#It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

[rhetthammersmithhorror]

The Invasion of the Vampires | 1963

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 11: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Summary: Two scientists yearn to open a portal to the afterlife. Studying both death magic and the science behind it, they make a portal never seen before. Sadly for them, it fails. Their youngest decides to see if he can fix it for them.

Ao3 link

It was a dark and stormy night in a far off isolated village. The sleepy village lay dormant that night, safe and warm in their beds. All but one pair of necromancer alchemists. Two adults, parents in name only, who are determined to find a way to the afterlife with a portal. The two worked tirelessly into the night, day after day and night after night. Nothing else matters for days at a time.

Their two kids raised each other. Protecting each other, caring for one another. Over the years as their parents lose themselves more and more with their research. One could even call it an obsession.

Their goals ranged from getting proof to capture to extermination of spirits and demons as a whole, already sure their unproven theories of their vileness were fact. Their two kids watched as it consumed them, experiencing only small doses of attention and affection when they remember other things exist outside of their work.

The elder child was smart and studious. Always trying to figure out how people work to make sense of their upbringing. Constantly trying to help even when not wanted. She was the 'normal' one. Happy and seemingly well adjusted, she was still shunned by the town. Only paid attention to when helping someone else or decrying her parents for acceptance. Her smarts in the 'right' ways made her the golden child. A privileged which allowed her to criticize them to their face and they'd sometimes listen.

The younger, smart in his own right, believed in his parents like many young children do. The small village didn't like that and encouraged, or at times just enabled, other young children to torment him. The belief waned as he aged but it was too late in the villagers' eyes. The ignored son of the town fools.

The young boy loved the stars and desired to go there himself when he was grown. An aspiring astral mage and scientist, two feeling interlinked to him. A desire for the unknown and to mix magic and science made him more alike to his parents than he would like to admit.

The boy had two friends, a techomage and a maiden of the green. One friend constantly wants to advance what they have and the other wants to enhance and preserve the natural world.

On one stormy night in particular, the two 'town crazies' celebrated their crowning achievement. A portal. One to connect the mortal realm and the one of the dead. It was the thing they are most proud of ever making. Over a decade in the making.

They brought their children into their workshop to show them the portal activation.

...

It failed to work.

The researchers fell into a depression from said failure. Doing barely more than the bare minimum of self care, let alone any care for their kids.

Such a disheartening sight deeply saddened the boy. His sister did all she could to get the two to leave the lab and house, claiming it would be good for them to take a break. But the boy saw how hurt they were that their passion project they spent all their time on failed. All that work, all that neglect, over the years. For nothing.

He wanted to check out the portal runes and tech they intermingled together. His friends wanted to join him, curious and wanting to help.

The three snooped where they weren't supposed to. The workshop, abandoned as it was, felt like a void. An unwelcoming void full of dangerous potions and spell work mixed with wires and circuitry everywhere they look.

The portal itself was a deep, cavernous maw in the wall surrounded by wires and metal and strange, necromantic- otherworldly even- runes. A void threatening to consume all who enter.

Activation runes are all over the inside, covered in wires that were hidden by the void. Shadows drawing in all light, beckoning those into its dark abyss. A warning and a siren's call.

His friends checked its outside in case the adults missed anything. The boy wanted to see if he could fix it on the inside, knowing the most on how his parents' stuff worked.

He put on protective gear his parents had lying around their workshop, just his size. His parents always wanted their kids to join them in their work.

Taking a deep breath and into the unnatural cavern he went.

Shadows loom and the black void deepens on his trek into the man made abyss. Unsecured wires litter the floor, causing him to trip multiple times as he goes in blind. Human eyes no longer working the deeper he goes.

So deep, where he could no longer hear his friends, he found runes etched into the walls. They were there before, at the start, but have increased in quantity. Etches have become grooves in the walls to the now sightless boy. Only able to tell what rune they were due to familiarity.

He cut himself on one of the runes, the deep grooves sharp and unsafe even for the protection he put on before. At least, that's what he thought occurred.

One more trip given to him by the wires endangering the walkway and his now bloody hand hit the wall to catch himself.

The rune lit up.

Man made cave once darker than night lit up in an unearthly green and the boy knew this would be it. He's too deep to get out in time.

Death energy and electricity converged onto him, the conduit who activated it.

All was green and agony.

[elcias-diary]

It wasn't a dark and stormy night. It should have been, but that's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks up the overtime.

[gennsoup]

I am the scholar of the dark armchair. Branches and rain hurl themselves at the windows of my library.

Arthur Rimbaud, Childhood

[richerthantruth]

[confetti-critter]

[halloweensongbracket]

Halloween Song Bracket

Please listen to both songs before voting.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Oh My Goth!

[otsmosis]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Relationship: Alastor/Lucifer Magne | Morningstar

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel), Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags: RadioApple, Appleradio, Established Relationship, Established Alastor/Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Halloween Costumes, Storms, Kissing in the Rain, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Radioapple Trick-or-Treat Week

Language: English

Series: ← Previous Work Part 4 of Trick or treat?

Words: 2,410

Chapters: 1/1

[burnwater13]

Grogu watched his dad like a hawk for the rest of that day. IG-11-M had gone back to performing his primary functions, which meant he went back to the Marshal’s office and collected data on criminal activities in the surrounding systems. Nothing criminal occurred anymore on Nevarro. Not with an assassin droid as a marshal.

Din Djarin seemed fine. He had cleaned up the caf mess, made Grogu a fresh bowl of freeze dried froglets, without the blue milk this time, and finished making his own costume for the festivities that evening. He would’t show it to Grogu because he wanted it to be a surprise. Grogu wasn’t very happy about that, but, if that’s what his dad wanted, that was fine. His problem was he really didn’t trust that Din Djarin wasn’t still affected by the Sith flu. Sith were sneaky and that bothered Grogu. 

But, since he could do nothing about that for the time being, he worked on his chores. First, Grogu checked on his costume. He was going as Kuiil and wanted to make sure that everything was ready because he didn’t want to mess it up during the day. Then he looked at his story telling notes and spent some time refining the plots and characters. He was pretty sure that if a story was about a giant chicken, there should be a giant nest, but should there be a second giant chicken? Normally, he asked his dad things like that, but he didn’t want cause any problems. The bounty hunter might not find giant chickens scary at all.

They ate lunch at lunch time and did some general outdoor chores and decorated the cabin. That took some time because his dad said he couldn’t use the Force to help them. Apparently the Mandalorian thought that the Force itself had caused the symptoms of Grogu having Sith flu and didn’t want that to mess them up. Grogu had agree reluctantly. He hadn’t used the Force on his dad that morning and Din Djarin had still consumed a whole big spoonful of mushy froglets in blue milk. 

Grogu wished he’d thought to take a vid of that happening. He could project it on the wall during the story telling later that night. He could imagine the parents finding it gross in a bad way and all the kids finding it gross in a funny way. Grogu would have found it funny if he hadn’t been so concerned about his dad. Oh well. 

Finally, they were ready to go into Nevarro City. Grogu was all dressed up and looked so much like Kuiil that his dad called him that when he saw him. 

“Kuiil, have you seen Grogu? We have to get over to the civic offices now.” 

The Mandalorian had been perfectly serious and Grogu giggled at him.

“Oh, is that you, Grogu? Wow. You really had me convinced I was talking to Kuiil. Do you have everything, including your lucky charm?”

Lucky charm? Oh. His dad must be been talking about the silver ball! After he had taken it from his dad when they were chatting with Ahsoka Tano, the Mandalorian had told her that Grogu treated that knob like it was a lucky charm. Ahsoka had smiled at that. Grogu was pretty sure that she knew that Din Djarin was his lucky charm and that he just really liked having something that reminded him of his dad, because it was shiny like his armor. 

Grogu quickly checked his pockets. Nope. It wasn’t there. He ran to his bedroom. Nope. Not there either. Dank Farrik! Did he leave it in Nevarro City at the civic offices? He didn’t think so. Maybe he left it in his dad’s room? He trotted off to check on that while the Mandalorian moved the last bits of stuff they were taking with them to the speeder.

Sure enough, the silver ball was sitting next to some bit of rock on Din Djarin’s workstation. Grogu grabbed both items and stuffed them into one of his many pockets. He’d no idea that Kuiil’s daily wear required him to have so many pockets, but if that’s what it took, than all the better for him. 

Grogu met his dad at the speeder and noticed that the bounty hunter wasn’t wearing his costume. Grogu asked him if he’d forgotten it. 

“No. I have it stowed away. I’ll change into it once we arrive. R5 will help you do the final set up. I think you’ll really like my costume.”

Grogu nodded his head and they were off. 

When they arrived at the civic offices Grogu was excited to see all the people who were there, wearing costumes and helping with the event. Greef Karga was front and center and, instead of wearing his typical costume of the High Magistrate, he was wearing a sparkly red and white striped hat, which matched his sparkly red and white striped coat and the long blue and white sparkly pants that seemed quite baggy. You couldn’t miss him and once you saw him, you’d never forget him. Grogu was impressed. 

“Well my friends, we’ve done it! People are already going through the ‘fright factory’ and they really seem to like it. The protocol droids are keeping that sorted out. We’ll be starting the story telling as soon as you're ready Mando. And… little one, I am happy to tell you a couple of your friends decided to stop by and grace Nevarro with their presence. Now, they want to surprise you, so just keep your eyes open. Don’t just use those magic hands of yours.”

The High Magistrate seemed very happy and Grogu was glad about that, but he wondered who had come all the way to Nevarro to see him? He hadn’t checked his datapad to see if his ‘Sith-alike’ alter ego had sent out any other messages. Oh, no! What if he’d invited Dr. Pershing? Or Moff Gideon’s second in command? What if he’d accidentally invited the horrible spider critters from the ice cube moon they crashed on that time? 

He was so distracted by those thoughts that he didn’t even notice his dad slip away to change into his costume. Womp rats! Grogu slipped his hand into his pocket so he could hold the silver ball. It really was a lucky charm for him and he knew he would feel better if he was holding it. 

But it wasn’t in the first pocket he checked, or the second, or even the third. Dang. Why did the Kuiil costume have to have so many pockets? Then he checked another pocket and found something smooth and cool to the touch. But it wasn’t the silver ball. Uff. It must be that rock he picked up from his dad’s room with the ball. Then Grogu began to cackle. Excellent. It was all going to plan.

Grogu surveyed the space again and saw the storytellers' throne. He rubbed his hands together and marched right over to it. This was his place and this was where he would meet his subjects and sway them to his purpose. The Empire was in a shambles and he was going to rally the people of Nevarro to support him and bring order to the Galaxy. He laughed again and the sound of his cackling certainly attracted some attention. That was good right?

He sat on the throne and flipped the switch to the sound system that the High Magistrate had thoughtfully installed.

“It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder crashed and lightning filled the sky with bright flashes of my wrath!”

Then Grogu lifted his left hand and blue lighting snapped and crackled from it. He vaguely heard someone call out ‘Dank Farrik’ and was about to continue his appeal to his subjects when he heard a familiar voice.

“You are gravely mistaken.”

A man in an almost black cloak stepped forward, his hood obscuring his face and his black gloves highlighting that he was holding the hilt of a shiny silver lightsaber. 

“Oh, no, my young Jedi. You will find that it is you who are 

mistaken...about a great many things.”

“This little one isn’t worth the effort.” 

Another hooded human walked up, dressed in light brown and tan robes. The sash and the shiny knurled hilt of a lightsaber gave away the identify of this Jedi: Obi-Wan Kenobi, back for another battle. 

What the heck? Where were these Jedi coming from? Hadn’t he gotten rid of them all?

“Hey, Mando! What in the seven sisters of Sullust is goin’ on here? I came just like the little one asked me to.” 

Peli Motto? Peli was here! Yippee! Uh, ugh, another part of his plan was falling into place.

“Listen you two, he’s got something in his right hand. I think that’s your problem, but I don’t think I’m the one who should fix it.” 

Fennec Shand spoke from behind her spotting scope. Her voice was calm, cool, and collected. Good. Good. Wait, what? She was supposed to be on his side!

With that, a bunch of things happened all at once. Emperor Grogu held up his hands so he could zappity, zap anyone who got too close, but he hadn’t taken into account that two Jedi could overpower him quite so easily. Apparently Obi-Wan had learned that he was ticklish. That wasn’t fair! And Luke had simply taken the rock out of his hand and crushed it. 

“Grogu, buddy? Are you okay now?” 

His dad was talking to him. How was Din Djarin doing that? He wasn’t even there!

Obi-Wan pushed his hood back and Grogu saw a familiar face. An actual face. Not a helmet. Not a mask. But his dad’s face. He jumped into Din Dajrin’s arms and hugged him tight. 

“So what was that thing the kid was holdin’?” Peli asked, as she walked closer to the ‘throne’ and offered Grogu some hard candy lozenges. 

“That was a bone from one of the clones that Moff Gideon had been cultivating here in that old lab. Grogu must have found it somewhere.” 

Luke pushed his own hood down as he answered Peli’s question. 

“Well, let’s check the kid’s eyes and see if all that Sithyness is gone. I prefer brown eyes to red ones.” 

Fennec was always the practical one and very sweet.

“Mando! That was amazing. Everyone loved it. Let’s get to the next story. You should have ended the show with that one. It’s going to be hard to top.” Greef Karga bustled up to them. 

“I think I can help with that.” 

Luke turned to crowd, as Grogu just hugged his dad and Din Djarin hugged him back.

“A long time ago, in a galaxy, far, far away…”

[jugheadvarchoni]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗 “𝚁𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝” 🥰

[blood-powered-radio]

Creature Feature - Graverobber At Large

off the album It Was A Dark and Stormy Night, 2011

[canonical-transformation]

It was a dark and stormy night. It was always a dark and stormy night in Immernachtstadt. The rain fell in torrents— except at occasional intervals, when suddenly a shot rang out, a door slammed, a maid screamed, or a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.

—No Bird an Island, Chapter 96.

(Wait, you already guessed Fischl was narrating? What do you mean? This is high quality grimdark prose.)

[stormneedle]

The Bulwer-Lytton winners are out!

[halloweensongbracket]

Halloween Song Bracket

Please listen to both songs before voting. Please make sure you know which song it is you're voting for, as both of them have the lyrics "Heads Will Roll", which may be confusing

Heads Will Roll

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

[sergioguymanproust]

The plight of the writer! It was a dark and stormy night,the only light came from the sudden sparks of the lightning rods that hit the wet and muddy ground!He sat on his favorite armchair, sipping his rum and the same question assaulted him time and time again ,to be or not to be a writer?!Outside the storm raged on ,pellets of hail turned the roof into a noisy shooting gallery , in the midst of all this,he decided ,well ,I got a pad ,a pen and plenty of rum ,and enough wood burning. No Hitchcock,no birds , no gothic horror, no Abraham Stoker’s Dracula. None of the classics, the rum begun to had its effect and he found himself climbing the stairs to his bedroom and feeling sick ,made his way to the toilet. The skylight illuminated by blue flashes followed by thunder and rain now begun to subside,the thought of the classic vampire movie Nosferatu the long claws and fangs sent shivers up his spine ,something awful happened then ,he noticed blood dripping from the ceiling onto his bed. Suddenly he realized his fate was sealed ,he was to become a writer of winter tales ,cold and strange bedside stories for insomniacs and night owl workers and sleepwalkers. In order to write you must follow your stories to the dark corners of your mind and never give up .Writing isn’t for the faint hearted.Be ready to marry your muse! Words by Sergio GuymanProust.