back of her head to his stomach. He held her close, rocked back and forth, and began to cry.

True reality began to sink in. Cold swept into Paula’s and Jeff’s souls. Where were their parents? Were they dead? Alive? One of those things? Were the three of them in the library the only ones left?! It was too outrageous, someone still had to be alive! That just might’ve been someone else in the lab, maybe that Cave Boy who sold beef jerky, maybe that was it… And mommy and daddy could’ve ran from the preschool, right? They were in near perfect health, they could run. But where could they run to? Everything went too fast, the world was spinning, everything was being turned upside-down and was corroding them, the real them, away into oblivion…

There could be some vague, indiscreet chance that they could’ve stopped whatever this was, and return everything to normal. Well, as normal as things could be now. Last time it had just been the four of them. Last time people hadn’t died. The only people on Giygas’ hit list had been them, not everyone else. But now everyone else was gone; it was just the four of them, and the gray-haired man who refused to die without his guns blazing.

So this was what real pain was like.

Paula and Jeff sat down next to Ness, and began to cry just the same.

“Don’t look.” Greyson and Poo stood side-by-side, in front of the bookcase that was holding the front door shut. It was rocking wildly back and forth as the demons from outside hit again and again. Greyson looked to Poo for a second, before finishing…

“It’ll only make you want to break down, too.”

Poo stopped looking to the ajar door, tearing himself from the sounds of anguished sobs, and resolutely looked to the front door. He focused on the cracking of wood as the doors were slowly being broken from their hinges. He had to stop this evil. Or at least delay until someone else stopped it. Maybe Starmaster would come around, and find a way to purge the curse from those people trying to break in. Maybe he’d come just in time… And maybe he was thinking wishfully. He knew he would probably die. He steeled himself. Saved the universe one day, be murdered by its twisted inhabitants the next…

Greyson glared at the rattling bookshelf that held the doors shut. The mindframe that had made him famous in the mercenary business began to set in. Nothing else had tried the windows after that werewolf was fried, but they’d eventually make it through the doors. He would be waiting for them. Greyson would unload shells into them until none were left. And if there were some left when he ran out of shells, he’d use the revolver hidden in his sleeve. And if he ran out of bullets for that, he’d take out the cross knife hidden under one of his pants legs. And if the knife broke, he’d fight anyway. He’d rather not experience life as a rotting corpse or rabid man-eater or otherwise. So what if the kids were damaged goods? He’d hold his ground for them anyways. The first three had followed his idea of barricading themselves into a sturdy building. Like he knew an entire army of beasties was coming exclusively for them. It hadn’t been a good plan, anyways. So now all he could do was wait, fight, and hope that he would live long enough to watch the sunrise of the next day.

He felt something fall onto his foot. He looked down, and saw a book. It was a faded red-violet book that reminded him of old bestiaries and ancient spellbooks. It was sealed with a golden crest. From nowhere, a breeze picked up, and the book opened. The pages flipped, fifty in a half-second, and fell open to a certain entry. The left page was illustrated with zodiac signs, astrological charts, and a small map of something. The other page was covered in large text in basic English. Some of it looked familiar, resembled Latin…

It was Latin. He slowly kneeled down, and scooped the book up with his left hand. Poo continued to stare resolutely at the door, ignoring everything possible. He readjusted his grip on his shotgun whilst going over the text in his head…

Cunctus lamis emergo et combibo.

‘All vampires arise and drink…’

Cunctus praecantris evigilo et terreo.

‘All, witches, I think… awaken and frighten…’

Cunctus homo-lupis appareo et epulo.

‘All man-wolves manifest and feast…’

Cunctus corporis vivo et comburo.

‘All corpses live and consume…’

Vado et eradico natura rerum.

‘Go and destroy the world…?’

Fatum sum iuxta.

‘The fate is near… No, can’t be.’ He went over it in his head.

Lamis. Praecantris. Home-lupis. Corporis.

Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Zombies.

Those were the monsters he had been shooting at for the past two hours. He looked at the astrological chart. It lacked some of the major constellations. The obvious ones were there, but not the ones that had been discovered with telescopes and such. This was old. Very old. Older than West Germanic languages, as English was.

‘Then how the hell was this written with the Modern English alphabet…?’ The facts began to click in his head. Someone had foreseen some little brat with an interest in sorcery, or just some idiot who didn’t care to translate before reading off a passage from an archaic book. They foresaw what they might speak, and analyzed it. Then they wrote a passage in the old Latin alphabet, and translated it to Modern English.

Greyson felt his heart drop.

Some medieval bastard had written in a passage that was the key to the end of the world that some fool would undoubtedly read aloud someday. The plan had worked to a tee. The world would end, because whatever it was out there was going to ravage the lands. Luck had not been on anyone’s side today.

He eagerly flipped through the pages, looking for some sort of counter-spell. There was none. He sighed a heavy sigh, and tossed it to the side. Maybe if he held out ‘til sunrise, the entire thing would end.

The bookcase fell to the floor in front of them, smashing itself to bits. In less than a second, the doors swung open. The army outside was greeting with shotgun fire and blasts of icy wind. The monstrosities slowly began to edge their was in, then found the windows were unguarded. Growls, screams, and unearthly moans almost drowned out the battle cries of the two dynamic fighters, never pausing to catch their breath. Poo kept to his PSI, resorting to his Sword of Kings when anything got too close. Greyson fired off round after round, then drew the cross-knife fromn under his left pants leg. Flashes of red-tinted metal came from between visceral cutting sounds. The two would fight until death, whether it be of their opponents or themselves. It was getting bleaker by the second as more and more beasts filled in, fought with greater front, began to slowly surround the two…

Somewhere along the line, a witch hurled a fireball, missing its intended target. It hit a wall instead. The old wood of the Onett Library took to it, and the walls were ablaze. Greyson and Poo fought inside an inferno. Ness, Paula, and Jeff continued to succumb to the darkness, and cried amongst the burning embers. Fire crept from the walls to the floor, lighting books on fire.

A single faded red-violet book lying in the middle floor slowly caught fire, and actually began to scream…

----

Picky wandered through the halls of the library. Several strips of orange and black crepe paper had been hung, as well as dozens of cheesy Halloween decorations. There was only one reason he came here now, and it wasn’t for this ‘Haunted Library’ crud. He came because the library opened a special ‘Occult’ section during the Halloween season. And Picky loved the occult. He could find dictionaries, ancient bestiaries, or maybe even a spellbook. But those had always been hard to come by.

Funny, it was held shut with a golden crest with a keyhole in it.

He didn’t know what it meant.

Picky held the open book in one hand, and, for effect, raised one arm to the heavens.

The open book suddenly burst into flames, and Picky dropped it to the ground, surprised as all hell. The book actually wriggled and began to scream. Images flashed into his head. Ness crying over his sister. That Paula girls running from a bunch of guys in tattered clothing. The blond guy with glasses slowly walking through a trashed lab stained in blood. A gray-haired man with a knife and a shotgun and a kid with a topknot and a sword fighting off an army of shadows all by themselves. Then, he saw a pair of glowing red eyes, and heard a deep, throaty cackle that slowly evolved into maniacal laughter of banished centuries, bound to his ears only…

This frightened him. It scared him so much that he started to run away. He ran out of the library and into the sun. He ran up on the path leading back to his house. He ran past the dogs and the snakes and the crows, all of them curious. He ran past Ness’s house, not caring that his place was probably the safest place in town, and ran into his own house. Picky slammed the door behind him, and ran upstairs, into his bedroom, and dove under the bed. At last, a sanctuary from whatever he had just let loose from the book. He hadn’t even cast a spell. It was like some act of God prevented him from doing what he might’ve done. What would’ve happened if he had cast that spell? No matter. He was safe now. The insane laughter drowned out the sound of raindrops pattering against glass. It had begun to rain.

Nothing could get him under here.

Nothing.

***

Dateline: October 30, 2001

It took three years of screw-ups and a single crash that set me back by a half-a-decade, but it’s done. I wanted to make a Halloween ‘fic that left an impression. If you’re reading this, then I delivered, I think. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t send me ‘you heartless bastard!!!’ flames. You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, as the cliché goes. However, I’ll admit, I probably did go a bit overboard on this one… But this is not me venting over the Sept. 11 crisis. One must change their focus from time to time, and I’ll be shifting into humor sooner or later.

Politely ignore how the timeframe of things seems to be off. When your working on a stream of consciousness that you’ve been desperately clawing on to for the past three years, you have a tendency to jot things down as quickly as possible before it loses any more intensity. Yes, parts of this were actually supposed to be more intense than they are now, but have since eroded slightly since the October of 1998. The quality of the whole thing suffered too.

And, if you’re a bit curious, try going here. I finally have a homepage. Sorta.

Hope you enjoyed…

Don’t eat too much candy.

You’ll feel real sick in the morning if you do.

Happy Halloween.

The R. Enforcer.