Halloween Game the Sixth

    On October 31, 2005, a group of kids (none more than 15 years old) met at Archie Hoosendouffer’s house to play video games.  Archie was your stereotypical snobby, rich kid (‘cause his dad, whom he hadn’t seen since August, owned a dealership), and the ragtag group of friends he had collected were:

        Steven Anderson, 15, a nerdy science student with a love for video games (played by John)
        Al, 15, a kid from the streets with a heart of gold and sticky fingers (Will)
        Tommy Hogie, 12, a reincarnation of Dennis the Menace, complete with dog whistle (Paul)
        And a creepy kid with a lighter (played by Scott)

    Everything was going well until Archie whipped out an old black NES cassette with no label, saying, “This creepy old guy at the rental store said this one was the ultimate thriller game.”  As soon as he popped it in, the room went dark, and the next thing the kids knew, they were in the middle of a deserted two-lane highway nearby a tall green highway sign, featuring several holes from a shotgun, that read, “Welcome to Halloweentowne.”
    Reactions were mixed.  Some wanted to walk toward the distant lights of town, others to stay put, and at least two to beat up Archie for getting them into this mess.  Archie swears, ‘cause he thinks it makes him look cool, and eventually they decide to head toward the lights.
    After a few minutes of walking, headlights appeared coming out of town.  It came closer, and then flashed lights on the roof, revealing it to be an out of date police car.  Al ran into the woods away from the police (as one learns in the streets, apparently), Scott hid in the ditch, while the rest stayed on the road.  The car stopped, and a past-middle-aged policeman stuck his head out the window.  “What’re you boys doing out here in the middle of the night?”
    Steven explained that they just suddenly appeared, the cop mumbled something and offered a ride back to town.  Tommy, Steven, and Archie decide to take it.  Archie demands the front seat, leaving Steven and Tommy in the back with the icky plastic-covered seats.
    “We’ll head back in a bit,” the cop told them, “first I got to look into something.  Old man Johnson called in about weird noises coming from Old Mill Road.  You boys can stay in the car.”
    “You should take us back now,” Archie replied, “because my dad owns a dealership.”
    The cop ignored him and turned up the radio, which was playing country music.
    “This song sucks,” Archie said.
    The cop replied, “Yeah, well, so do you.”  (Thus winning a coolness point with Paul.)
    As the car drove down the road past a clearing with a bonfire and blaring gothy music (“Bunch of no-good teens,” as the policeman says), Al came upon his own discovery in the woods.  He is attacked by a were-puma, which nearly bites his head off at the temple.  Fortunately, Scott heard his shouts, attacked from behind with his pocket knife, and the two are able to fight it off, sending it scampering back into the woods with a wounded flank, back leg, and eye.  Al, meanwhile, bandaged up his head as best he could with his bandana and other scraps.
    Things in the cop car went better for a while, till something hit the windshield, leaving a big green smear.  After using the wipers, the cop turned off the highway onto a dirty road with a creaking wooden bridge and an old, half-rotten windmill with broken sails that seemed to move only when one was not looking.
    “Wait here,” the cop said, stopping the car in front of the windmill.  The three boys complied, as the cop stepped out, grabbed his big flashlight, and approached the dusty mill.  Shoving the door aside with a grinding “shwff”, he stepped inside.  Things were quiet for a moment, and then came a terrible, guttural groan.  The cop’s scream followed, along with gunshots.  After the boys exchanged worried glances, they turned back to see the cop staggering out of the mill, missing one of his arms.
    A monstrous scarecrow followed, appearing from the shadows into the beams from the car’s headlights.  He stood seven feet tall, with huge, wicker arms and oversized hands made of foul twigs.  Dirty hay popped through the broken seams in his rags and moldy leather.  His painted face seemed smeared on the sackcloth, forming an evil sneer.  The scarecrow caught the cop in a massive hand and then descended onto him, tearing out the man’s flesh as if it were hay.
    (It was here that Paul failed his “don’t wet pants” roll.)
    “Get us out of here!” Tommy screamed at Archie, who was frozen.  Steven tried the doors, but, as with most police cars, there is no exit from inside the back seat.  After some more screams, Archie dove into the driver’s seat and slammed the car into gear.
    And promptly crashed directly into the scarecrow with a loud thump following by the whirring of tires that were now lifted into the air.  Fortunately, the crash popped one of the doors open in the back, and Steven and Tommy fled the car.  Running as quickly as their adolescent legs could carry them, they headed across the bridge and back to the main road, peeking back only to see Archie screaming and the scarecrow tearing the hood off the front of the car from underneath.
    Finally, the scarecrow shifted enough so the tires met the ground, and the car was freed.  Archie drove away in a panic, fleeing down the road, and leaving Tommy and Steven behind.  With nothing else to do, the two jog down the road after him.
    Al and Scott, meanwhile, spend their time setting fire to the forest.  After a good fire builds, they head back to the road see a beaten up cop car go screaming toward town.  Not long afterward, they meet Tommy and Steven, and the four head toward the lights of Halloweentowne.
    After a mile or so of walking, headlights appear coming from town.  The boys try to hide, but the driver seemed to spot Tommy.  The car (which seems to be a modified armored bank truck) slowed down, stopped, and then reversed so the driver is parallel with Tommy.  A man with scraggly hair and a grizzled beard and wearing an overshirt and an old band t-shirt, asked, “Hey, did you just appear here?”
    Tommy said he did, and the man shouted, “Then get in the truck, quick!”
    As if he had never seen an afterschool special, Tommy hurriedly jumped into the truck with the mysterious stranger.  At least he made no mention of his three friends still hiding in the ditch.  The man sped away toward town, while the three waited till he was gone to walk again.
    It was not long after the disappearance of Tommy that a third set of headlights appeared, this one coming from outside of town.  They belonged to a large, shiny new Ford with huge floodlights on top of the cab.  The truck whizzed past them, its brakes squealed, and it spun around to a stop.
    Then, with Al’s keen street-ears, he heard the “thwip” of a silenced gun and the crack of a bullet against wood in the trees just beyond them.  The three screeched and scattered, hiding among the trees.
    “Hey, lemme go after ‘em!” a hickish voice called from the truck.
    “Nah, it’ll take too long,” another voice replied.  “Come on, let’s head into town.  There’s plenty of people to catch up to our daddies’ record.”
    With that, the truck sped away, and the three crept out of the woods, shaken, but not stirred.
    Tommy, meanwhile, was having a better time.  As Greg Weiss drove to his house, he explained the rules and monsters of Halloweentowne, and why the boy was suddenly trapped in this crazy, evil world.  They got back to Greg’s house/compound and found a gremlin pop up from under the hood.  Greg shot at it, pinning it under the car, and Tommy succeeded in beating it with a fire extinguisher.
    “Nice job,” Greg told Tommy.  “We’ll get you a change of clothes and suited up, then I’ll drive you through town to find your monster.”  He sighed and added, “But we’ll need to make a stop at the bank.”
    While Tommy was getting a nine-millimeter for the first time, the other three at last came into Raven Oaks, the first housing addition on the outskirts of Halloweentowne.  Kids were out with their parents, merrily going trick-or-treating.  The kids, meanwhile, were looking for something to steal.  (Al’s heart of gold had become a heart of stone from the incident with the were-puma.)
    Just as they came upon a man and his Lexis SUV that had let his fairy princess daughter out to get some candy, a strange buzzing began at the end of the street.  The buzzes gave way to screams as people tried to flee the Swarm of flesh-eating flies.  Al jumped into action, throwing the door to the car open and demanding to the driver with his knife, “Your car or your life!”
    The man fled his car, and the three piled in, driving away and leaving the poor trick-or-treaters behind to their flesh-eating doom.  (It wasn’t very nice.)  But, anyway, they drove around aimlessly for a while, seeing strange glints flying in the patchy clouds or in the light of the full moon, till they came to the Halloweentowne Mall, where there was a small carnival going on in the parking lot.  Seeing the sign for Bob’s Outdoor Supplies, the three decided to go get themselves some bigger weaponry.
    Al, taking a note from the Blues Brothers, drove directly into the mall, whipping around sunglasses stands and tossing people out of their way till they came to a halt in front of Bob’s.  Al and Scott left the car, and Steven stayed inside to sleep (which, after seeing a man ripped to shreds by a living scarecrow, being shot at, and participating in grand theft auto, is exactly what I would do… ?!?!).  They barely made it inside the store before mall security and Bob (dressed in a hunter’s uniform) descended upon them and arrested them.  Steven went more peaceably, asking a Pakistani officer if he could call his parents to get a ride home.
    Al and Scott were frisked of their lighters and knives and thrown into the detention cell.  The rest of the security team was called off for some kind of disturbance in the food court, leaving the Pakistani guard and Steven trying to get an outside line, though the phones seemed broken.
    With the guard’s back to the detention room, Al and Scott suddenly found black ooze dripping out of the air ducts.  It sizzled against anything organic, almost as if it were digesting it on the spot.  Al and Scott started banging against the sound-proof glass till Steven finally alerted the guard.
    “Oh my goodness!” the guard shouted.  He rushed with the keys, let the others out, and then suddenly found himself locked inside thanks to Al’s quick shove.  Screams followed as the guard (only trying to do his job and help some ruffians) was eaten.
    The three broke the lock on the locker holding the guns to find themselves some weapons.  As they worked, the ooze then began to squeeze its way through the tiny holes in the door, and the three hurried out into the hallway leading to the rest of the mall.
    After a few steps, they found themselves in the food court, where bodies lay scattered and tables overturned.  Two figures dressed in the best in civilian body armor, hunter’s flannel, boots, upturned infrared goggles, and cowboy hats and wielding massive rifles with silencers stand on top of a decorative fountain, shooting bullets everywhere.  Their gaze immediately locked on the three boys.
    Though they tried to fight back, the boys are outgunned, and Al and Steven were shot down (with Al “bravely” using Steven as a body shield).  Scott ran away, and the two took up pursuit.
    “Get ‘im!” the taller one called.
    Scott rushed toward the stolen SUV till he remembered Al had the keys.  Instead, he ran past a confused Bob (who had only moments till he himself met the serial killer hicks) and out into the deserted carnival parking lot.  After hurrying past a few rides looking for a place to hide, he dashed into an old haunted house ride called “Tunnel of Terror.”
    Scott rushed past a few terribly artificial cobwebs and listened to a replay track of howls till he came to the first life-sized diorama.  It was of an old haunted house with a creepy hag mannequin and fluttering paper bats blown by ill-hidden fans.  Raising his gun and walking quietly, Scott crept toward the mannequin to ensure it was not moving.  As he came close, however, it leaped to life as a monstrous old woman who charged him with .  And then, it all went black for Scott.
    All this time, Greg and Tommy had gotten their gear together and headed out in Greg’s truck to do an errand (well, rob a bank to supply Greg with enough money to buy black market weapons to fight monsters next year).  Greg drove expertly, dodging werewolves and mummies till he came to Halloweentowne First National Bank, which, of course, was next door to the Halloweentowne Blood Bank Depository.
    “It’s all right,” Greg mumbled to Tommy.  “It’s all federally insured, and the money would have been used to pay national guard to fight monsters anyway.  I’m just cutting out the middle man.”
    Tommy agreed, and the two stepped out of the car.  Just after Greg smashed the door open, a ‘40s Lincoln with suicide doors squealed to a stop outside the blood bank.  Gangsters in fedoras and long coats stomped out and charged into the depository.  One paused long enough to say, “Yous didn’t see nothin’.”
    As they disappeared into the building, Greg and Tommy entered the shadowy bank.  The alarm had gone off, but Greg assured Tommy that no cops would come this late in the evening.  As Tommy stood guard, Greg hurried into the broken vault, emptying the money bin but not touching the personal strong boxes.
    In the shadows several pairs of bright yellow Cats’ Eyes began staring at Tommy and purring.  Ethereal voices called to him, telling him to step into the darkness.  After a moment of temptation, Tommy fired into the shadow, and the eyes disappeared.
    “What was that?” Greg asked.  Tommy explained, and the elder robber said, “Ah, good call.”
    They rushed out to the street again, only to find the four gangsters standing in a row with their hands in their coat pockets.  One stepped forward and said, “In exchange for our silence, we think we should be privileged to a certain percentage of your haul.”
    Greg and Tommy froze.
    “Something like, ninety percent?”
    “Look, I really don’t want to start any trouble,” Greg said.  He motioned for Tommy to move to the other side of the truck.  “I got a kid here and—”
    The first vampire leaped toward him, hissing a vampiric battle cry.  Reacting with well honed reflexes, Greg splashes him with a water balloon.  Holy water balloon, that is, which left the vampire a screaming puddle.
    Tommy let a shot go, nicking one of the vampires.  Greg splashed another with a water balloon, and then staked a third as Tommy keeps them pinned with bullets.  The last one, heavily wounded with holy water, limped back to the car and fled.  Greg and Tommy exchanged nods, and they hurried back to Greg’s house.
    It was about this time that Scott awoke, finding himself strapped to a table next to a corpse.  After gasping, he turned to see the old crone and a limping mad scientist standing next to some cheesy-looking Jacob’s ladders and plasma balls.  Scott broke the half-rotten leather straps easily enough, and he ducked out of the diorama as quickly as he could.  The two chased after him.
    “No!” the scientist bellowed.  “We have to complete the life-transfer .”
    During a Scooby-Doo-esque montage of running through a cheesy vampire’s castle with a spring jumping out of a broken casket, Scott found himself in the last , where a mummy covered by dusty wraps was straining against a chain around its neck.      It moaned as it saw Scott, pulled, and the rusty chain broke free.  Now he ran out of the ride, into the dark parking lot, pursued by three grizzled carnival monsters.
    It was then that he met a tall, sallow man with scraggly black hair, wearing a black trench coat and a black hat, with his face turned toward the ground.  He looked up at Scott, showing that his sockets were covered with skin as if no eye had ever been there.  Scott reacted instantly, running away till he came upon a familiar-looking truck.
    The truck belonged to the hicks who were still shooting up the mall, and Scott decided for some revenge or something.  He shot open the gas tank and lit the fuel, blowing up the truck.  With a triumphant nod at the blaze, he hurried toward the street.
It was not long before a terribly beaten up police car driven by a frightened-looking young man appeared.  Scott flagged Archie down and clambered into the car.
    “I’ve figured out what to do,” Archie told him as they sped toward the outskirts.  “I’m just going to drive out of here.  We’ll find my dad, who owns a dealership, and we’ll sue this whole place!”
    Archie ignored him, and they drove out of the west side of town, into a wide open plain.  Everything was going well till the ghostly horde of Civil War soldiers opened fire on them.  Scott was hit in the shoulder by an invisible musket ball, making his arm go numb.
    “Maybe we should turn around,” Scott suggested.
    “No!” Archie screamed.  “I’m never going to stop till we find my dad and his dealer—”  It was then that an unseen giant hand grabbed Archie and dragged him away into the darkness.
    Scott leaped over into the now-empty driver’s seat and turned the car around under a hail of ghostly gunfire.  The tires were all quickly punctured, which caused Scott to announce, “Well, I can drive on rims!”
    And drive he did, just as Greg was driving till he and Tommy returned safely back to his house.  The safety did not last long, however, as a flying, ethereal galleon appeared in the sky and ghost pirates attacked.  The two fled, driving away as the galleon caught up after them with glowing, tattered sails and skeletons with peg legs and cutlasses leaped onto the top of the truck.  At last Greg drove through the fence surrounding the Halloweentowne Buddhist Temple, and the pirates were driven away by the sounds of monkish chanting.
    About this time, a beat up police car appeared and crashed similarly.  Scott burst forth triumphant, glad to be reunited with Tommy.  Greg is shocked to find out that there were others Tommy did not mention, but he lets it slide.  Unfortunately for the others, however, who did not survive even though Greg could have looked for them.
    As Scott told them of his adventures, Greg stopped him at the hicks in the mall.  Using his awesome Halloween powers, Greg puts two and two together.  “There were two hicks long ago who did the same thing.  If I didn’t know any better, and I don’t, .”
    “So, we need to go kill them,” Tommy said firmly.
    “Well, the truck’s banged up, probably broke an axel,” Greg said.  “And we can’t take your car.  Maybe the monks will lend us something.”
    After a few minutes, the three burst forth armed with leftovers from the truck (grenades and Scott gets a rifle and such) driving in the monks’ VW bus (nicknamed the Monk Mobile, the Meditation Machine, or the Buddha Bus, whichever you like).  Greg drove them through town, and they arrived back at the wreckage of the mall.  After a brief scan, they drove through the hole left by Al and into the mall itself.
    It is not long before they find Frankie and Jed, Jr., walking amidst their trophies outside a big clothing store.  A firefight ensued, with Scott nailing Jed, Jr., just before Frankie hit him in the other shoulder.  Scott finally passed out from blood loss and exhaustion, leaving young Tommy to finish the job.  Grenades are thrown as Greg drives in awkward circles, till at last a lucky shot blows Frankie from behind a check-out stand.
    Greg stopped the bus, and Tommy rushed toward the wounded, murderous hick.  Frankie’s hat was blown off, revealing her to be Francine, not Francis.  Apparently it is not only males who become killers fascinated with racking up a new record.  She strained for her gun while most of her limbs were broken and bleeding.  Finally Tommy stood over her and the two stared at one another.
    “I’m not wrong, ya know,” Frankie told the boy.  “People need killin’.  It’s like thinnin’ the herds.  The survivors are the strongest ones…” and so forth and so on.
    Tommy, however, smashed her face in with the butt of his rifle.  He just kept pounding and pounding till at last he found himself back in the real world, standing next to a bleeding, comatose Scott.

    The two were never quite the same again.  Tommy, with his newfound bloodlust, joined the Marines and served valiantly till he was forced to retire.  Scott, meanwhile, became a horror screenwriter (“where ever does he get his ideas?” they ask), but never fully regained the use of his arm wounded by a ghostly musket ball.  And neither of them ever knew what became of the mysterious man called Greg still left behind in Halloweentowne.


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