"Happy Halloween! 2" Chapter 2 (Part 3) and Epilogue

Here is the conclusion to my (rather long) short story, "Happy Halloween! 2." The battle with Professor Apo comes to an end.  Will the Halloween friends be victorious, or will Halloween be lost forever? I hope you've enjoyed this holiday journey.  Thank you for taking the time to read a small part of a series that has been dear to me for so long.  As always, I would appreciate any feedback you have on this section, or on the story as a whole.  Thanks again!

“It’s time to feed, my children,” said the professor.

“This is cheap, Professor Apo, and you know it!” Pumpkin shouted.  “You let us down and we’ll finish this!”

“Cheap, indeed, Pumpkin!” the old man retorted.  “Cheap! Any real warrior knows that you should use any tools at your disposal to claim victory.  These zombies, and these claws, are mine.”

“You can’t fight, so you get others to fight for you!” Awana screamed.  “You’re a coward, Apo!”

“More of a coward than your boyfriend?” The professor laughed.  “My my, just look at the sniveling freak, crying in the corner.  He knows that you will soon be dead, and that he can do nothing to stop it.  He knows that I’ve already won.  No one can stop me.”

The zombies closed the gap that the friends had previously filled.  They moaned and groaned, reaching toward their hanging treats.  One of them managed to grab Awana’s feet.  At that moment, the door before the tunnel fell forward with an earsplitting bang and Frankenstein’s monster erupted into the room.  He bristled with rage once he saw the predicament of his allies, and he stampeded forward with inhuman speed.  Skulls were crushed between his bare hands.  Legs were broken beneath even the weakest of his kicks.  Multiple creatures were tackled at one time and squished to a pulp.  Spines were shattered with ease.  Frankenstein’s monster roared and stomped, forsaking his humanity so that he could rescue his dearest friends.  He stomped and roared, thinking of nothing but clearing the room of anything trying to harm those he loved.  Soon everything around him was dead, and he was unscathed.  Awana and the Halloween friends hung overhead, their cheers louder than the professor’s earlier laugh—which had now stopped completely.

The professor stood in the same place, staring at Frankenstein’s monster incredulously.  His mouth was gaping.  In the corner, Jonathan stood up and wiped his face.  He looked at the mess of dead creatures on the floor and shuddered.  The professor did the same.  Then, trying to shake it off, he cleared his throat.  “I—um….I—It’s no matter, of course.” He leaned against the table, this time out of a need for support rather than out of cockiness.  “Um….Yes, no matter whatsoever.  I didn’t throw anything against you that couldn’t be spared.  Everything is quite all right.” He swallowed, straightened himself out, and reached under the table again.  “Well, excellent, my friends.  You’ve conquered the first wave! But let’s see what comes next….”

“No, professor!” Jonathan demanded.  “No, not this time.”  He walked steadily toward the old man.  “I led the expedition here.  Your fight is with me.”

“Well well, good morning, sunshine!” the professor greeted him with a sarcastic smile.  “Would you like a plate of eggs and waffles? Maybe a side of bacon? It’s so very sad that you cried yourself to sleep.  Did you remember to bring your teddy bear?”

“Funny.” Jonathan smirked.  “But you’re going to die now, and your sick creations will die with you.  Face me!”

The professor took off his goggles and laughed.  “You’re serious? Because I have no qualms about killing a kid.”

“Oh, well that’s good, because I have no qualms about killing an evil old man.” Jonathan was now twenty feet from his foe.  “Now come here and face me.”

Professor Apo opened a drawer connected to the table and revealed a dagger.  He took the weapon and approached Jonathan, making his way around the cauldron.  Jonathan continued to walk forward.

“You know, it’s not the best idea to fight another person bare-handed if he has a weapon,” the professor informed him.

“Just shut up,” Jonathan ordered, “and let’s do this.”

The professor arrived at the front of the cauldron and tapped the dagger repeatedly against one palm.  His overconfident smile scalded Jonathan’s heart, but he came on.  To everyone’s surprise, he started sprinting.  The professor dropped into a fighting stance, his legs spread shoulder-width apart, and his dagger held out straight before his body.  As he had done previously, Jonathan jumped over two tables.  He released a battle cry that put his earlier one to shame.  As he closed in on his opponent, Professor Apo hurdled forward and thrust his weapon toward the boy’s abdomen.  It was a poorly executed strike.  For at that moment, Jonathan managed to leap and dodge to the side even in his swift assault and avoid the blade completely.  Professor Apo gasped.  Jonathan’s battle cry continued.  His shoulder crashed into the evil man’s chest with amazing force, launching him more than a yard back.  Jonathan landed and slid a few feet across the diamond floor.  Professor Apo’s back foot landed on Ms. Unicorn, and he lost his last bit of balance.  He slipped, smashed against the cauldron, and flipped over the rim.  The steaming solution absorbed him and bubbled, and he was gone.

The claws snapped.  The companions fell to the ground in a heap, and Frankenstein helped them stand.  Everything started to shake, and stones fell from the ceilings and the walls.  Glass from every corner of the room broke into countless pieces.  Together the companions, joined by Ghost, walked over to the cauldron and peered inside.  The solution evaporated.  Professor Apo was nowhere to be seen; only a few stray ashes lay scattered across the base of the large pot.

“Johnny boy…” said Awana, “I totally love you right now.  More than usual.”

“That’s good to know,” Jonathan responded.  He knelt down and picked up Ms. Unicorn.  “My goodness, girl! I’m sorry to have used you for such mundane purposes! That man’s dirty feet had no right to touch you! Yes, I know.  I owe you one.  Listen, maybe I’ll give you a bath later.  Get the smell of evil-foot off you.”

“Uh…how sweet,” Pumpkin said, scratching his head—er, body.  A glass cabinet exploded behind them.  “Look, Jonathan, I need to tell you something.  I’m sorry about the way I treated you and the things I said about you.  You’re a better leader than I thought.  I was wrong to doubt you.  Please accept my apologies.”

“I do, Pumpkin,” Jonathan replied with a bow.  The cauldron cracked in half.  “Thank you for saying that.”

“Oh.  My.  Gosh.” Awana began to get excited.  Chandeliers dropped like bird feces.  Really dangerous bird feces.  “Today’s Halloween! I remember! Oh, and I got an awesome costume for later.  Unfortunately, it’s in the garbage.  You can’t blame me, though.  I mean, if you don’t know that Halloween is a real holiday, finding a strange outfit can get you pretty confused.”

“Hold on, guys,” Jonathan told them.  Test tubes rolled off counters and tables, cracking and blowing apart.  “We haven’t thanked Frankenstein’s monster.  Without him, we would all be dead right now.  Seriously.”  He looked at the creature and raised his hand.  “Good game, dude!”

Frankenstein’s monster smacked it with a smile and broke the boy’s wrist in the process.  “It was nothing, and I would rather forget it, if at all possible.”

“But you said you were going to stay out there,” Awana reminded him.  “You said you didn’t want to kill again.”

Frankenstein’s monster looked at the ground.  “Killing humans is wrong.  It is missing the mark of what the Creator of creators wants for us.  But perhaps some killing may be justified—I do not know.  If you do it to save a loved one, it may be different.” He shrugged.  Half the ceiling caved in on the other side of the room.  “And the question may be posited: were those creatures still human? They were mindless.”

“What is humanity?” Awana said with a sigh.

“All right, people,” spoke Jonathan, nursing his wrist.  “Humans have been asking this for thousands of years.  We don’t have that kind of time.  Look!”

“Oh, would you look at that,” said Pumpkin, turning everyone’s attention to the chaos surrounding them.

“We need to get out of here,” Jonathan suggested.  “Now.”

“Ok.” Pumpkin brandished his sword.  “Right behind you, boss.”

They rushed toward the tunnel, and just as they were about to enter the darkness, a few of them half-noticed that Witch stopped to lift something from the ground.  She stared at the object for a moment while dust and debris rained down behind her.  Then, with a frown, she placed it in one of her pockets and raced after the group.  Jonathan was perplexed by this, but he knew that it was not the time to ask questions that could well result in a long conversation. They rushed into the thick dark of the rumbling tunnel, Ms. Unicorn serving as their only source of light.  Ghost, who hovered alongside Jonathan, wore a puzzled expression on his face.

“What is it, Ghost?” Jonathan asked.

“Well, I was thinking about how you seemed to take care in where you dropped Ms. Unicorn,” said Ghost, scratching his head.  “Did you drop her, then retreat to the corner on purpose?”

“Maybe.” Jonathan chuckled.  “That would be something, wouldn’t it?”

Epilogue

Halloween

“I have to admit, Awana, I did not expect this.”

Jonathan could not help but get a little…excited when he saw Awana in her costume.  She was a unicorn.  A pink unicorn.  And she had a slot for her head, so she would not suffocate and die.

“What do you think?”

“I think….” Jonathan tripped over his words.  “Ms. Unicorn is proud to know you.  She says you do justice to the dwindling unicorn population.”

“Aw, how sweet!” Awana took the toy from his hands and drew it close to her.  “Maybe she and I can be pals!”

Jonathan snatched it back from her, mortified.  “I don’t think anyone here is ready for that.”

His dad, sitting beside his mom on the couch, had been chortling for about an hour after they had recounted the details of their adventure.  His chortling was now louder than ever.  “Oh, come on, now, son! Why don’t you just give her a kiss already?”

“Yeah!” his mom chimed in.  “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

Jonathan looked at Awana.  She drew nearer to him.  “Um….” He took a step back.  “I don’t think anyone is ready for that, either.”

“Fine, Johnny boy,” said Awana, sulking.  “But mark my words: I will get that kiss before the end of the year.”

“We’ll see.” He grinned.

The Halloween friends came out of Jonathan’s room, each of them wearing his or her costume.  Witch was a green dinosaur; Ghost was a mummy; Frankenstein’s monster was Dracula, Bat was a ghost (not like Ghost; he was much scarier), and Cat was a dog, specifically a small, yellow Labrador.  Pumpkin walked out last, dressed like a Jonathan.  Jonathan was rather put-off by this fact.  The similarities were unsettling—except for the fact that the outfit was about three times shorter than he was.  He repeatedly asked where Pumpkin had acquired it.  The squash refused to answer.  In fact, Pumpkin was quite shocked, himself.  Jonathan was dressed like a pumpkin, but not like any pumpkin; this pumpkin was a jack-o-lantern­, and one that was cursed to smile for eternity.  Pumpkin did not speak for the rest of the night.

“You guys aren’t going too far, right?” Jonathan’s mom inquired.

“No, Mrs. Legcheese,” they responded in unison.

“Good,” she said.  “You never know what’s going to happen on Valentine’s Day.”

The companions looked at each other.  Jonathan’s eyes grew as large as donuts.  Awana fell over.  This was not from receiving the news; the horn on her costume was an actual unicorn horn, and was extremely heavy.

“Just kidding!” Mrs. Legcheese slapped her thigh.  “April Fools! Ok, you guys have a great Halloween, now.”

The group shut the door behind them and made their way across Jonathan’s yard, scratching their heads—well, those who were physically capable of accomplishing such a feat.  Witch scratched her head a little longer than the others did.  Jonathan noticed.

“Something wrong, Witch?”

“I was just thinking about what the professor sang,” she confessed.  “Remember the last lines? He mentioned something about two potions being safe in the hands of M.D.  Do you think it’s true? And if it is, who is M.D.?”

“Isn’t that some kind of degree you have if you’re a doctor?” said Awana.  “Maybe he was referring to himself, since he was a professor.  Or maybe he had a doctor friend, and he gave the two potions to that guy.”

Jonathan tried to rub his chin, but the pumpkin costume got in the way.  “Hmm….Bat, did Kory say anything to you and Cat about M.D. when you flew over there after our quest?”

“He had no idea what the letters meant.” Bat flapped his wings steadily, which actually looked quite ridiculous, because they were covered by the arms of his ghost costume.  “The only thing he had to say was that he had been thinking a lot about what you told him before…about the old lady who stopped you in the street earlier.  He seemed a bit anxious, but told me to tell you not to worry about it.  He wanted you to have a good Halloween.  Isn’t that right, Cat?”

“Meow,” said Cat.

“Well, I plan to,” Jonathan told Cat, petting her.  He looked at the group.  “Happy Halloween, everyone!”

“Happy Halloween!” most of them repeated. 

As they came to the foot of Jonathan’s house, they cheered wildly, for they noticed that families were either finishing spreading their Halloween decorations across their yards, or had finished and were looking upon them with fulfilled smiles.  Scarecrows, fake tombstones, long stretches of cobweb, machinery looping maniacal laughs, pumpkins, and other articles of the holiday spirit draped the lawns, porches, trees, and homes of the small town.  Children, some terrified, and some never happier, walked the sidewalks between their parents and longed for candy—or more of it.  Teenagers wove between homes, laughing about some rebellious deed they had just committed, all of them hoping to acquire enough candy bars to last them the winter.  Each of the companions remembered the bleak scene they had witnessed earlier: the streets were blank; the townspeople were hidden behind the walls of their houses; the yards were bare and unimpressive.  But now the town came alive, and the sense of community was tangible.  The long celebrated holiday, as they had known it for so many years, had returned.

 Ghost was one of the few who did not wish his friends a happy Halloween.  Indeed, from the manner in which he floated beneath his mummy wraps, he looked miserable.  Witch pouted and asked him, “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Well, Witch, if you must know….” He rubbed the phantom area of his lower body and looked at her mournfully.  “My legs hurt!”

Pumpkin tried to kick him.  And failed.

                           T     H     E

                                         E     N     D
                                                            ?

"Happy Halloween! 2" Chapter 2 (Part 2)

As I explained in my last post, "Happy Halloween! 2" is longer than I had anticipated.  In fact, it is such a lengthy piece that two more posts (including this one) will be necessary to conclude it.  The last part of chapter two, in addition to the story's epilogue, will be ready either tomorrow or Sunday.  In this section, the fight with Professor Apo begins.  Will Jonathan, Awana, and the Halloween friends be victorious?

It was almost impossible to see in the blackness of the tunnel, but Jonathan’s eyes adjusted somewhat quickly—and Ms. Unicorn apparently carried an innate luminosity, serving as a small beacon of light to her owner and Awana.  They heard the scuffing of Witch’s feet and the flapping of Bat’s wings as they hurried after Pumpkin.  The floor was harder than any substance they had felt before, and Jonathan caught a glimpse every now and then of the diamond path beneath him.  Whether or not it was actual diamond he did not know; but even if it was fake, the cost of laying down this many yards of flooring was substantial.  Although it was dark and full of twists and turns, the tunnel did not have other roads branching off from it; however, because of its constant change of direction, it had a maze-like quality.  Jonathan’s speed as he hastened down some of its long stretches and tight corners astounded Awana, and she had to cling to his shirt both to keep up and to remind him that she was still there.  Finally they caught up to the Halloween friends, who were already closing in on Pumpkin.  He was nowhere in sight, but the pat-pat of his stem-like legs against the floor was audible.  The tunnel stopped twisting and turning.  One unhindered path rolled out into the shadows before them.  They noticed that Pumpkin’s footsteps had ended, and then there was a loud “Whoa!” and the sound of something—or someone—collapsing in a heap.  Jonathan raised Ms. Unicorn into the air.  Light fell upon the floor of the tunnel, and everyone saw Pumpkin and Witch lying flat on their faces.

“Watch where you’re going, Witch!” Pumpkin muttered as he rose to his feet.

“Eh, ‘tis easier said than done,” Witch replied, holding her hip and standing.  “The darkness is heavy here.”

“Well, things get a lot brighter up ahead,” Pumpkin told the group.  “Look!”

They stared forward and noticed that, ten yards away, the tunnel ended and opened up into an expansive room.  Pumpkin led them to its broadening point at a slow and stealthy pace, and the room became clearer.  Its size was about forty by forty feet (with a high, arching ceiling cut from the mountains' natural stone), and it was cluttered with glass tables, cabinets, and display cases; everything sat upon the diamond floor.  The tables were laden with test tubes, pipettes, beakers, clear bins, jars of various compounds, Bunsen burners, hot plates, and many other items whose names the companions could not guess.  Dispersed across the ceiling in symmetrical design were glass chandeliers, blazing with the light of the fake candles they held.  In some areas of the floor, there were broken or abandoned projects: steel golems with missing heads, hybrid weapons, gelatinous substances and, most frightening of all, scarred cadavers.  In the center of the room sat a massive cauldron that bubbled, orange and black tendrils of steam rising from it with a low hiss.  An old, nearly bald man wearing a white lab coat and goggles stood behind it with his back turned to the group, carefully adding drops from a pipette to a solution in a test tube.  To the friends’ surprise, he was singing:

Three potions done, three more to come.

The end is now in sight.

Halloween gone, resurrection,

And goodness turned to blight.

The holidays shall fade away;

I’ll burn them to their core.

In ash they’ll lay, that none may say,

“Happy ‘this’” anymore.

A touch of this, a dash of that.

My potion’s almost done.

The day of thanks will not be had;

I’ll strip them of their fun.

And if they seek and try to take

The potions I’ve conceived,

They’ll curse their fate, for two are safe

In the hands of M.D.

            Ghost looked at Pumpkin.  “He sang, ‘If they seek and try to take.’  Do you think he suspects us?”

“I don’t know,” said Pumpkin.  “It might be.”

“Even if he does,” Jonathan joined in, “it doesn’t matter.  He’s working on a new potion, and he’s almost done.  And it sounds like it’s going to steal the spirit of Thanksgiving.  We need to stop him, and we need to do it now.”

“What an excellent idea, little child!” the old man exclaimed.  He reached under a table in front of him, and there was a whooshing sound behind the group.  A yard behind them, a door clanged to the ground.  “But if it’s to be a true fight, we can’t have anyone escaping, can we?”

“Old men and their antics!” yelled Ghost.

“What an overconfident lunatic!” Bat shrieked.

“Pumpkin,” Jonathan murmured, “you were right.  It is a massacre in here.  Just look at all those bodies.”

Pumpkin paused.  “Um…oh, yeah.  I wasn’t really talking about them.  Just look at that long table over there! Seriously! I can’t bear to look.”

Jonathan gazed to his left and saw a dining table bearing at least a dozen pumpkin pies.  “What? They’re just pumpkin—Oh, yeah.  I’m sorry, Pumpkin.”

The squash shuddered.

“I am Professor Aponowatsomidichloron,” the old man announced, turning around to face them.  He had set down the test tube in a test tube rack.  “I believe that you refer to me as ‘Professor Apo.’  Why don’t you come in? Unless you have ranged weapons, I believe that two parties engaged in a battle should be close to each other, don’t you?”

“You’re absolutely right,” Jonathan answered coolly.  He stepped away from his companions and headed toward the professor with a determined stride.  He gripped Ms. Unicorn tighter than usual, though he was sorry to do so.  He thought he heard her suffocating in his grasp.

“Johnny boy!” Awana cried, clearly terrified for him but too afraid to step forward.

“I got this, cupcake,” he said to her.

She looked at Witch, almost swooning.  “He called me ‘cupcake!’”

Witch shook her head.

“Professor,” Jonathan growled, “you have stolen the spirit of Halloween.  You’re trying to steal the spirit of Thanksgiving, and who knows what else.  But I’ve come to stop you.”

“Fine,” the professor said with a laugh.  Then his face became grave.  “Just try it.”

Jonathan let out a battle cry and burst forth toward his enemy.  He leapt over two tables and lifted Ms. Unicorn toward the ceiling.  Professor Apo stood his ground.  He clasped his hands behind his back and grinned.  Jonathan increased his speed and lifted Ms. Unicorn even higher.  The professor leaned against the table behind him.  As Jonathan prepared to jump over the cauldron smoldering in front of the old man and throw his weapon with all his might, the professor hit something beneath the table.  There was a tremendous sound of rock against rock all around the room.  And then, to Jonathan’s horror, resurrected cadavers—zombies, as people tend to call them—poured like ants from newly revealed holes in the stone walls.  He stopped running a few feet before the cauldron.  Then, with a loud squeal of which he was quite ashamed, he dropped Ms. Unicorn and retreated to a corner nearest his allies.  There he huddled, burying his face in his hands.  The Halloween friends, however, noted with some confusion that he was very specific as to the location in which he dropped the toy.

A hundred or more zombies entered the room, approaching the companions slowly.  Professor Apo remained where he had been.  His evil laugh could be heard even among the groans of the living cadavers.  Pumpkin brandished his sword and turned to his friends.

“Jonathan is the kind of leader I thought he was,” he said.  “In a time when true leadership is required, he has fled.  But that is fine, because victory is not beyond our grasp.  We can win this battle.  We have faced adventures before, and once we finish this, we will face many more.  It will be but one more tale to tack on to our list of extraordinary exploits.  Go forth, Halloween friends.  Show them the true meaning of comradeship…and of pain!”

Then they charged forward, roaring (and screeching and meowing), undaunted by the seemingly innumerable force before them.  Before they could meet their foes, Ghost literally disappeared for a short while, but they did not know why until later.  Awana ran at Pumpkin’s side, and behind them, Witch, Bat, and Cat (abreast) followed.  Jonathan was shivering and crying in the corner, too scared to take another look at the undead making their way across the room.  Professor Apo continued to laugh. He now looked toward the ceiling with arms raised and chest heaving.  The zombies marched forward, intent on ridding the room of every living thing but their master.  Pumpkin’s sword led the companions forth, forth into the fray.

Pumpkin met with the enemies first.  His sword hewed the head from one zombie and the legs from another.  He then began to jump from table to table, now somersaulting, now spinning while swinging his sword with professional strokes at his enemies.  There were moments when he would vanish from his allies’ sight, and they would panic; but then, seconds later, he would explode upward from beneath a table and down a small group of zombies with an airborne spin attack.  The thrill of battle was upon him, and rather than fear (which would be understandable), only excitement touched him.  It was not long before his sword, after years of unuse, was smeared with blood.

Awana astonished everyone, especially Jonathan, who finally found the courage to look up from time to time.  Long had she hidden her passion for Jiu-Jitsu, but now she put it on display for all of the room to see.  To her disappointment, the zombies did not seem particularly interested in engaging her in the sort of match for which the sport called.  This attitude resulted in their demise.  Before they could eat her flesh, she would wrap them up in her legs like undead pretzels and render them immobile.  She would then destroy them with the nearest object at hand.  She favored the Bunsen burner (as this item made interesting effects on their faces when turned to high heat), but she also settled for broken beakers and the occasional stray metal scrap.

Witch soared high above the crowd on her broom, cackling wildly.  At times, she would chant dark words and release violent sprays of magic toward the oncoming creatures.  At other times, she would reach into her pockets and drop potions upon the undead like grenades.  When she ran out of potions, and when she was not chanting, she would sweep down and ram her broom into the opponents at full speed.  There were even rare moments when she would extend both arms upward and, after yelling something about liver of rabbit and antlers of hart, she would shoot through the room in a dark whirlwind that picked up zombies and tossed them against the walls.

Ghost, it turned out, had visited the spirit realm and now returned with some heavy artillery.  Withdrawing to the backroom, he spent a few minutes building something.  The companions, fighting for their lives, thought that he was being a coward and had found something less threatening to occupy his time.  Soon, however, they were grateful to him.  He constructed a ghostly catapult that lobbed spectral spheres of energy upon the horde of zombies.  Though he was not in danger at any time, he was very much part of the battle; his constant loading and slinging of the catapult resulted in five to ten enemy deaths at a time. 

Bat was a sight to see.  His movements as he cut through the air and sent his sharp wings through flesh and bone were graceful and flawless.  As was inevitable, a zombie would intermittently attempt to swat him or seize and eat him.  That zombie would have no luck, for Bat would dart away from his grasp at the last second, propel himself toward the ceiling, and then shower upon his enemy with his fangs exposed.  His teeth bit deeply into flesh, and he knew where to bite.  Even if he did not always kill his prey, he would maim each opponent in such a way that effective fighting was no longer possible.

Cat, though the smallest of the group, was not by any means the weakest.  The instant she entered battled, she released a hiss that was so piercing, half the front line retreated.  Even the professor felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  Cat then managed to cover every square foot of the room in little time, hopping from table to table with admirable agility.  In her flight, she would land on the chest of some foe and puncture it with her claws.  Then she would launch her teeth into his neck and leap onto the next table.  There was one moment when she saw Witch flying down toward her, so she jumped from a table and landed in the cackling lady’s arms.  Witch then spun across the room in her whirlwind while Cat hissed, causing zombies to flee in every direction.  They would not get far, for Pumpkin’s sword or Ghost’s aim would end their flight prematurely.

             Yet fight as they might, the sheer number of the zombies was too much for the group.  They began to grow weary, and they huddled close together to assure that no one would be the target of some surprise attack.  Even in their weakness, they managed to slay many of their enemies; but they noticed that it would take much longer to kill one zombie, and that they would feel even weaker after each kill.  Ghost could no longer utilize his catapult effectively, for the zombies were now too close to his companions; they would be caught up in friendly fire.  Jonathan did not budge from his position, and because he was concealed behind some tables and lab paraphernalia, the zombies did not see him.  Professor Apo grew frustrated with the allies’ persistence, so he hit another button underneath his table.  Slots opened in the ceiling.  Massive steel claws dropped down and sought out each member of the party.  Ghost could do nothing but stare in awe and horror.  The claws held the five companions a couple feet above the hungry crowd, like the hand of a child dangling food over his dog’s head.

"Happy Halloween! 2" Chapter 2 (Part 1)

            Halloween is approaching quickly! Therefore, after considering the length of my latest short story, I decided to post the next part a few days early.  I still plan to post the final bit on Saturday, October 27th.  I am posting this part now to avoid putting a huge chunk of my work into my blog all at once.  Please take the time to read this piece, which is significant to the story (and possible sequels) and sets up for the epic final scene.  Thank you.

Chapter 2

                  Into the Mountain

The eight companions ascended the first of the foothills, and as they looked back, they saw the long stretch of road dwindling into the eastern horizon.  Jonathan led them, maintaining his balance with a walking stick he had found at the base of the hills, and holding Ms. Unicorn in the other hand.  Awana followed, holding onto the back of his shirt and occasionally glancing at her gauzed and bandaged knee.  Pumpkin was next in line, a yard behind her, carrying his sheathed weapon and struggling up the steep hillside.  Witch seemed to enjoy the journey, for once they had reached the foot of the hills she had whipped out a hovering broom, and having mounted it, she floated after Pumpkin a few feet off the ground.  Ghost huffed and puffed every step of the way, his head constantly sulking under the weight of travel.  Frankenstein’s monster took strides large enough for three of the group, and it did not appear that their miles of walking had made an effect on him.  Bat winged his way above the tall grass that rose from the earth, and Cat followed as best she could, sometimes getting off track when a tempting butterfly or bee wandered in sight.

Patches of dark trees blotted the rising landscape, rising up like ominous sentries forbidding further passage.  At first they were inconsistent and widely scattered; but as the friends neared the crest of the first hill, the trees clustered together and transformed the scenery from hills to rolling woodland.  The trees cast long shadows across the earth, shrouding the group in an unholy darkness even in the middle of the day.  Their hearts were heavy, not only because of the shadows, but also from being clueless as to the difficulty of the upcoming battle.  Jonathan was restless.  He gritted his teeth and tapped Ms. Unicorn.  He looked back and forth and gripped his walking stick with all his might.  For years he had daydreamed about embarking on some epic quest to conquer evil, but now that the dream was being fulfilled, he could only feel dread.  Arriving at the foothills, and being what was likely a short walk from the professor’s camp, brought an extra dose of reality to him.  He might have to kill someone before the day was over.

Once they reached the peak of the first hill, Bat rose above the trees and scouted out the mountain range to the west.  The Halloween friends sat on some boulders and peered out of the woods at the town far below.  Awana scooted close to Jonathan.  “So, Johnny boy,” she said, “any women in your life?”

“Good old Ms. Unicorn is always here for me,” he replied.  “She accepts me for who I am.”

“I accept you for who you are, too!” she exclaimed, hitting him lightly with her elbow.  “No one else has a shrine to you.  Believe me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.  “What?”

“Oh, nothing.  But seriously, don’t you think I accept you for who you are?”

“Mostly.”

“What am I doing wrong?”

“Awana,” he muttered, bringing Ms. Unicorn close, “we’re on a journey.  We don’t have time for this.”

“Oh, but you have time for her, don’t you?” Awana gestured at the toy in his hands.  “You always have time for her.”

“Well, yeah,” said Jonathan matter-of-factly.  “Of course.  She’s my pride and joy.  On a rainy day, when I’m upset and curled up in a corner, holding myself for warmth, Ms. Unicorn helps me through it.”

“I could be the one to do that, if you just gave me the chance!” Awana was almost hysterical.  “I could be your Ms. Unicorn!”

Pumpkin smacked his palm against his face—er, himself.  He looked at Cat.  “Can you believe these two?”

“Meow,” said Cat.

“We’re close!” came a whiny screech from above.  Bat darted down between the colossal, golden leaves of fall.  “I saw some smoke rising up from what looked like tents a couple miles to the west.  It’s in a valley between the end of the foothills and the beginning of the mountains.”

“Then we shan’t linger here any longer than we need to, shall we, dearies?” Witch addressed the group.   “I say we chase down a moose, pluck three hairs from his hiney, squish a toad and collect the remains, extract the beak from an owl, gather the feces of a bear, and throw it all into a cauldron.  Then we add the brain juice of a skunk and two-thirds of a cup of water, stir, and chant the Ancient Occultist Creed of 794 over the concoction.  We put it all in a dozen vials, get on our flying brooms, and bomb Professor Apo’s camp into oblivion.”

“Yeah!” Awana cried, leaping off the boulder and running to her side.

“Or…” said Pumpkin, “we could play it sneaky and split into two groups.  One group can approach the camp from one side, while the other can edge the camp and approach from the opposite.  The first group can scout out the area by physically going into the camp and searching for the professor.  If they run into trouble, and are forced into battle, the second group can flank the enemies and take them by surprise.” Pumpkin jabbed the end of his sword into the earth and stood in a rather proud stance.

“Just remember, I’m the leader of this expedition,” Jonathan reminded them.  He slid down the side of the boulder and walked up to the group.  “Ultimately, what I say goes.  But until we actually reach the camp, we don’t even know what the area looks like.  We should wait to get there before we make a plan.”

“Just so you know, Johnny boy,” Pumpkin cut in sardonically, “anyone who calls himself a leader must listen to the opinions of those beneath him.  Arrogance is one of the first signs of bad leadership.”

“Then from what I’ve read and heard,” Jonathan retorted, “you must be the king of arrogance.”

The Halloween friends gasped, looking at Pumpkin.  The squash was silent for a few seconds, tapping his sheathed sword with one hand.  “What have you read? What do you mean? Kids don’t read.”

“Some do.  Writers do.”

The group gasped again.  “He’s just like Kory!” Bat whispered to Cat.  “Just like our master!”

“Jonathan’s not our master,” said Pumpkin.  “Jonathan didn’t create us.  We don’t need to follow him.  Not now, and not ever.”

“You’re right, Pumpkin,” Jonathan admitted.  Then he did something that surprised the group.  He knelt down before them and set Ms. Unicorn on the ground.  “I’m sorry if you thought I was trying to control you.  I’m not.  I just want to dress up in a stupid costume and get a major sugar rush tonight.  Won’t you please help me?”

Pumpkin gazed at his friends, whose countenances appeared to be resolved about something.  He then turned back to Jonathan.  “Well, we already vowed to help you.  We’re not going to go back on that promise.  But I have to tell you, that if I feel like you’re trying to control me and stop me from making my own decisions, I might have to rebel.”

“Fine.” Jonathan rose and smiled at everyone.  “Thank you.  You know, we were doing just fine before we got here.  But it felt like we were almost splitting up just now.  That’s not normal.  What happened?”

“I’m acquainted with many magics, my sweet,” Witch explained to him.  “And whatever Professor Apo is doing, it’s like magic…but much darker than anything I’ve known.”

“But he’s a professor, right?” asked Awana.  “It’s not like he’s a magician.  He’s a scientist.  And science isn’t dark magic.  It’s not capable of changing our feelings about each other.”

“Little one,” said Frankenstein’s monster, “the faculties of science would astound you.  Do not underestimate it.  Its capacity for good is no greater than its capacity for evil.  And this, I can well assure you, falls under the latter label.”

“Personal experience, I’m guessing?” Jonathan inquired.

“I thought you said that you read,” the monster answered.

It took them an hour to reach the camp.  Tan tents were mottled across a clearing in the trees, and a few smoking fire pits lay here and there.   Many of the golden leaves from nearby trees had fallen into the clearing, serving as a decorous, shining floor for the bivouac.  Jonathan was so inspired by this natural carpeting that he began to piece together ideas of how to give his room even more of a glimmer.  Ms. Unicorn seemed to read his thoughts, for she was getting a little excited, too.  Although the camp was spacious, and could potentially keep fifty people comfortably within its bounds, there was not a soul in sight.  In fact, it almost appeared as if a large group had fled hastily from the area, leaving behind most of its goods.  But if this had happened, where had they fled? The Halloween friends examined the area closely and noticed that, built into the steep side of a mountain situated at the western edge of the camp, was the mouth of a cave.  This mouth was shaped as a broad, upside-down  “V” and was decorated with diamonds.  Into the darkness beyond a road of diamond trailed and disappeared.  Professor Apo had to be in there, and others were with him.

Pumpkin looked at Jonathan.  “I get the feeling that his lab is in that cave.”

“Yeah.”

“We should send someone to scout it out, don’t you think?”

Jonathan sighed.  “I don’t know.  The entrance is so narrow.  The scout would probably have to travel far before seeing anything worthy of reporting.  By that time, he could be trapped—or worse.”

“I really think we should send a scout.”

“Pumpkin, just hold on!” Jonathan placed a hand on his head.  “Just let me think for a second.”

They sat there, on the outskirts of the camp, for some time while Jonathan considered every possible plan.  Pumpkin stood close to him, having a staring contest with the cave entrance.  Witch drew lines between the leaves, and she and Ghost began to play hopscotch.  Ghost was particularly terrible at it, probably because of his lack of legs.  Awana was doing some pretty intense stretches, releasing cries that could only be compared to those of some sort of dying land animal—perhaps a hyena, or an ostrich.  Frankenstein’s monster sat on a rock, deep in thought; he had one fist planted beneath his chin, and he stared off into nothingness.  Bat was practicing his diving attacks, flapping around trees and suddenly plunging toward the earth, only to snap back up an inch away from the ground.  Cat took a nap.

Jonathan had almost settled on a course of action when they all jumped at a loud sound nearby.  Pumpkin abruptly screamed, “Leeroy Pumpkin!” and dashed out of their hiding spot.  He charged across the empty camp, and within moments he had disappeared beneath the cave entrance.  The Halloween friends immediately went after him, but Jonathan threw out one arm before them and yelled, “Stop! He made his choice, guys.  Maybe he’ll be successful and return to us with some useful information.  But one thing’s for sure: if we all run into the dark at once, frantically searching for him, we’re going to get slaughtered before we know what hit us.”

“But I didn’t know his first name is Leroy!” Ghost declared.

“It isn’t, my pretty,” said Witch.

The group mumbled and scattered among the leaves and foliage, each member finding a place to sit.  The next few minutes were tantalizing.  Every now and then, someone would get a wild look in his eye and wander clandestinely toward the entrance.  Jonathan would warn him of the danger, and the person would return to his spot.  They waited.  Soon the silence of the valley made the town’s silence earlier seem like a joke; the only noise was a light, shrill, and biting wind that seemed to carry with it ice from the mountains’ distant summits.  Leaves coiled around their ankles and barrel rolled across the glade until they were out of sight.  The longer they waited, the more clearly they could hear sounds from the foothills and farther into the mountains: the caws of crows perched in trees, struggling to stay warm; the crunch of tires against a nearby private road; the rustling of curious animals drawing close enough to see the strange company.  They were all filled with anxiety, but they all realized that remaining here was paramount to the group’s safety.

To ease some of the stress, they began to speak in hushed voices of things bearing little importance.  They talked about their favorite food, favorite breed of dog, favorite soap, and favorite hamburger commercial.  But as the minutes drew on, the conversation became more interesting.  They spoke of their various adventures, and it turned out that the Halloween friends had far more stories to tell than Jonathan and Awana.  Jonathan had read most of the stories, but it was refreshing to hear them from an actual character.  Bat explained how, had it not been for him and his connections to some friends of the sky, none of them would be there at that time.  A bear once found them in town and knocked them unconscious; he then dragged them into his cave and was presumably preparing to eat them.  They managed to escape with Ghost’s help, but ended up on a cliff with nowhere else to run.  Seeing birds high above them, with whom he was well acquainted, Bat called out and the winged wonders lifted them from their quandary.  Of course, they dropped the group in the back of a truck heading for Alaska, and shortly thereafter the companions had been trapped in their neighbor’s house; but at the end of the day, everyone was alive and well.

Their voices dwindled into little more than whispers, and then vanished completely.  Jonathan looked up between the branches and persistent autumn leaves and noticed that the sun had not moved since the last time he had looked at it.  They felt that hours had passed, but it had only been six or seven minutes since Pumpkin’s flight into the cave.  He was beginning to consider a new course of action.  Just as he was about to give the order for them to sneak out from their hiding spots, Pumpkin stormed out of the darkness, dropped his sword, and hopped into Jonathan’s arms.  He babbled incoherently about many things as he buried himself in the boy’s chest.  The group closed in around them, each person’s face fallen and pale with concern.  Jonathan held up his short friend and looked at him.

“Pumpkin,” he said, “Pumpkin, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s terrible!” screamed the squash.  “Terrible!”

“What is, dearie?” Witch asked.  “What’s terrible?”

“It’s a massacre in there!” he cried.  “It’s—they—I can’t explain it.  It has to be stopped.  You need to see it for yourselves.  Then you’ll understand.  Come on, come with me.”

He wriggled out of Jonathan’s arms and sprinted back toward the cave entrance, taking up his sword along the way.  Before Jonathan could stop them, the Halloween friends rushed from the area and into plain sight.  They had almost reached the cave when Awana came to the boy’s side and touched his shoulder.

“We can do this, Johnny boy,” she whispered.  “You can do this.  I believe in you.  Pumpkin looks up to you, though he might not like to admit it.  Why do you think he ran to you when he was afraid just now?”
            “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jonathan replied, his heart racing as he watched his friends disappear.  “What do you suggest we do?”

“I think we should go after them.”

“Yeah, ok, let’s do that.” He faced the cave and took a deep breath.  “For death and glory!”

“Well,” Awana said meekly, “let’s just say ‘for Halloween!’ for now.  Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Right.”

“By the way, Johnny.” She gestured over her shoulder.  “Did you notice that he didn’t go with them?”

Jonathan turned back around and saw Frankenstein’s monster posed as he had been before, sitting thoughtfully on a rock.  He stared toward the diamond-encrusted doorway, but it was obvious that he did not plan to move.  Jonathan approached him and said, “Frankenstein’s monster, aren’t you coming? Don’t you care about your friends?”

“You know I do, Jonathan,” the creature responded.  “I love them as only a genuine heart may.  But as I reflect on the nature of our quest, I see that it can only result in battle and perhaps death.  I have killed before, young friend.  I have killed many times.  And I am not eager to do it again.  I will wait, and I will watch.  Rest assured, nothing will come to surprise you.  Now go.”

"Happy Halloween! 2" Chapter 1 (Part 2)

            After a very thorough search around my house, I managed to dig up two pages of "Happy Halloween! 1."  Rather than rewriting the two pages, however, I will simply include here a description of Jonathan's love interest, Awana Humphfree (as she soon becomes an integral part of the story) from the original 2005 manuscript:
            "He soon came to the house of his former girlfriend, Awana Humphfree.  When he rang the doorbell, she answered the door, and he was taken aback by her beauty.  Her spiked hair had been dyed as red as blood.  Her face was long and furry like that of a Cocker Spaniel.  Facial hear [sic] jutted from above her upper lip.  One of her eyes was green, the other blackish-hazel.  Her ears were festooned with heavy earrings shaped like Christmas trees.  She was extremely emaciated, not weighing a pound above 75 pounds."
            I hope you enjoy the second installment of "Happy Halloween! 2."

            The only remotely fitting description of his parents’ countenances upon the arrival of the group at their home is incredulous.  Jonathan’s mother, who sat with an open book in one hand and a mug in the other, looked at the six strangers, blinked, and checked her coffee for potential defects.  His father was changing a light bulb when they burst through the front door, and at the first sight of them, he stopped twisting in a new bulb and stared.  Jonathan ignored them and approached his room.  He heard the scuffing of someone’s shoes on the floor behind him, and as he turned around, he realized that his new friends were standing awkwardly near the door. 

“Oh, duh, I’m sorry, guys.  Mom, Dad, these are my new friends: Pumpkin, Witch, Ghost, Frankenstein’s monster, Bat, and Cat.  I’m sure you can figure out who’s who.  Guys, these are my parents.”

There was a muddle of uncomfortable sounds exchanged between both parties, and then Jonathan’s mother looked at her son, her eyebrows furrowed.  “Jonathan, can you please tell me why you brought a bat into my house? Do you know the kinds of diseases those things carry around?”

“Yes.  Rabies, histoplasmosis, the croup, elephantitis, et cetera.”

“Exactly.  You seem to be well informed.  Knowing this, you still brought one of these beasts in here?”

“Come on, Mom.  It’s Halloween.  Where’s your holiday spirit?”

She looked at him quizzically.  “What does its hollow wing have to do with a holiday?”

He sighed and looked at the floor.  “I guess it’s true.  Apo really has taken away the holiday spirit.” His gaze returned to her.  “I’m sorry, Mom.  I need to grab something really fast, and then I’ll get it out of here.  Ok?”

She mumbled something in response and continued to read.  The companions then noticed that Jonathan’s father had disappeared from the room.  He appeared moments later, wearing a flowery apron and holding a tray full of muffins.  As he offered them to the group, Jonathan made his way to his room again.  Pumpkin followed.

“You know, Pumpkin, you can stay out there with them,” Jonathan offered.  “I get the feeling that things might get uncomfortable out there, so maybe you can help.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Pumpkin smiled at him.  Of course, as he was a pumpkin with certain features carved into his face (some might therefore call him a “jack-o-lantern,” which would be a bad idea), he always smiled.  “Ghost will have them rolling with laughter by the time we’re ready to leave.  He’s good at that sort of thing.”

Jonathan opened his door, and Pumpkin was shocked by the first thing his new friend did once they entered.  The boy swept a few feet across the floor and, like an elegant swan rising gracefully from a stretch of water, threw out his arms and soared through the air.  Though he may not have sworn on it in later days, Pumpkin was fairly sure that he let out a high-pitched honk in the middle of his ascent.  He came crashing down on the bed in the middle of his room, causing blankets and pillows to scatter in his wake.  Initially, Pumpkin thought that he was just showing off—and doing a poor job of it.  He changed his mind when he found that Jonathan was paying no attention to him whatsoever; in fact, once he had landed, his eyes ignored everything except a toy unicorn on top of a side table next to his bed.  He seized the item, slipped off the edge of his bed, and held his beloved high in the air.  As sunlight fell through an open window on the other side of the room, it soaked the unicorn in a golden splendor and brought forth sparkles, the likes of which Pumpkin had never seen.  Jonathan was clearly awed by what was taking place, but Pumpkin shook his head—er, body—and turned to the side.  To his chagrin, he discovered that the walls were pink and just as sparkly as the toy.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Pumpkin?” the boy asked, his eyes reflecting the unicorn’s many sparkles.

“She’s…stunning, Jonathan,” said the squash.  “And I’m glad to see you so…happy after hearing the bad news about Professor Apo only a few minutes ago.  But I have to say, shouldn’t we grab your weapon and get out of here?”

“Are you hitting on me, Pumpkin?”

“Believe me, if I wanted to hit on someone, I’d do a much better job than that.” Pumpkin crossed his arms.  “Come on, my fearless leader, get your weapon and let’s go.”

“Oh, but this is my weapon!” Jonathan finally stopped holding the toy unicorn in the sunlight and cradled it in front of him.  “Don’t let her undeniable wonder fool you!”

“Right.”

“Ok, almost ready!” The boy grabbed a backpack and started throwing junk of all sorts into it: a hat, small bags of potato chips, deodorant, body spray, a toothbrush and toothpaste, floss, motor oil, a plunger, a paper airplane, a ukulele, some dusty records, his pet lizard Steve, and a trophy from the year he took ballet.  Not sure of the length of the upcoming journey, he thought it would be a good idea to pack some clothes.  Pumpkin came to his side and was about to ask him how much longer he would be, when he pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser.  What Pumpkin saw there stopped him dead in his tracks and interrupted his words.  At the back of the drawer, lying across neatly folded clothes of all colors, was a sheathed short sword.  Jonathan mumbled something about the sword always getting in the way, and he pushed it farther back into the drawer as he searched for clothes he fancied at this time.  Pumpkin tried to kick him but failed, his legs far too short to complete his goal.  Instead, he tapped Jonathan’s legs a few times.

“Yes, Pumpkin?”

“Are you insane?”

“Why do they ask that all the time? Crazy people.” Jonathan grabbed a bright orange shirt and some black jeans.  “Ooh….Perfect!”

“My friend, that’s a perfectly good sword.  A perfectly good weapon.  And you’re just leaving it here?”

“Oh, it has nothing on Ms. Unicorn.  Just some useless relic.”

Pumpkin tried to conjure a look of annoyance in his face, but there was no hope.  He should know by now.  “Fine, can I use this ‘useless relic,’ then?”

Jonathan gestured toward the blade.  “Be my guest.”

Pumpkin jumped into the drawer, took out the sword, and hopped back onto the ground.  He drew it, and the shredding sound it made as it left the sheath satisfied him.  He had anticipated a ringing sound, but apparently all of Hollywood was deceiving the world with its fake sound effects.  The sword was quite heavy, especially for a pumpkin several inches shy of two feet, but he expected that his arms would adjust the longer he used it.  The blade was thin but sharp; it was obviously built for speed rather than brute strength.  Not a blemish marked its surface.  He swung it around, his first few moves quite clumsy, but he seemed to pick it up quickly.  Before long, he was leaping around the room, twirling through the air and slicing left and right with brilliant finesse.  Jonathan finished packing and watched him for a minute or two, cheering him on with many a “Whoa!” and a “Yeah!” and “I’ve never seen anything like that!” and “Watch out for my dresser!” Pumpkin realized that he had a spectator, and so he quit his fine display of swordplay.  He looked at Jonathan and asked, “So, are you ready?”

“Yuppers,” the boy answered.  “Let’s do this thing.”

They returned to the family room and found Jonathan’s parents at separate parts of the room, lying on their sides on the floor.  At first, Jonathan was worried that they were hurt.  Before he could check on them, however, he saw that they were laughing uncontrollably.  The Halloween companions were still standing awkwardly by the door, and they looked at Jonathan and Pumpkin, urging them with their eyes to leave as quickly as possible.  The room brimmed with laughter, but somehow Jonathan’s mom managed to squeeze in the words, “Oh my goodness, Ghost, Ghost, you have to tell them the one about the cup and the water.  It’s hilarious!”

“Um...ok,” Ghost said, scratching his immaterial head.  “Uh…may I please have another cup of water?”

“Pffft!” Jonathan’s mom exclaimed, continuing her fierce chortling.  “Oh God, Ghost, where do you get this stuff?”

Jonathan palmed his face and shook his head.  “Ugh.  Ok, Mom, Dad, keep doing your thing.  I’m going on an adventure, and I don’t know when I’ll be coming back again.  So bye.”

“Ok, son!” his father replied.  “Don’t get lost, now.  And if you need a cup of water, we’ll be here!”

“I’m sure you will.” Jonathan turned to his friends.  “Everyone ready?”

“Yep, nice to meet you guys, you have a beautiful home, thanks for the water and muffins!” they yelled, their voices collecting in a nearly incoherent jumble as they shuffled quickly out the front door.  Jonathan and Pumpkin followed, and once they had shut the door, Bat said, “I gotta admit, your parents are freaks.”

“Oh, I know,” responded Jonathan.  “How we’re related, I have no idea.”

“I know, right?” Pumpkin joined it.  “It’s not like you’re weird.  Not at all.”

The sun was already falling through the western sky, untouched by clouds that had traipsed across its eastern expanse most of the day.  The small town, wedged between verdant mountains in the west and rolling hills to the east, was quiet.  Save for the seven companions, the streets were empty.  They took the main road north toward open country, and each member felt the silence covering the land like a blanket.  Jonathan, though hopeful about his quest with his weapon now in hand, and with the knowledge that a proficient swordsman partook in the company, could not help but feel dismal.  There was nothing remarkable about the yards of the homes around him; it seemed that, once people had lost their holiday spirit, they had all taken down their festive Halloween décor and left their yards in their usual state.  Jonathan remembered the many years of trick-or-treating that lay behind him.  His parents used to guide him around the neighborhood on that night every year, bringing a bag with them that could only fit a few handfuls worth of candy.  Of course, they finally stopped this two years ago, finding it difficult to let go of their “little boy.”  The following year Ms. Unicorn accompanied him, but for some reason, she did not seem too interested in candy.  Last year he had gone with Awana, and they had a wonderful time.  He could not bear to think of the children in this town, or in any other, living without something so integral to the culture and growing up in general.

They traveled at an unhurried pace, talking little, except for the occasional screeches and meows exchanged between Bat and Cat.  Jonathan also asked them how it felt being storybook characters brought to life, but they seemed confused by the question.  Frankenstein’s monster was rather offended after hearing it, and he grew even quieter after muttering something about having been just as alive as any normal human for the entirety of his existence.  The green haze of the northern fields drew near; at that point they would take a left turn and follow a country road west until they reached the foothills.  From there, they would have to scout out the professor’s encampment, as even Kory Labarga himself had had no clue as to his exact whereabouts.  Jonathan imagined that this task would not prove difficult, for if they did not see the camp itself, he imagined that the experiments conducted in the mountain lab would give off some signal of its presence.

When they had come within a hundred yards of the country road, a strange sound pierced the air to their right.  The Halloween friends imagined that Professor Apo had conjured some foul beast from the deep abyss of his lab, and had now loosed it upon the innocent town.  Pumpkin gripped the handle of his sword with both hands.  Jonathan smirked.  He knew that voice.  They turned to the right and saw Awana sprinting down the front lawn of her house with a smile as large as the sun, waving her arms in the air.  Along the way she tripped on a tree root and fell on some rocks lining the outer edge of the yard, scraping her knee severely and bruising various other parts of her body.  She rose almost instantly, none of her excitement depleted from the unfortunate accident.  Then she limped her way to the group and, holding the bloody mess that was her left knee, she said, “Hey there, Johnny boy” in a voice that one could almost consider seductive.  Almost.

“Hey,” he replied, running his finger over the toy unicorn.  “Is your knee ok?”

“Oh.  My.  Gosh.  You are such a sweetie for asking!  It’ll be fine.  Though I might need stitches…or some complicated and expensive surgery.”  She wiped her running nose and looked at the confused faces behind her friend.  “Who are they?” Her voice swelled with jealousy.
            “Oh, um….” Jonathan sounded guilty.  “Awana, these are my new friends! Of course, they’ll never be as close to me as you are.” He was relieved when he noticed that his friend almost swooned at his words.  “This is Pumpkin, and Witch, and Ghost, and Frankenstein’s monster, and Bat, and Cat.  Guys, say hello to Awana!”

“Hey, Awana.” The tone of their voices betrayed their lack of excitement.

“Great,” Ghost whispered to Pumpkin.  “Another mouth to feed.”

“Ghost, you don’t even eat!” Pumpkin looked at him.  “As a matter of fact, I don’t, either! And our journey is only a couple miles.  It’s not like we have to trek across a vast country and scrounge up rations so we can survive just one more day.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Pumpkin.”

“So, Johnny boy,” Awana addressed the boy, swaying in a romantic fashion.  The blood from her knee was now pooling on the street.  “What are you guys up to?”

“We’re going on an adventure!” he told her, thrilled to be able to say it to someone whose opinion mattered so much to him.  “We’re traveling to the mountains and stopping an evil man from destroying something that is very precious to me…and to you.  And to millions of kids and childish adults everywhere!”

“And what would that be?”

“A holiday.  Did you know that there is a holiday today?”

Awana sighed.  “Johnny, didn’t we talk about this earlier? You know, in part one of this story? No, I would know if today was a holiday.  I’m all about holidays.  Go…Thanksgiving! Woot!”

The Halloween friends shook their heads and continued their northward march.  Jonathan laughed.  “No, today is supposed to be a holiday called Halloween.  But no one in this town knows that.  On this holiday, you dress up in a wild costume and go door to door….”

“Like a traveling prostitute?”

“Um…no, not quite.  You dress up like something spooky.  A ghost, a demon, a dead cheerleader, et cetera.  Then you go door to door, and adults give you candy after you say, ‘Trick or treat!’”

“That sounds like a good way to get kidnapped.”  Awana looked worried.  “And if not, then can’t adults easily poison the candy?”

Jonathan looked thoughtful.  “Maybe that’s why I had symptoms strangely similar to food poisoning after trick-or-treating a few years ago….Anyway, you have to trust me.  Kids everywhere dress up and go out together at night, and have an awesome time walking around and getting candy.  It’s been a part of our culture for so long, and now this evil jerk has stolen the Halloween spirit from everyone in town! I need to stop him.  Are you with me?”

She drew close to him and touched his arm.  “Johnny boy, you’re making me all…excited with your brave words and talk of such a dangerous holiday.  Of course I’m with you! Let’s stop this guy and get Halloween back!”

“Yeah!” Johnny cried, holding Ms. Unicorn high in the air.

“You brought Ms. Unicorn? Good God, Johnny, you mean business, don’t you?”

“You know it.” He grinned, and then brought the toy back down to waist level.  “Well, if you’re going to come with us, we need to get going.  My friends are already at the field.”

“One second, please!’ she exclaimed, and she ran back toward her house.  “I’m just going to grab a band-aid and a first-aid kit.  And maybe a cast.”

            “I’ll be here,” said Jonathan.  “And when you’re done, we’ll take the fight to Professor Apo!”