“Halloween is the true magic. It is the night we discover who we really are.” -Byron Orpheus
“Nice costume! Who’s it supposed to be?” Olivia said, grinning lopsidedly at her friend. Cade’s blood rushed up to his cheeks, completing his menacing visage.
“I… am… Dracula!” he bellowed, his garbage bag cape billowing from a convenient burst of wind.
Olivia laughed and punched him in the arm, none too lightly. “What’s the matter, Nos-fart-u? Did you impale your tailors as well?”
Cade grinned at her, showing his flimsy plastic fangs. “I’m just being creative and thrifty. Besides, better than your costume!”
Olivia smiled and leaned back against the wall, drawing the hoodie around her head. “I dressed up as Liv. She’s my cooler alter ego. One who wouldn’t go trick or treating at 24.”
“Where’s your Halloween Spirit! It’s been so long since we were both in town together. And when was the last time we went trick or treating!”
Olivia tilted her head to the side, shadows drawing across her face. With one hand she absent-mindedly fiddled with her silver cross necklace. “Spirit. You know that the ancient Celts – don’t make a shitty joke Cade I’m giving you a history lesson – used to think that Halloween was a night where the barrier between our world and worlds not our own was at its thinnest; they called it Samhain. They’d do everything they could to appease the spirits: bake them cakes, dance around the fire –Cade I really don’t want to hear it—and so on. I wonder what they’d think of Halloween now.”
She gazed out idly at the neighborhood. It was a creature of its own, a being composed of laughter, gaudily wrapped candy, plastic masks with fangs bared, scented candles, and that ubiquitous phrase: “Trick or Treat!”. Light from the Jack o’Lanterns bathed over the trick or treaters, casting an orange glow over a sea of masks.
“Hey look, Old Man Galen put out a Jack o’Lantern this year! Do you think he’s finally bit the bullet and put out some candy too?” Cade grinned at her as he began to walk to the nearby house. It was an old and imposing Victorian style house, and unlike the rest of the neighborhood the only source of light coming from the house was from the solitary Jack o’Lantern sitting on the porch steps.
“Cade, wait. We shouldn’t bother him. You know he hates Halloween, and especially trick-or-treaters.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” Cade said with a slinking mischievousness to his voice, ”but this time, I have a treat for him.”
Turning around, he flicked his garbage bag cape aside to reveal a several rolls of toilet paper.
“Cade, you can’t be fucking serious. I’m not going to let you—Caden, get back here!”
Reluctantly she followed him. Cade began to survey the house.
“Cade,” Olivia hissed, “let’s get out of here. This is stupid.”
Ignoring her, Cade readied a roll to launch. The wind had stirred up again, and Olivia shivered through her hoodie. She heard a faint creak and glanced down to the Jack o’Lantern to see its eyes flickering wildly. Its grin seemed malicious. A sharp sound echoed from behind her, and Olivia yelped and recoiled into Cade.
A raven. The large bird perched on the porch, regarding her with flint black eyes. Maybe it was her imagination, but Olivia thought the bird was expecting something from her.
“Ow! Okay fine, we can go. Just let me—”
The lights vanished in a singular moment from the entire neighborhood. Olivia screamed this time, and Cade shouted obscenities. The air around them grew freezing, and Olivia could see her breath streaming out in the moonlight. There was screaming and shouting from kids and parents alike on the street.
Olivia could hear muffled chanting coming from inside the house. Cade began to pound his fist against the door. She froze, wanting to do something, anything, but finding herself unable to move. Without warning there was a concussive burst of force and the front door was flung open, knocking Cade to his feet. Then just silence and darkness. Not even the moon shone, as if it were holding its breath.
One by one, the Jack o’Lanterns across the street lit up.
Cade groaned and tried to rise to his feet. “What… what just happened. Am I dead?”
Olivia grabbed his arm and hefted him up. “Not yet. But we need to leave, right now. Unless you want to be turned into a Halloween costume.”
Cade looked up to a sky void of light, blood trickling out of his mouth. “I don’t think running is an option. We need to talk to Old Man Galen.”
“You. Need. To. Run.”
Both Olivia and Cade froze as the words floated from the darkness to their ears, sounding stitched together from their own speech. A hunched over figure shifted slowly into the light cast by the Jack o’Lantern. It was an emaciated skeleton, wearing dirty brown rags for clothes. It’s face…
Cade retched behind her. “Is tha—no, no, no, no. Tri—Trisha?”
The figure cocked its head to the side. Plastered to its skeletal head like a gruesome mask was the terrified face of Trisha Porter, a secretary from their high school.
“Trisha,” the creature cooed, shuddering in delight.
“Trisha,” Olivia croaked, tears streaming down her face.
“Let’s go inside, Olivia. Slowly.”
“Inside,” the creature hissed, its rags twitching and unfolding. Olivia realized they weren’t rags, but rather sinewy wings. The face of Trisha made a squelching noise as flesh twisted to resemble a frown.
Olivia wanted to move, but once again she found her feet frozen to the ground. Even as Cade tugged at her arm and the creature inched closer into the light, she couldn’t move…
With a sudden burst of movement, Cade grabbed Olivia and roughly wrenched her behind the door. The creature screamed and lunged towards them, but Cade pivoted to slam the door shut. The creature impacted, there was another scream, then silence.
Cade stood against the door, heaving. Olivia’s eyes darted around the room, landing on the macabre altar of skulls, candles, and an open tome at its center. Old Man Galen lay face down beside it, blood pooling around the carpet.
“Oh hey, trick-or-treaters! How do you like the decorations? I made them myself!”
Another skeleton slipped out from the kitchen, carrying a glass of Irish Whiskey. He had a shabby tweed jacket, muddy trousers, and a flat cap. The surprised face of Old Man Galen was stretched across his skull, and in his other hand he carried a turnip that had burning coals resting in a crudely carved out face. Olivia felt her blood run cold with recognition.
Cade tensed. “Who are you, and why are you wearing a senior citizen’s face?”
“His name is Stingy Jack.” Olivia whispered, backing behind Cade. “He’s the legend Jack o’Lanterns are based off of.”
Jack peeled off the face of Old Man Galen and gave a little flourish, his naked skull somehow grinning.
“Stingy Jack, at your service! Tricker of the devil not once, but twice! He ended up getting the better of me in death though.” Jack wrapped Galen’s face around his skull again. “Unlike someone you know. Did he really think that summoning me would be as easy as the average Slaugh you see running -er- flying around? Ah well. What’s the saying? Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes your immortal soul gets dragged into Perdition a bit early.”
He took a swig of the whiskey and lounged across a recliner, propping his feet on Galen’s body.
“Perdition?” Cade said, stepping closer towards Jack. “What does that mean? What are you going to do with them?”
Jack gave a raspy laugh that rattled his bones. “You’re going to find out real soon kid. Perdition ain’t a pretty place.” He took another swig. “You know, this tastes like shit. I guess you just get unrealistic expectations after 300-odd years. It would probably help if I had taste buds too.”
Cade stepped forward, fists clenched, but Olivia grabbed his arm.
“Cade, we need to go. Now.”
Jack laughed again, emptying the glass and tossing it behind him. The whiskey trickled from his clothes and seeped into the couch.
“Listen to the broad, buddy. Sure, you could defeat me and send me back to Perdition, which would plop everyone’s souls back into their bodies good as new, but you can’t fight me. What are you gonna do, kill me? I died a long time ago.”
Cade grimaced, but he didn’t move. “Fine. So you must like games then right? Let’s make a wager. You win, you can drag me into the Perdition or whatever. I win, you leave, and give everyone back their souls.”
Jack stroked his chin, dislodging some pieces of flesh. “Hmm, tempting. But I think I’ll just take your soul instead.”
With a flash Jack rose from the chair and placed his outstretched bony head on Cade’s forehead. His entire body went limp and slumped against the wall. Jack removed his hand to reveal two empty sockets.
Olivia stood petrified, taking quick breaths. This was how she died. Jack was going to take her and Cade’s soul, along with everyone else on the block, and they’d be cast into burning fire of Perdition. She had a vision of her Mother watching her from the window of a burning house, long black hair singed and her silver cross necklace gleaming in the orange light cast by the flames.
Jack stepped over Cade’s body to retrieve the Jack o’Lantern outside. It had Cade’s eyes. They were moving.
“Pretty cool right.” Jack grinned, tossing the pumpkin up and down, “Any last words? Other than: AHHHHHHHHHHHH, please don’t kill me!”
As Jack’s hand stretched towards her forehead Olivia grasped at her necklace, wanting her last thoughts to be of her mother’s smile.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH!” Jack recoiled, his hand sizzling. He looked at her accusingly. “That hurt!”
Olivia’s hand felt warm. She looked down to see her necklace glowing softly.
“The cross.” Olivia breathed, “You tricked the devil with it once. But now it’s harmful to you.”
Jack glared at her. Then his face broke into a voracious grin.
“Ahahhahaha! Oh you are lucky. I guess you don’t die today after all. Good for you.”
Olivia lunged forward to grab him, but he danced out of the way lithely.
He turned to leave but hesitated on the steps. “The devil gave me a light after I died. It only feels right to pay it forward. Cheerio!”
Jack sat the pumpkin down and strode away into darkness.
Olivia collapsed. Everything had been taken away from her so quickly. She felt like the same scared and helpless little girl who watched her house burn into ash. She could run. But she couldn’t save the people she cared about. She wasn’t good enough to save her Mom, and she wasn’t good enough to save Cade.
She looked down at the Jack o’Lantern—at Cade’s—eyes, and even though he couldn’t talk Olivia knew exactly what he was saying. He wanted her to run, to save herself. She considered it, for longer than a moment. She couldn’t overpower Jack physically. She wasn’t smart enough to trick him. She wasn’t good enough.
Olivia gripped her necklace so hard she feared she would snap the cross in half. She remembered her Mother holding her, telling her that she was so beautiful and smart and strong, and she couldn’t wait to see her grow up into an amazing woman. Her Mother would never see it.
“Because that woman doesn’t exist,” a voice whispered in her head.
“No.” Olivia said, wiping away tears. “I don’t care if I’m not good enough. I’m the only hope these people have. And that will have to be enough.”
With a sudden frenzy of energy she tore into her backpack, looking for something, anything, to help her. She tossed aside school supplies, clothes, books and finally out of sheer anger threw her soccer cleats against the wood floor. The shoes created faint lines as they skidded across, finally laying to rest next to a wooden crown. Olivia froze. But this time, she had a plan.
Olivia walked outside an hour later, holding Pumpkin-Cade in her arms. All the Jack o’Lanterns were gone, but Pumpkin-Cade’s dim light showed bodies strewn across the street. Olivia didn’t look at them. Instead, her eyes focused on the crow. It was on the same spot on the railing, regarding her with those same piercing flint eyes.
“I need to find Jack so I can make things right. Can you lead me to him?”
The crow cawed and flapped away. Olivia sighed. She didn’t know why she thought that would work. It was just a crow.
Another caw came from the boundary of the forest. Olivia stepped out onto the street to see the bird watching her, perched on a branch. When she stepped closer, it flew further into the woods.
Olivia followed the crow until she reached a clearing in the woods. A large bonfire stood in the center, and the Jack o’Lanterns scattered around the clearing illuminated hundreds of winged monstrosities. Dozens of Slaughs danced around the fire with stolen faces, their wingbeats twisting and sputtering smoke which drifted into the void sky. They snarled and whistled and screamed as their forms whirled together. Jack sat on a throne of piled-up bodies, in one hand his turnip and the other a glass of red wine.
“Our guest of honor arrives!” he beckoned her closer. “Come, enjoy the festivities! You must try this wine—I think it’s called Merlot?”
“Thanks,” Olivia said, her voice steady, “But I’m here to challenge you to a wager, Jack.”
Jack sighed and twirled his turnip. “Can we just skip this part? I’m not going to play anymore games when I’m the one on top. Literally. You’ve got nothing that—”
“I offer up my own soul willingly. If you win, I’ll take on your debt that you owe the devil. If you lose, you leave and everyone else gets their soul back.”
Jack regarded her intently. The chattering died down until only the crackling of the fire could be heard.
“A very tempting offer. One I don’t think you quite fully grasp. Perdition and Hell are two different things you know.” He stepped down from his putrid throne and walked over to her. “But I’m not stupid. You have a trick up your sleeve.”
“No trick.” Olivia said, smiling faintly. “Just a crown.” She pulled the wooden crown from her backpack, carefully holding it near the front. “The loser crowns the winner as part of the wager.”
Jack’s eyes lingered on her hand. After a moment he grinned and stuck out his own. “It’s a deal.”
Olivia grasped his hand firmly, and blue flames raced across both their arms with an unholy hiss.
Jack stepped back and began to dance an Irish Jig, his steps like lightning bolts, leaving no imprint behind. He danced gracefully, fluidly, his movements accompanied by the crooning and moaning of Slaughs in turn. On the last step, Jack bowed and flourished his cap, which was brimming with tiny orange spheres.
“Your turn.”
Olivia hesitantly placed the backpack on the ground. Taking a shaky breath, she began to dance. Her movements were clumsy, and even though the cleats gave her more grip, they left jagged lines in the wet mud. She tripped on the last step, mud splattering all over her hoodie as she impacted the ground.
Cruel laughter rang out from the clearing. “Good try, good try at least!” Jack strode towards her, “But I think we all know who won. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking that soul…”
His hand stretched outward but Olivia spit at him. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Jack?”
“Oh, you wish. The crown. Or rather, should I say a crown.”
One of the Slaughs flapped down, dropping a paper crown from a nearby body in her hands. Olivia’s backpack was nowhere to be seen.
“Carving a cross in a crown.” Jack said malevolently, “You really didn’t think I’d see through that? I’ve been tricking people before your grandmother was in the womb.”
He stepped closer —inside the ground torn by Olivia’s cleats— and the face of Galen melted off his skull, revealing glowing coal eyes. “Now crown the winner and forfeit your eternal soul, little girl.”
Olivia threw the crown in the mud and stepped behind Jack, sliding her cleats across the ground to complete her work. “Fuck you.”
Jack snarled and lunged towards her, but he bounced off an invisible barrier. Beneath him the shape of a crude cross Olivia had drawn with her cleats while dancing began to glow softly.
“Wha… what? No. No. NO! YOU CHEATED!”
“You lost. Leave.”
Jack screamed as his body began to fly apart, orange shapes spilling from his cap. The Slaughs began to scream and dissolve, their bones melting into goo. Just before she lost consciousness, Olivia saw the crow looking at her. It was a crow, but it was also a beautiful woman with long dark hair and a lovely smile. Then the world dissolved into orange.
Olivia woke up with a jolt. She scanned the clearing, which she realized was now a crater in the earth. All that remained of Jack was a smoldering turnip, with coals burning in its carved-out center.
Beside her Cade groaned and rose to his feet. Dozens of people above the crater were rising and milling about.
“Did we… did we win? Did you beat Jack?”
Olivia picked up the turnip and held it in her hand. She had tricked Jack, but she still lost the contest. He’d be back to collect her soul.
“One more year, Olivia.” Jack whispered in her head.
“Yeah,” she smiled at Cade, “Now let’s go TP Old Man Galens house.”