Musing: Halloween at the Johnson's- Part 1

[pre-story]Just a little peek at what Mr. Johnson and the girls get up to on halloween. [redacted][/pre-story]

“uUUURRN~!”
A deep, angry groan echoed from inside the house. Heavy, ponderous footfalls sounded, drawing closer and closer with every thud. The door suddenly flew open, a massive figure looming in the threshold, a flash of light illuminating its pallid, scarred features, the deep rumble of thunder following swiftly after. It stared down at the children before it from beneath a heavy brow marred by an oozing horizontal gash, held together by dozens of heavy-duty staples. An inhuman rage flashed in in its sunken, staring eyes. The filthy suit hanging off its hulking frame was in tatters, the sleeves shredded to ragged strips around the monster’s powerful limbs. The creature moved stiffly, awkwardly, sections of its immense frame seemingly held together by nothing more than bands of crude stitching. The heavy iron bolt driven through its thick neck shifted as it moved suddenly, lurching forward and reaching towards the young ones before it. “UHRRRRRHHH!” It bellowed furiously.

“Trick or treat!” the trio of children chorused with practiced, saccharine tones. They dug their hands into the bowl the monster clutched, pulling away a moment later clutching greedy, overflowing handfuls of candy, so large they could barely hold together long enough make it into the pillowcases the children carried. Their prizes secure, the children turned and ran off across the lawn toward their next target, dodging the tombstones sticking out of the grass. As they stepped out of the area of the porch light, one childish voice remarked casually, just loud enough for his words to carry to the door. “Who’s supposed to be afraid of Frankenstein, anyways? Babies?”



Rich sighed, shaking his head with a small smirk as he closed the door. Kids these days had no respect for the classics. Realizing he’d just used the phrases ‘kids these days’ and ‘the classics’ he shook his head. Was he really that old already? He set the bowl of candy, now mostly-empty after several hours of being raided by trick-or-treaters, back down on a stool by the front door and turned for the couch. He scooped up the remote with one hand as he dropped heavily into his seat, hitting play as he bounced to a stop. Boris Karloff lurched back into motion across the massive TV before him, a silver-screen starlet shrieking as he closed in.

Even if… some people... couldn’t appreciate the glorious schlock of yesteryear,. Rich loved halloween. It was possibly his favorite holiday. After taking Sam trick-or-treating, he’d snuggle up with her on the couch and watch old-school monster movies until she fell asleep. When she decided she was too old for trick-or-treating, he just started watching the movies earlier and passing out candy, often with Sam still snuggled up against him. He wondered if that might have something to do with her current fascination with all things goth, but shook his head. This year, he saw going it han-style: Solo. Sam and the other girls had all gone over to Anna’s earlier to help her set up her legendary annual halloween party and finish their costumes. It was a little odd, now that he thought about it. They’d been rather secretive about the costumes this year, all he knew was they were planning some kind of group thing.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting Rich’s train of thought. He paused, jumping to his feet with a deep, monstrous groan and stomping toward the door. He grabbed the candy bowl, put on his best angry monster face, and drew in a deep breath. He yanked the door open, setting off the thunder and lightning device hooked up to the door, glared, and let loose a furious bellow, but the sound swiftly tapered off in confusion.

A lone figure stood directly underneath the porch light, completely concealed within a deep indigo cloak. A deep, peaked hood concealed the figure’s face in shadow. The cloak hung closed around the figure’s shoulders, clasped in the front with a simple brooch, a large, round, black-red stone, as big around as a flattened tennis ball, set in a golden disk. The hem hung low enough to brush the ground, completely concealing the figure. They were too tall to be a trick-or-treater. the figure was silent, and Rich found himself growing steadily more creeped out as the moment wore on.

“Trick or treat~!” came a familiar voice from within the shadows of the hood. The hood tipped up, and the light poured in, revealing Sam’s face smiling playfully up at him. Her skin was dyed a smooth, soft shade of gray, and there was a red, diamond-shaped stone glued to her forehead, but there was no mistaking it, she was his daughter. The cloak parted slightly, her hands emerging from the darkness and reaching up to her hood. She was wearing fingerless gloves, made of some kind of glossy, blue-black latex, with a red stone and gold disk like the brooch of her cloak on the back of each hand. With a flick of her wrists and a little help from her neck, the hood came away, revealing a purple wig trimmed to a bob cut.

“Well, how do I look, Daddy?” Sam inquired, grinning, spreading her arms to open the cloak wide and bare the costume beneath it. There wasn’t much. All she wore were the gloves, a pair of ankle-high blue boots, and a one-piece garment that covered her from neck to hip. It was like a turtleneck merged with a swimsuit, and made entirely out of the same blue-black latex-like material as her gloves. It hugged every inch of her, skin-tight, clinging to her slender waist, her generous hips, and each of her full, volleyball-sized breasts, presenting the orbs proudly. The material was cut high on her hips, revealing every inch of her long, shapely legs, the smooth skin dyed the same soft, even gray as her face. A belt completed the look, wrapped loosely around her generous hips, composed of a dozen brooches strung together in a chain, slung lopsided to one side.

She spun around under the light, showing off the costume from all angles, then paused. “Wait, wait, hold on, let me get into character.” she said, shaking her head. She cleared her throat, smothering her grin and putting on a dry, humorless expression, her eyes hooded. They closed as she raised her hands up over her head and began a soft chant. “Azarath… Metrion… Zynthos!” she finished forcefully, thrusting her hands forward, pushing into Rich’s chest. It wasn’t enough to move him, but he decided to humor her, stepping back. She came with him, ‘pushing’ him back with long strides of her shapely gray legs until they were well inside, out of the doorway. She looked up at him with a smirk. “Well, Mr. Monster, you’re tougher than you look.” she commented, playfully. “I might not be able to handle you all by myself.” she added, her grin widening. “Good thing I’ve got a team!”