“So tell us ______, what is your favourite monster?” The boys looked at you expectantly. “Oh, I don’t know…” “She loves werewolves of course!” Matthew shouted out. “What? Why should she like those mongrels?” Francis pouted. “Because they are fluffy, asshole! They’re strong and protect their mates.” “Like you would ever get a mate...” Alfred interrupted him. “Fuck off, shit-stain! How about a little respect for your older brother?!” “I’ll show you respect when I shove my bat up your…” “Stop it!” Arthur didn’t like brothers fighting, and for some reason you hadn’t understood so far they actually respected him, despite his love for pink and baby-blue clothes. Not to forget about the baking… “Francis, is you don’t like werewolves, then what is your favourite Hollywood-monster?” “The vampire, naturellement. He’s the incarnation of might, can control others only with his mind and he’s sexy – just like me!” With that, he threw himself into a pose, only giving his friends fits of laughter. Only Arthur, the oldest of you all, could hold onto himself and giggled: “Aww, come on guys, don’t be like that, Of course he’s sexy – just look at his pretty hair!”
You all remained silent for a second, only to burst out in laughter then, even louder than before. “Oh yeah,” Alfred cackled “this pretty, pretty floating gold, how could we only miss it? I’m so sorry! You should just dress up as a lion for Halloween Franny, with all your body-hair you wouldn’t even need a costume!” “Oh tais-toi , enfoiré! What are you going to represent, anyway?!”
“The coolest monster ever – a zombie! They are bloody and gory and…” “…eat flesh?” You giggled. “Al, I really don’t think that this is your internal monster.” “What do you know?! They’re strong as hell, bashing in doors like it’s nothing and mutilating people, they rock!” “Yeah, whatever…” You rolled your eyes. Movie-monsters. Weren’t you all a little too old for this?
“Arthur, what about you? Bought your princess-dress already?” “Ha-ha-ha, very funny Alfie. I’ll probably just dress up as Freddy Krueger, for I’ll have to chase you kids through the whole town eventually. You would just go “tricking” the neighborhood otherwise. Unless ________ wants to join us?” “No, thank you.” You sighed. “I’ll just stay home and watch some movies, trying to prevent my decoration from getting raped. And it’s not like I’m into monsters, anyway. They are not real. All this supernatural stuff is just…hilarious. Sorry to disappoint you guys. We have more serious stuff to do now, anyway. The break’s almost over. Let’s go.”
By evening, you’ve actually had enough of everyone around you talking about costumes, candy, alcohol and…seriously. Sex in those costumes. What the hell, guys?! However, it was finally Thursday evening – Halloween! – and the best part was, tomorrow would be off. That way, you could stay up all night, watch some movies or DVDs and, after all the candy-collectors were gone, eat the remaining sweets. You stayed alone thought, but that way you could at least protect your carefully-carved pumpkins.
You put on a comfortable (favourite color) dress and some glowing red devil-horns (people shouldn’t be able to say you didn’t try) and placed yourself on the couch, a bowl of popcorn and the remote-control in front of you. But just as expected, you didn’t really get to sit down and enjoy a movie. Your doorbell was lucky to have a break of five minutes with all the ghosts, goblins, knights and animals hoarding at your door.
Yet you enjoyed seeing them eagerly collecting their candy, already calling dibs on the sweets of their friends for the purpose of later trading. It reminded you of your childhood, when you would go from door to door with your friends. You were always so proud of your costumes. But the fun in Halloween vanished when you realized that everybody got the same compliments from their neighbors and that ghosts and monsters weren’t real. It was sad, but with those illusions gone, you just didn’t feel like trick-or-treating anymore.
As your mind went on through its happy childhood-memories, the amount of visitors became less, until it was eleven o’clock p.m. and only the pumpkin-bashers still roamed the streets. You finally sat down in front of your TV and enjoyed the television emission of (favourite Horror-movie).
The clock claimed it was already 3 a.m. in the morning when you startled up in pure darkness. You had fallen asleep on the couch during some old-ass movie, whose title you couldn’t remember. Still wandering what had woken you up, you hears a noise.
What was that? Cautiously you got up and sneaked through the gloom, towards what you expected to be the cause of it.
Indeed – the faucet was dripping. You giggled about your own fear, as you heard a voice in the living room. You went back to find the TV being turned on again – hadn’t it been turned off when you woke up? There was this eco-friendly electricity…saving…something installed that made the television fall into sleep mode when…
He sound came from upstairs. You started to feel nervous and went to the kitchen, grabbing the largest butcher-knife you could find. Making your way to where the noise came from you climbed the stairs – you had to protect your house, after all. Checking room by room, the knife always raised, you couldn’t find anything. Maybe it was just the branch of a tree crushing against a window or the roof? You resisted the urge to call out loud whether there was anybody around, instead making your way back downstairs to search for the telephone. Just to make sure, of course.
But the loading-station was empty. Had you left it somewhere else?
Thinking about this you turned around to find the TV turned off again – had you turned it off again before going upstairs? Being unnerved by the goddamned thing you pulled its plug out. Enough was enough!
In search for the telephone you ran through the whole house, turning on every light switch you found to make sure you would see everyone and everything moving through your domicile. But you found nothing.
Then you finally realized how dumb you must look right now. Running through your home like a headless chicken, scared of your own shadow. Although the explanation was oh, so easy! You had fallen asleep sitting on the remote control, getting up you accidentally pressed a button waking it up from sleep mode, hearing the bang upstairs you had turned it off again, but you forgot that you had done it because your mind was so occupied with that dumb noise. That was caused by nothing but the dumb branch of a dumb tree hitting against the dumb window because of the dumb wind, and the phone was never there when you needed it!
You laughed relieved. No more candy before going to sleep, it made your mind play weird tricks on you. You should just call it a night and go to bed, and so you did.
But you didn’t notice your vanished underwear as you got out of the shower and put on your pyjama.
You didn’t notice that the TV was plugged back in when you went down again to get a glass of water.
Neither did you notice that it tasted a little strange after you left it alone on your nightstand for a few minutes to brush your teeth.
You did notice that you weren’t lying in your bed when you woke up, thought. You felt the cold, and smelled the dust. You opened your eyes to find yourself in your own basement. As your sight adjusted to the darkness you saw the old mirror that you had stashed down there years ago, and that was reflecting your image now. Your pyjama was gone, all you were wearing were your bra and your panties.
That much skin exposed, you saw the biting marks. Three, to be exact:
One on your neck, that showed two bloody holes, as left from fangs.
One on your waist – a circle of small, sharp teeth had been digging into your skin.
The third one was on your thigh. The dental impression looked almost human.
“Still searching for your telephone?” The voice sounded familiar…Matthew?
“Or messing with your TV?” Francis?
“What, too startled by a little bang to answer?” Alfred?
“No guys. I guess she just forgot to check her candy…” Arthur chuckled, it sounded almost vicious.
“Wha…what are you guys doing here?” was all you managed to say.
“Teaching you about monsters. ‘Cause they are real. Don’t you know? And oh – look! You’ve already been bitten by some.”
“I see…” you said, your mind still tranquilized. “Guess that were you guys…let me see…”
You rubbed your eyes and sat up. “Of course…the wild werewolf…the sexy vampire…the strong zombie, and… a fairy?!”
“I’m the poisonous fairy from Candyland!” Arthur giggled.
Matthew reached you his hands, helped you up and leaned you against a wall. Then he whispered into your ear: “Those biting marks might not be real, you know…but this knife might be.” He pulled a pocketknife out of seemingly nowhere and pressed it against your throat.
“I…I told you guys I’m not into…” you stuttered, but Matthew interrupted you. “Nooo…uhhh…uhhh…” he chirped, wiggling his fingers in front of your face, “you won’t get away like this. And I’ll only ask you one last time…So, tell us ____________, what is your favourite monster?”