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ilu-writes · 5 years ago

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Endurance

Days and Nights (solangelo)

Rating: G | Warnings: None

AO3 | FF.net |

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I genuinely can’t think of a summary for this but. They get competitive, and there’s a race, and it’s pretty cute, and also Nico discovers the biggest flaw in seeing a sweaty Will.

“What… are you wearing?” Asked Nico, hoping his tone didn’t sound too insulting, but also not really caring. Will Solace was standing in front of him, wearing a tank top, shorts, trainers, and an orange sweatband across his forehead.

“They’re my gym clothes,” said Will, brightly.

“We don’t have a gym here.”

Will gave him a look, like, seriously?

“I know. But they’re also my running clothes.” He tugged at the shirt, which said sun, sweat, and sand in bold letters, like that would make anymore sense to Nico. Sure, he knew that normal people had ‘running gear’, but here at camp, they basically only practised in their normal clothes or some armour.

Mostly he was just trying not to look at Will’s exposed arms. Or legs. Or anywhere that wasn’t his face.

“Alright,” he said finally, deciding not to push it. “So, what, you’re going on a run?”

“Yep.” Will raised his eyebrows. “Why is that such a weird concept?”

“I just don’t see why anyone would go on a run without having to, that’s all.” Nico shrugged. Will snorted.

“Oh, of course.”

Nico frowned. “Of course what?”

“Of course you’d be confused by me going on a run,” clarified Will, smirking now. “Pretty much the only exercise you do these days is training. With your sword, more often than not. Can you even use a bow?” He tilted his head towards the archery range, and Nico folded his arms, not wanting to admit that he was almost as bad as the blonde when it came to archery.

“That’s because all the other types of exercise suck,” he retorted, scowling. Sword fighting was fun, and came easy to him thanks to the tough training he’d gone through. Everything else seemed like a waste of energy, because he was already pretty good at them. He didn’t see the point in doing them while he was still technically ‘in recovery’ after the whole statue thing.

“All exercise is good for you,” Will said, briefly switching into Doctor Mode, before rolling his eyes. “Plus, running can be fun.”

“It’s sweaty and gross.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Will picked up his water bottle off the side, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I was just coming to tell you that apparently Coach Hedge is coming back to Camp for some meeting in the next few days. I figured you guys were close, right?”

“Right,” said Nico, although he wasn’t sure how to talk to Hedge now that they didn’t have the whole trying-to-save-the-world thing to bond over anymore. Really, he just wanted to know that the satyr was settling into a relatively quiet life in LA with Mellie and the kid, but he doubted it. “That’s great news,” he said, anyway.

Will hummed in what seemed to be agreement, before holding his hands up. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your sword play,” he said, backing away. Nico furrowed his brow.

“I’m training,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “If I recall correctly, my ‘sword play’ saved you from getting killed by six Romans not that long ago, if you’d remember.”

“Please,” Will scoffed, “I would’ve been fine. They wouldn’t’ve been able to catch me. Know why?”

“If you say because you run-“

“Because I run regularly,” finished Will, looking smug. Nico gave him an exasperated look, which only seemed to fuel his amusement. “Come on, you’re just sulky because you aren’t a great runner. It’s fine.”

“That’s not at all true-“

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We all have flaws.” Will gave him a sympathetic smile, although the laughter in his eyes gave him away. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m a great runner,” said Nico, which was true, assuming he wasn’t exhausted from sleep deprivation, oxygen deprivation, or any other kind of vital deprivation, really. Will just raised an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

“I am,” insisted Nico, before wincing a little as his own tone. He constantly found himself surprised by Solace’s willingness to tease him- everyone else seemed to treat him like some scary presence who could decapitate them the second they said something wrong. And he could, but he probably wouldn’t.

“If you’re such a great runner, fine.” Will folded his arms, locking their eyes together. “Come with me. We can have a race, see who’s actually better.”

“No,” said Nico, although he was sorely tempted. Will raised an eyebrow.

“Scared?”

“No, but I did put on all this armour just so I could train, and I intend to use it,” he pointed out, gesturing to himself. Will gave him a once over that made butterflies resurrect in his stomach.

“That’s fair, actually,” the son of Apollo noted, and Nico resisted the urge to make a snide comment. “Alright- tomorrow morning, then. I usually go for an early morning jog in the summer.”

“I usually go for an early morning nap, but I guess I could make an exception,” conceded Nico, after a second. “Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Great, I’ll get you up. Five o’clock, sharp.” Will grinned, like that was a normal and not at all sadistic thing to say.

“Five?”

After a tiny bit of back and forth, Nico managed to push back the run until six am, but unsurprisingly his alarm going off still made him wanted to reconsider his life choices and then kill himself anyway.

He let it ring for a solid five minutes before the sound got too annoying for him, and he caved and got out of bed. He didn’t have any special running gear like Will had, and frankly you couldn’t pay him to wear any, so he just pulled on his usual black jeans and t-shirt.

When he opened the door, he found himself wincing at the light outside. Surely, surely, it was too early for the sun to already be up already, but he could clearly see it rising over Half-Blood Hill. Will, wearing yet another brightly coloured tank top and shorts, wasn’t helping.

Maybe he should’ve worn sunglasses.

“You look cheery,” beamed Will, who looked way too awake for this time of day.

Nico barely supressed a groan. “It is way too early for this.”

“Come on, I do it every day!”

“You’re a masochist.”

Will’s eyes glinted as he moved out of the way of the door. Nico took a moment to genuinely consider just conceding and going back to bed, but… he’d kind of staked his honour on this. Plus, he was already awake.

Sighing, he stepped outside and let the door close behind him. “Fine. I’m awake. Where do we run?”

“We have to do stretches first,” pointed out Will, brightly. “Otherwise you risk pulling a muscle.”

“I’ll take the pulled muscle.”

Will’s expression still didn’t falter as he started to do stretches, leaning side to side like he was in a yoga video. He shirt rode up his stomach every time he did it.

Look at his face, Nico reminded himself, although that was arguably even more awkward given how Will was moving. After about a minute, Will straightened up and put his hands on his hips. “Are you really not going to stretch?” He asked, his cheeks already slightly pink.

“Nope.”

Will gave him a once over, and for a second Nico thought he was going to call out the jeans, but then he shrugged. “Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you pull a muscle.”

Nico just folded his arms. “Where are we running?”

“Usually, I got around the camp borders and up to the strawberry fields,” explained Will, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But since we’re racing, I figured we skip the fields and stop at the lake.”

“Sounds good,” said Nico. The place where they kept the canoes wasn’t that far away. Maybe they’d be done quick enough for him to go back to sleep before his day officially begun.

Will moved to stand next to him, like it was a proper race. He counted them down, and on go, Nico propelled himself forward as fast as possible.

Maybe running wasn’t all bad, he allowed, as he sprinted around the camp. There was something refreshingly distracting about the feeling of the wind against his face, and the ground beneath his feet. It lacked the thinking skills that sword fighting did, but maybe that was a benefit – it certainly had been while he’d been training with the ghosts.

Back then, he’d been so focused on everything – the fresh loss of his sister, the realisation he was completely alone, Percy Jackson – it had been easy to throw himself into the intense training without having to think. It had also made him easy to manipulate, but he tried not to think about that too often.

He interrupted his own thoughts as he realised he’d reached the lake, slamming to a stop. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t paid attention to any of the run.

Glancing around him, he realised that Will was a surprising distance behind him, clearly running as fast as possible. Had he really been running that fast?

“Gods of Olympus,” gasped Will as he came to a stop, doubling over to press his hand to his side. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I never kid,” said Nico, which wasn’t true, before frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yep,” Will said, in what was clearly meant to be a reassuring tone, but the fact he was still panting and didn’t straighten up kind of nullified it. “You’re just… really fast.”

“I’m a good runner,” said Nico, shrugging.

“I thought I was a good runner,” said Will. “You- you are some kind of superhuman machine.”

“We’re all super human here,” pointed out Nico, before bending over a little so he was more on Will’s level. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Will straightened up, brushing his hair out of his face, and forced a smile. “I’m fine. You just winded me a little.”

“You are an awful liar,” noted Nico, and something in the other boys face flickered.

“I’m not lying,” he said, his expression morphing into one of surprise. Nico raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, you are,” he said flatly. “What’s actually up?”

“Nothing,” said Will, but he seemed to deflate. “I just thought I was getting pretty good at running.”

“You are pretty good,” said Nico, surprised. He hadn’t expected the problem to be self-consciousness. “I’m just-“

“Better?” Suggested Will, with a wry smile.

Nico paused for a second. “I have better endurance,” he said, finally. “I trained with ghosts. They have a lot of… methods.”

“Ghosts?” Repeated Will, looking surprised, but Nico didn’t really want to go into that now, so he glossed over it.

“I learnt how to pace myself. It’s all fun and games being able to go fast, but if you can only sustain it for a few minutes- it’s useless.”

“So, like, the tortoise and the hare,” said Will, before sighing. “It’s fine, I’m just being silly. I’m just- it’s fine.” There was a pause, and Nico gave him a pointed look. He didn’t know how to prompt people to talk to him, he’d never been good at it, but he hoped the look would be enough. It seemed to be, because after a few seconds, Will cracked. “I just- you have your sword fighting, and most of my cabin has their archery, and Lou Ellen has their magic- and I don’t know, I feel like all I’m good for is healing.”

“Healing is useful,” said Nico, before wincing internally at how awful that sounded. The look on Will’s face suggested he knew it, but he still appreciated the effort.

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean- you’re skills are useful, they just aren’t… physical.”

“Maybe I want some physical skills as well,” suggested Will, looking mildly amused, and Nico shuffled awkwardly.

He had an internal debate with himself, but his irrational side won. “I mean, if you really want- I could teach some stuff,” he said, and then rushed on. “Like- some kind of weaponry. And how to, um, increase your endurance and stuff. If you want.”

Will looked surprised. “You don’t have to- I’m just being whiney, you don’t have to go out of your way to try and help me.”

“It’s not out of my way,” Nico said immediately, before mentally yelling at himself to be more subtle. “I just mean- it’d be fun to have something to do, you know? Since I’ll be here for a while. If you’re up to it, I mean.”

“I’m up to it,” said Will, still looking slightly bewildered, but clearly warming up to the idea. “It sounds fun.”

“Great,” said Nico, awkwardly.

“You can’t teach me archery, though,” Will added, grinning at him. “It’s useless. I gave up a long time ago.”

“That’s fine, believe me, I won’t be teaching anyone archery for a while,” Nico assured him, unable to stop himself from smiling too. He glanced towards the cabins. People would probably be waking up soon. “Race you to the pavilion?” he offered, and Will’s expression changed to one of fear.

“Oh gods, no.” He shook his head, wrapping his arm around his stomach. “One round of physical torture is quite enough, thanks.”

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo fanfiction #days and nights #pjo #hoo #toa #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #trials of apollo #mine #my works

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nebbychan · 7 years ago

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Donk and Sparrow - Halloween

Crisp and brittle leaves of all colors; scarlet, bronze, and gold all breaking off from their homes among the branches to gracefully cascade, floating along the breeze and landing on the pavement. The chill made it clear that winter was on its way, and any self-respecting Dallington resident would know that it was time to wrap their bodies in a multitude of neutral fabrics. Fall was a special time in Dallington, it signaled the end of barbecues, poolside parties, and humidity of the summer heat and announced the return of the infamous pumpkin spice lattes, succulent vegetables and fruits ripe for harvesting as citizens of all ages would charge to the nearest pumpkin patch or apple orchard to pick only the fattest and juiciest. But fall also served as a warning of the hard winter that was yet to come, temperatures were dropping faster than that of a piano at high altitude, and elderly residents would soon be packing and catching flights in Buffalo or driving to the nearest warmer states.

The worst of it all was the Christmas season.

Nebby had to relive those horrors year after year once she’d become working age, and make no mistake, the first Black Friday always left mental scars in a retail associate’s brain. She had no doubt that Tim becoming a sales floor associate at the old Sears in Pine Woods Mall will be one hell of a shocker for him. She didn’t do it in front of him, but behind the scenes she’d be crossing herself repeatedly and uttering, “En el hombre Del Padre, y Del Hijo, y Del Espíritu Santo. Amen.” Thankfully, Canny Tim had yet to fully grasp Spanish, though that doesn’t mean he didn’t know what “puta” or “cabrón” meant.

And what also served as a saving grace was the holiday that came before Christmas; Halloween.

Halloween was always a popular holiday in the states, especially in Dallington. Once a year, a massive festival would be held, honoring the town’s founding. Meanwhile, the town’s club owner and DJ, Salem had decided to pack up and go off to the mountains for the weekend. It was a strange tradition of hers; she’d pack the RV with all the essentials, and drive deep into the woods only to emerge on November 1st. No one knew why she did it, but when approached she’d instantly snap, “I just need some time to myself, okay?” Nope, definitely not suspicious at all, nope!

Of course, some punk kid would start a rumor that Salem was a serial killer or a narcotics addict, neither of which held enough evidence to prove either theories plus the addition of Nebby’s frightful gaze said otherwise. Nebby herself believed she was just writing new songs or trying to enjoy nature, she’d always remembered Salem as an avid hiker and birdwatcher. Lame activities, but someone has to have a believable hobby, right? Ann had her baking, and Nebby had her trips to the gym.

Nebby stopped by Salem’s small bungalow with croissants and parfaits, “Hey! Going on that yearly trip again?” she greeted. Salem had hoisted the last bag into her RV just as she’d approached her driveway, she smiled, “Yeah, oh hey, are those for me?” “Well who else in this town eats parfaits with pomegranates, dark chocolate mousse, and gluten-free vegan yogurt?” Nebby placed a hand on her hip and flashed a roguish grin. “Don’t you diss the good name of Velvet yogurt, its good shit and you know it.” Salem laughed as she accepted the care package, “So I hear this is gonna be Tim’s first Halloween, it kinda sucks I won’t be here to see it.” “Yeah well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything with him; fucker’s still shaken up after watching IT last night.” Nebby folded her arms and scoffed, “Lost his shit at the sewer drain scene and wouldn’t keep his hands off his face to watch the rest.” “R.I.P Georgie.” Salem shook her head, “You know Tim’s a medieval solider, right? His time was really fucked up you know, and I don’t think introducing him to horror movies was a good idea, you might trigger something.” “He watched the entirety of the Exorcist without blinking an eye, matter of fact…other horror movies are just fine with him- well, except the time he got super nauseated after watching the Saw movies.” Nebby scratches her head.

“You think he might have coulrophobia?” “Canny Tim, afraid of clowns…? I’ve heard of his discomfort towards mirrors, but not clowns.” “Well, it’s a possibility. You said he couldn’t watch IT without covering his eyes.” “In his defense, I probably should’ve warned him there was gonna be a lot of child death in this…” “Well if he does, then you guys might want to be careful.” “And why do you say that?” “Well, I guess there are clowns popping up all over the country again.” “Really, are you serious? This shit again? Welp, welcome to Clownpocalyse, mother fuckers, buckle up!” “Yeah, I’d recommend carrying bear mace or something.” “I’ll add that to my grocery list.”

Salem snorted, “Anyway, I should probably start heading out before traffic starts congesting like flu season. You got your meds, right?” “Like I want to spend this year’s Halloween stuck in bed.” Nebby rolled her eyes, “you have a safe trip, okay?” “You better have some tamale ready for me when I get back.” Salem stuck her tongue out at Nebby, earning a playful expression in return. She waved goodbye as her friend pulled out and drove off. Putting her hands into her pockets, she sighed and began the walk home.

“Me? Going on a hunting trip with you! Oh no, fuck no, last time I went you nearly took an eye out!” Orion angrily pointed to his left eye. Kardok frowned and punched his shoulder, “’at was ower 700 years ago, wimp, gle ower it.” “I know you’re just going to leave me in the woods or use me as target practice.” The clone glared daggers at the centaur, folding his arms and tapping his non-bandaged foot. “Ah won’t, Ollie said Ah cooldn’t anyway.” Kardok groaned, “an’ besides, dae ye pure want tae bide haur an’ deal wit’ Zarok instead ay shootin’ deer an’ elk?” He did drive a good point, whichever minion that stayed behind had to give him a bubble bath. And bubble baths were the worst, last person to go was Oliver, and he was later found in his room rocking himself by a corner. Orion cringed, “Okay, I guess you’re right.” “’En gle packin’, yoo’re burnin’ daylecht haur.” Kardok shoved him towards the stairs, Orion stumbled and grumbled to himself as he regained balance and began walking up towards his room to pack. Oliver entered the foyer with suitcases in hand, “I’m so excit’d! A whole weekend trippeth all to ourselves!” he smiled, “and twas awfully kind of Zeal to lend us the RV, I wast almost worried we’d has’t to travel by foot!” “Aye, its bin tay lang since I’ve shot myself a braw stag ur tois.” Kardok agreed, stretching out his arms. He took the bags from Oliver and brought them outside to the RV. “Come your ways, doest that gent coequal knoweth we’re going on this trippeth?” Oliver inquired, slightly anxious.

“Ye pure techt Zarok…? Nope, has nae scooby whit we’re daein’.” “I see, then we’d best beest off ere that gent notices.” “Exactly wa Ah tauld Orion tae coorie th’ heel up…!” “Right, oh and ere we wend, may we cease at Lady Donk’s house?” “Wa dae ye want tae gang thaur?” “Just to inquire on which places maketh the best camping ground, we can’t just wend anywhere in the woods.” “Braw, an’ mebbe while we’re thaur she can hook us up wit’ some ay ‘er scran.”

Oliver grinned and once Orion finally pulled through with his luggage- even though he wound up falling down the stairs due to the weight, they headed out. Of course, there was the quick stop at Nebby’s house. Kardok stopped the RV and hopped out with the others, knocking on her front door. Lately he’d noticed the unusual change in setting, not just in this house but all over town; carved pumpkins scattered everywhere, cheap cloth with faces crudely drawn onto them, fake displays of witches and cobwebs. He’d once almost jumped at the sight of the giant spider resting on Ann’s rooftop! None of it was real, of course, but still, quite the scare! Apparently, this was for “Halloween”. Kardok had never heard of it, nor was he interested in knowing what it was about.

What also annoyed him were the inconsistent puns. Oh, the puns.

“Spooky Savings”

“Boo-ze for you”

“Three fears for discounts”

“Witches Crew”

God, if he had to endure one more pun, so help him he will go on a rampage. And wrestling with an enraged centaur was not easy. Just then, the front door opened, and standing there with a cup of tea in hand and glowering at him was Tim. He hissed, “What do you want, Bhaltair?” “Is Nebby haem?” He frowned.

“I’m afraid not, she’s gone to see Ms. Hallows at the moment.” He shook his head, “Now, please leave.” He was about to shut the door when Kardok blocked him with one of his hooves. Tim was getting frustrated, “I already told you, she’s not home, leave or I’m calling the authorities!” “Ah still need somethin’ ye ken.” Kardok said firmly, “I’m gonnae oan a huntin’ trip for th’ weekend an’ Ah need scran. Ye ken hoo te cuik sae gie tae it!” “Why you…! Well, first of all-!” But Tim stopped to think for a moment, a whole weekend without Kardok around? That means 48 hours of no hooves clattering against the pavement, no heavy breathing over his shoulder, and no threat of his magic arrows! This was perfect! And all he’d have to do was cook for him? Seems like a fair trade to him! “…fine, make yourselves at home, I’ll whip something up for you.” He sighed, slowly opening the door for him. Kardok grinned, but before entering smacked the mug out of Tim’s hand, causing the porcelain to shatter and its contents to get all over the wood flooring. Tim opened his mouth to say something, but just shook his head instead and slinked off to the kitchen.

Once he’d finished, he exited carrying with him several containers and pots all stacked together. “Alright, I’ve prepared enough food to last you the weekend, please return the containers and pots when you return, Ms. Nebula will not be happy to find that her cookware has gone missing.” Tim informed, carefully lending it to Oliver. And speak of the devil…

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Nebby growled.

Kardok replied, “Huntin’ trip.” “Oh. You’re going too? Well if you see Salem tell her I said hey.” She brightened up, only to immediately darken, “Next time though, wait for me to get home before you decide to invite yourself in, and for fuck’s sake, quit breaking my shit!” “Duly noted, terribly my most humble apology by the by, we’re in a drive and this trippeth wast last minute.” Oliver nodded. “Its fine, you guys go on ahead.” Nebby shooed them away. Orion stayed behind, “Hey, before I go, do you have like, a bunch of scary stories I could use? I want to try and fuck with Kardok on this trip.” “Do I look like a fucking library to you? Talk to Winston, he should hook you up.” Nebby then shoved him out. She then glanced at Tim, “What’d you make?” “Oh, not much, just some honey cakes and chicken soup.” He laughed, “But I’m glad to see you back home.”

A grin crept up on Nebby’s face, “Awesome, I’m gonna head to the store to pick up some candy for the trick-or-treaters, you wanna come? There’s a chocolate in it for you.” She offered in a sing-song voice. “Make it two cases of sugar frosted cookies and I’ll grab my coat.” Tim smirked. “You fucking pig, get upstairs.” She snorted. “You created a monster Ms. Nebula!” Tim joked. “Fuck you!” she called back as he marched up the stairs.

Tim entered his room, it’d gotten better since he’d moved in; he had some posters hung up on the wall along with the many flowers Winston would gift to him on a regular basis. It’d gotten to a point where he had hung some of them onto the ceiling; it was neat save for a few fallen petals on the carpet. He opened the sliding door to the closet, inside was as equally organized. He had coats hung based off color coordination, size, and style, shirts and pants folded neatly inside drawers, plus he had a shoe rack to better arrange his shoes, ranging from sneakers to dress shoes. Other items were found such as a laundry basket and a backpack. He took a step back to think which he’d like to take, only to settle for a dark red coat with black buttons. After slipping it on, he practically flew down the stairs and outside, grabbing a lanyard and turning the porch light on as he exited.

The lanyard wasn’t anything special as it held a cardholder which kept his license and a copy of the house key. Latching the front door shut, he entered the passenger side of Nebby’s car. She smiled, “Took you long enough.”

As they drove towards the direction of the supermarket, Tim looked out into the window. “Ms. Nebula,” He started, “Tell me more about Halloween.” “Sure, you want the short version or the long version? The long version also includes some of Dallington’s history.” She offered. “The long version, please, I want to know everything.” He answered.

“For starters, Halloween wasn’t always called that,” she began, “It has its roots in age-old European traditions, it started with the Celtics, and they called it Samhain, it was a festival consisting of bonfires and people wearing costumes and carving into vegetables to ward off ghosts. They believed that on that night, the boundary between the realms of the living and dead became blurred. So to any evil spirits, it was like a possession buffet for them.” Nebby continued, “But uh, nowadays people dress up for the fun of it…spirit of the season and all that. Anyway, Halloween didn’t come to America until the colonial times, but it wasn’t celebrated as frequently, but when it was, colonizers gathered to exchange ghost stories and start fucking shit up. At that time, they called it, All Hallows Eve. The holiday didn’t pick back up until the early 20th century during the Second World War, when kids started begging for food, marking the staple of Halloween, trick or treating. And Jack-O-Lanterns didn’t pick up until the immigration wave, thanks to the Irish.”

“But what does your town have to do with it?”

“Glad you asked, to give a better understanding, Dallington was founded by Quakers back on October 31st in 1643, before the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts. Before then, it was at first a clan of Irish, Spanish, and French immigrants, along with Native Americans and freed or escaped slaves.” She explained, “They were a small community at first, looking to help each other out and find true peace in the New World. The population was small; I’d say around 150 people- farmers and merchants before the trials. By that time, those who had managed to flee upon accusation came here to hide and later start anew. When the trials were over, on Halloween of 1693, the citizens had gathered outside Salem’s cemetery to mourn and give their respects to those who had lost their lives. Then a year later, a massive feast was held to honor them and those who had passed in their town or in the immigrant’s home countries, some female residents dressing as witches and male residents as demons…basically a middle finger to the Puritan assholes and to the bitchy group of teen girls that started the hysteria.”

“All in all, Halloween was the staple of Dallington’s history, serving as a break from the hardworking conformity.” She smiled, “Although, this is just barely scratching the surface. There’s a lot more to this town than a discount Dia de Los Muertos celebration to piss off religious conservatives.”

He blinked, “I had no idea Dallington had such a connection.” “Well, they did.” She chuckled, “Though, no town goes without its enemies. After that little stunt, in January 4th, 1694, nearby Puritan settlements launched an attack on Dallington. There weren’t any casualties, but they did try to burn down the library, which they hated the most, by the way. Yeah, they didn’t get along, like, at all. Hell, at the end of that month, they tried bringing the Witch Trials back, though it was unsuccessful.” “And why was that?” He wondered. “Easy, because all their women freaked out and moved to Dallington; and without women they couldn’t populate, so the remaining settlers basically died off, probably of dysentery or something to warrant the Darwin Award…” She answered, gripping onto the steering wheel, “Good on them, I hate Puritans.” Tim laughed, “Even if they’re not around anymore?” “Oh no, they’re still here, they’re just not called that anymore.” She shook her head.

They arrived at a nearby Halmart a while later, and after going inside, Nebby grabbed for a shopping cart and darted straight for the seasonal section. Being this was Dallington, their seasonal section was massive, as it took up nearly half of the gardening section! Stocked were bags of mixed candies, trick-or-treating pails, boxes stuffed with inflatable or cluttered decorations, and of course, costumes! Seeing as lately her hands had been tied with practically babysitting Tim, putting up with likes of Zarok, her store, and occasional trips to the gym, Nebby had little time to decide on a costume. But she decided, hey, while she was there, why not pick something out? And maybe she could include Tim in this if he wanted to. Walking through the candy aisle, she extended her arm so her hand would be knocking over all the bags, and when she began to power walk past, bags filled with candy began falling off the shelves and into her shopping basket. When she was sure her basket was filled completely, she turned towards the costumes. Tim kept close to her as they walked, completely perplexed by what she’d done.

“Hey Timmy, look at this costume!” Nebby pulled out a costume from the rack, it was contained in a bag, but the front had a picture of a person dressed in a blue tunic with white trousers and boots, and holding in his hand was a sword and a shield. It said “Breath of the Wild”, though in all honesty, everyone knew who this was. She grinned, “Do you want to dress up for Halloween? It’s not too late to get a costume!” “Isn’t dressing up a children’s activity?” he asked. “You’re never too old to dress up! I don’t understand where the fuck these bullshit adult expectations came from, just because I’m 30 doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy anything!” She retorted, “C’mon, at least try to have fun.” Tim sighed and took the bag from her, “Fine, I’ll give it a try.” “Yes!” She fist pumped in victory. As Nebby left the aisle, and Tim hadn’t noticed this before, he noticed a figure standing across from a display of inflatable ghosts, he’d only managed to catch a glimpse of a red nose and confetti-like clothing, the wide grin and light waving made Tim’s stomach flip. He was about to take a step forward to investigate when he heard her calling, “Hey Tim, are you coming? I need to pick up some bear mace.”

“O-Oh, yes, I am! Coming, Ms. Nebula!” He then exited the aisle, before he did, however, he looked back to find the figure gone. Must’ve been his imagination…or perhaps it wasn’t.

Orion stretched his arms as he’d finally finished setting up the grill Zeal had lent to them, “Thought I’d never get it done…” He’d been left alone to prepare the grill while Kardok and Oliver hunt for deer, which wasn’t at all what he’d hoped for when he’d said he’d like to go on this trip. Then again, it was either this or scrubbing Zarok’s back. And on the plus side, it was relatively tranquil in the woods; he’d almost missed the smell of pine cones and that sweet fresh air that filled his lungs. Maybe it wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but it was still nice to have proper time to relax for once in a millennia. When he’d thought about it, all he remembered was nothing but stuffy rooms and endless clashing against swords. He’d obtained many scars and bruises in his life, most come from either Kardok or Zarok himself. But just one, just for one moment, he could have a moment to rest. The first day had gone off without a hitch, though not much happened. They simply scouted the area with the little daylight they had left, finding the best common ground for deer and whatnot, Kardok had already marked which areas he’d like to visit on his map! Afterwards, they sat outside the RV and eagerly wolfed down the chicken soup Canny Tim had provided for them, and then turned in for the night. Today was more about him setting up the grill and waiting for his comrades to return from hunting, they returned earlier for lunch, and though he wasn’t a cook, he’d managed to throw some meat in between two slices of bread and call it a meal, even if it displeased the centaur. It took an entire loaf, a whole bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a jug of iced tea to get him back on the field, and it was understandable, with an anatomy as complicated as Kardok’s it’d demand the twice amount of nourishment! That’s why they packed extras.

He then turned his head in the direction of leaves rustling; thinking Kardok or Oliver had finally returned Orion opened his mouth to greet them, only for it to be someone else.

He’d seen her before on occasion, particularly when Oliver came to the club for an interview. Her ombre hair hidden in an odd looking hood; tan leather- at least he thought it was leather, adorned with horns, fur, and animal bones. Orion blinked, “Uh…hey Salem, what brings you to the campground?” “Nothin’, Nebby texted me and told me you and the guys are here to do some redneck shit.” She joked. “Redneck…?” Orion repeated. “You know, hunt and get stupidly drunk. I’ve seen it before; my Dad and Uncle Mason did it when they were young.” She laughed. “Are they here with you?” He queried, but Salem shook her head, “Nah, Uncle Mason’s six feet under and my Dad is with my Mom back in Oklahoma.” Oh, so her uncle was-?

“Sorry to hear that.” He said softly. “Its fine, he’s actually buried near my campsite, I come up here every year to pay respects. And my camp is not that far from yours, it’s about half a mile up north.” She smiles, “If you guys want to drop by and have a beer later, I’m open for it.” “That’d be great, but just a fair warning, Kardok can be an ass sometimes.” He laughed.

“He’s part horse, though it’d make more sense if it were half donkey.” “Good one! So, any reason for the weird poncho you got there?” “This…? This belonged to my Uncle Mason; I wear it whenever I come to visit him.” “You two seemed pretty close.” “Are you kidding? He was my best friend before I met Nebby and Ann! Don’t tell them I said that.” “I’ll try not to squeal,” He smirked, “But hey, before you go, do you have any scary stories?” “Why do you want to know? Are you planning on scaring Oliver?”

“More like Kardok and getting back at him for all the bullshit I endured,” He huffed, “I mean, I get it, I looked like some arrow fodder and bear half of his DNA, but the other half isn’t him!” “Let me guess, he doesn’t accept that you’re not who he wants you to be?” She sighed, “Yeah, I get it. And as a matter of fact, I do have a story for you.” She pulls up a chair and seats herself next to the fire pit.

“Alright Orion, you ever heard of the Wendigo?”

The sun had already set by the time Kardok returned, a fat and limp deer resting on horseback, a huge grin on his face. Oliver applauded, “Thee didst such a wonderful job! That deer nev'r saw it coming!” but his face then fell somber, “twas a shame we only managed to shoot one, doth thee bethink we've gone rusty?” But the centaur shook his head, “It ay practices mebbe, but definitely nae terrible.” They stopped in front of the campground, where Orion was found sitting alone by the RV. Kardok opened his mouth to ask, but was immediately stopped by the clone’s sudden remark, “Yes, the grill is ready, do what you need to do so we can eat already. I’m worn out so I can’t help, if I move another muscle I’d just fall apart!” Kardok huffed, seating himself by the fire pit and drawing out his knife to skin the deer and take its meat. Oliver stood by to take the undesirable parts and toss them aside, while also trying not to gag at the stench. Once Kardok had finished carving juicy pieces of meat, he got up to marinade them and put them in the grill.

As he did so, Oliver smiled, “Lest I so my most humble apology thee couldn't cometh, but, I trust that thee enjoyed the silence?” “I did, best three hours I’ve had in my entire existence.” He smiled back as he kicked back in his chair. But Oliver didn’t like that response, just as he was about to retort, Orion spoke up, “Seeing that it’s nighttime and we have a fire going, why don’t we exchange scary stories while we wait for the meat to cook?”

Kardok huffed, “Och yeah, there's th' Fortesque half ay heem...”

Orion rolled his eyes, “It’s a good one, I promise, and it does not involve a self-insert.” Though skeptical, the centaur seated himself back by the fire pit, mildly intrigued by that last detail. Oliver himself sat close by with as much interest. Orion grinned and rested his elbows on his legs when he crossed them, “Salem told me this story, she dropped by earlier to say hi and decided to tell me this frightening tale.”

“They say, that in these woods- for centuries even, has been inhabited by a petrifying, gruesome creature known only as the Wendigo.” He began, “She tells me that Wendigo had lived in Dallington even before the settlers arrived and started building their colony. Though, there is a way to become one of them. This spot where we reside in as of now; was once the sight of an atrocity, the worst that this town has ever seen!” Now color Kardok intrigued! “Gang oan 'en, aam listenin'!” Orion nodded and proceeded with the story, “It was back in December of 1643, the year they had settled, while most settlers stayed within its borders two families didn’t. They were simple farmers, living a mundane and monotonous routine, at least up until the winter came. It had crept up on them so quickly, that before they could expect it, their crops had nearly wasted and shriveled up. Fearful that they would starve, the husband sent his wife, infant daughter, and young sons to live with a friend in town while he, his older sons, and the neighbor and his sons stayed behind to try and salvage for any good crop that may have survived. Alas, it didn’t. By the time they decided to join the others in town it’d had all been too late, the roads had become too treacherous and it wasn’t long until they forced into the farmer’s cottage.”

“Little by little, day by day, their supplies slowly dwindled. The farmer grew more distressed as each minute that passed was another minute without food. The nights were long; the husband began to hear tapping noises, which he had at first ignored. But when food became scarce, the tapping only worsened, growing louder each night until all he could hear in his head was the tapping and the painful growls of his stomach, begging and pleading with him for nourishment,” He continued, “The farmer knew that he and the others would not live to see the first spring if they didn’t eat. On the 50th day, the farmer had a new craving, the last of their food had gone, and now, they had nothing. But he was determined to provide, but to do so have to come at a heavy price. He’d eyed his current occupants, deciding that the fattest would have to go. That night, he ventured outdoors to retrieve an axe, and then crept back inside to his second oldest room. That morning, they had food. The neighbor counted heads and asked where the second eldest went, as usually he’d be down here shoving everything down his gluttonous gullet, but no answer came from the farmer, who was busy gorging himself.”

Kardok could only cringe, he knew exactly what was going on, and dare he think a man could do such a thing to his own flesh and blood. But Orion continued much to his dismay, “But as quickly as it came, it’d gone. And so the oldest of the neighboring family was paid a visit, that morning they had meat again, but the neighbor and his sons refused to eat, they’d become afraid of the farmer. The neighbor had noticed a change in the farmer’s appearance; he’d be seen drooling frequently, he’d lick his lips whenever he stared him and his sons down. They’d tried to leave, but the threatening snow storms threatened to gobble them up, and would shove them back inside, back into the awaiting hunger of the farmer. Eventually, the snow had consumed the cottage entirely, and they knew that they would not live to see the spring. At night, the husband was spotted mumbling to himself; his skin became increasingly paler by each passing day and his hair had grayed and fallen out in clumps prematurely, his eyes would stay open and bloodshot as his hunger kept him up at night, his hands would be shaking as it held the only axe in the house, the only weapon for miles. The creaking floorboards made the neighbor and his remaining sons, knowing of what they’d eaten, beg God for forgiveness as they knew that the farmer would come for them, after all, he was hungry. There was no fighting chance against the farmer. Come spring was when the farmer’s wife returned, opening the door, only then screaming in horror when her eyes laid upon the figure that was once her husband, digging his vicious claws into and feasting on the insides of their oldest son, still breathing, clinging onto life. His eyes rolled back, his arm reach out to her as a warning.”

“It was already too late for him, and it would be too late for her if she didn’t run.” He shook his head, “And that she did, but she never made it out of those mountains. Witnesses claimed to have heard her desperate pleas for help, her cries of agony, but no one came, for they were much too afraid of meeting the same fate.”

Orion concluded, “The wendigo- the horrid creature the farmer had become, was a frightening being of Algonquian folklore, and was born when a man selfishly slaughtered and tasted human flesh in times of famine, the first taste would be nothing, but slowly his mind would only have one thought; he had to have more. And the more he’d get, then the more monstrous he’d become. And although he’d have the food he’d so craved- being at the cost of his humanity, it would never be enough to sate his gluttonous desires.” “Och aye but whit abit th' other kids…? Th' yoonger ones fa biddin wi' their mammy…?” Kardok’s eye widened. “Lucky for them, they thrived within the town’s borders, and never once did they venture past,” Orion grinned maliciously, “For fear that they too would become the meal of the wendigo.” Understandably, Kardok didn’t feel like eating and neither did Oliver, as they’d lost their appetite. Quickly, they scurried into the RV to cleanse themselves and prepare for bed, but they knew no matter how many times they washed their hair or scrubbed their bodies with soap, it wouldn’t be enough to erase the ick of the tale.

Falling asleep was a challenge as well, especially for Kardok. He lied awake, his eye still wide open. He could not erase the horrible details from his head, and why couldn’t he? He was tough! A story like this couldn’t deter him from having fun. This was his trip, his vacation! Whether it was true or not, he didn’t need to know. Maybe tomorrow when they return from the mountains he could drop by at the Gold Room downtown and drown these silly fears with a few beers.

As his eyelids grew heavy, as his muscles loosened from the pressure, and his breathing had become less anxious, he’d finally began to drift off.

But then he heard tapping.

Kardok sat up, but thought, it was just a branch. There was no wendigo here, plus, how would it still be around if no one wanted to come here? Logically, without any victims, the wendigo would’ve died of starvation. Okay, maybe they and Salem being exceptions but it was only fall! If these creatures only appeared in the winter- at least he hoped so, then he had nothing to worry about. But that wasn’t it, as the tapping continued. Kardok lied back down and shoved his pillow over his head to block out the noise, it wasn’t that he feared the wendigo, when something out of the ordinary happens; the least that could be expected was something within logic, the worst was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Perhaps there was a woodpecker or a homeless man trying to grab his attention, or perhaps it was a branch, the RV was parked under a tree, and loose branches were hanging close to the windows. Satisfied with this theory, Kardok began to relax and drift off.

But it wasn’t a branch, Kardok’s eye opened as he’d finally figured out what was causing the tapping; he’d seen Orion do it multiple times on their way here.

That was a fingernail.

Slowly, the centaur got up and reached around for a hunting knife, if it was an intruder, then he’d have something to fend them off. He was not afraid; he was Zarok’s Grand Champion! He’d seen much worse in his life, and had committed various atrocities not excluding murder. He’d ripped men apart with his bare hands, and he even shot a man’s eye out! The sound of the tapping bounced around the room, he looked down at Oliver’s sleeping figure, how in the hell could he sleep through all this?

Just as the tapping had started, it immediately stopped as Kardok then heaved a sigh of relief; finally he could rest easy now. At least, he thought so, as the tapping started back up once again, this time it was as if all the fingernails were tapping against the window rhythmically. He could tell that whatever was out there was just trying to get him to come outside, or at the very least annoy him. A sinking feeling in Kardok’s stomach forced him to edge slowly to the window; Oliver had them drawn closed before he went to sleep. As much as he liked it, he wasn’t necessarily fond of the sun getting into his eyes when he woke up in the morning. Reasonable, but considering the circumstance, it made Kardok all the more uncomfortable. With his free hand, he shakenly grasped onto the heavy fabric, the sweat that had accumulated and glossed over his palms was drenched by the curtain.

Quickly, he opened the curtain to see who it was that was annoying him. To his relief, it was Orion, hair strewn all over the place, strands sticking out into the air and covering a portion of his face- well, more so than usual. His eyes had bags under them and he was slouched over, clearly a spitting image of Fortesque. Orion yawned and whispered, “Sorry to wake you up, I had to take a leak but I think I accidentally locked myself out, could you let me in?” Kardok blinked several times, fighting the urge to grin and suppressing his laughter, for Oliver’s sake. Of course this idiot would lock himself out. Kardok quietly exited the bedroom and made his way over towards the door, careful as to not knock anything over, after all, this was Zeal’s RV.

He stretched his arms and his hand then rests on the handle, the door opened, and Kardok poked his head out, turning it to see if Orion had stayed put or was at least standing by the door, but he wasn’t there. He frowned, “Orion, Orion, whaur ur ye? Ah swear, if thes is a prenk aam gonnae make sure ye gie sponge bath duty fur lae ay th' year!” But no answer, only the wind and the crickets could be heard. Strange, where was he? He was outside just a second ago. Grumbling, he shut the door and locked it, if that’s how it was going to be then he could stay outside all night! Kardok went back to bed, and while he managed to get some sleep, it wasn’t long for the tapping to wake him up again. He reached around for the alarm clock; “Its 2 in the fucking morning, what is this man’s problem?” Kardok thought to himself, once again covering his head with the pillow to drown out the noise, “He has the entire woods to use as a bathroom and the forest floor to use as a bed, why can’t he just shut up?” The attempts were once again futile. The only way Kardok could get any sleep was if he just went out there and shut Orion up himself.

As he got up, however, Kardok realized he’d left the curtains open from the last time he’d gotten up. And his stomach dropped like an anchor when he saw that it was not Orion outside. Matter of fact, he wasn’t sure what it was!

This man- no, this creature was tall, gangly and thin. It stood there, gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tightly over the bones. With its bones pushing out against the skin, its complexion an ashy gray, and its icy glossed eyes pushed deep into its dark sockets. It was as if it were a skeleton that had risen from beyond the grave, what lips it had was since long gone, red liquid dripping from between its fangs, though Kardok could see a long, slimy greyish-blue tongue slither out from between the gaps to lap the blood from over its yellowed fangs. And though they were separated by the glass, Kardok gagged at the horrific stench of decay. Granted, he was no stranger to the stench, but this…this wasn’t anything like it! The creature, seeing that Kardok was up, opened its mouth, matted black hair glued to the sallow skin. The maw revealed rows of its needlelike teeth, the hands were gnarly, razor-like talons, and Kardok could spot tufts of stained, matted snow-white fur. Around the neck and barely hiding beneath its fur the creature adorned a necklace made with human bones. And atop its head stood tall and proud, a set of antlers; whether they were that of a deer or elk, Kardok did not care, as he quickly sprang into action and shut the curtains tight. He turned over to Oliver who was still fast asleep, but now Kardok realized, Orion was still outside. Should he go out there? No, it was likely that Orion was a goner. But, Oliver was the kind of man who’d want everyone to stick together, “no man left behind” as they say.

To hell with it! If Orion’s gone, that’s going to be Zarok’s problem! He wasn’t going to go out there and risk dying again for this idiot! He wanted to be outside, so he had to pay the consequences. “Kardok?” he turned to see Orion up and unharmed, “What the hell are you doing? It’s 2 a.m.! Get some sleep.” Kardok blinked, how the hell was he still alive? “What're ye daein'? Ah thooght ye waur ootwith…!” He whispered angrily. “Outside…? Kardok, I’ve been in the RV this whole time, I just got up to take a piss and I came here to grab my flashlight!” Orion whispered back. So much for an honorable sacrifice, but still, it was good to see that he was unharmed. Kardok pinched his temples, “Nae, ye dornt need tae gang ootwith. Jist use th' a body we hae haur…!” “But the loo’s broken thanks to your fat ass!” Orion argued. “Jist use it, yoo're nae gonnae ootwith!” Kardok hissed. But despite his efforts, Orion grabbed the flashlight and proceeded to walk towards the door. He could’ve said nothing, he could’ve just let whatever that was out there snatch him up and gobble him whole, and yet, something within him told him he needed to say something.

Because without thinking, Kardok then blurted, “But there’s a wendigo it thaur…!”

Orion was seconds away from opening the door, he looked up at him and gave him an unamused glance, “Oh my god, Kardok, it was just a story, the wendigo are basic mythology and therefore don’t exist.” “Weel centaurs aren’t supposed tae be real an' yit haur Ah am.” Kardok crosses his arms. He did have a point there.

It seemed like whatever was out there had finally gotten fed up, as the RV began to shake. The sudden movement nearly jolted Oliver awake, while Kardok and Orion went pale as they then heard movement coming from the roof of the RV. “Its oan th' roof…! Its oan th' feckin' roof…!” Kardok panicked. “Then don’t stand there with your dick in your hands, get us out of here!” Orion pulled Kardok out of the bedroom and shoved him towards the driver’s seat. “Ah cannae drife, aam part cuddie…!” Kardok protested as he was forced to sit down, breaking the back part of the seat. “You’re going to be in half if you don’t drive, now floor it!” Orion yelled, “The force should knock this fucker off!” The centaur was fiddling with the keys, finally jamming them into the slot and turning them, but the damn engine wouldn’t turn on. Oh why, oh why did the engine have to go kaput at a time like this? Kardok kept twisting it, uttering “Come on” repeatedly, his voice cracking occasionally and nearly breaking the key when the roar of the engine along with the high beams turned on at last. Just as Kardok was about to put on his seat belt, the wendigo crawled down from the roof and onto to the windshield like a spider, its head turning a full 360˚ and tapping on the glass. Orion and Kardok let out a shriek of terror, Kardok then slamming his front right hoof into the gas pedal, the tires emitting an ugly squeal. Turning the wheel all the way, Kardok began speeding off and out of the campground, madly turning the RV to shake the creature off, but it persisted.

It was no surprise that in amidst the chaos, Oliver would wake up as he was now standing by the breakfast nook grasping onto the kitchen counter and the wooden table for dear life, fully awake and confused. “What's going on, wherefore art we leaving the camp?” But no answer from either was necessary as his eyes were now directed towards the wendigo, he screamed, “Oh mine god, what is that, what the fuck is that!” “Wendigo and it won’t come off!” Just as Kardok answered this, glass shattered in his face as the wendigo had slammed its grotesque antlers against the windshield and with just enough space to hold on, its claws reached in to grab for the closest morsel; Kardok. The centaur began screaming like Jesus was on him; Oliver sprang into action by grabbing a knife from the block, “Hence with thee, demon from hell, back to the icy void from whence thee cameth!” and sunk the blade into its wrist. Blood gushed and spurted out like a geyser, getting into Kardok and Oliver’s faces as the wendigo howled in agony, simultaneously losing its grip on the frame of the vehicle and falling off. The loud, satisfying THUD along with a tremendous bump from beneath their feet made them all sigh in relief. Orion let out a shaky breath, “Good job, Oliver, now let’s get the fuck out of these mountains.”

Way to jinx it, as now they heard sputtering, the RV was coming to a stop.

“Nae…! Nae! Nae! Nae! Nae! Dornt teel me 'at hin' hud fucked wi' th' engine!” Kardok hyperventilated. Unfortunately, it had, as within seconds, the RV had come to a complete stop. “Fuck!” He slammed his fists against the horn; the noise could be heard for miles. They couldn’t stay here, the windshield was already smashed and none of them knew how to kill a wendigo. And no doubt the creature was not too far away from them, and it wouldn’t be long until it recovered and came back for a second round.

Oliver had never seen Kardok flustered before, normally he was fearless- hell, he was Fear itself! But to see him reduced to this, it made him feel lost. Kardok was the one with all the knowledge, experience, and power to kill whatever crossed his path. But that was when they reigned in Gallowmere; this wasn’t Gallowmere, this was 21st century America and everything around them was a complete stranger to them. He didn’t know if they could kill a wendigo or not, heck, they might not live to see tomorrow if they don’t end up as a happy meal to a cannibalistic juggernaut. And rebuilding a body once it’s reduced to a chewed up, bloody mush was no easy task! Orion paced around for a moment to think; a lightbulb went off as he then whipped out a phone- a gift from Zeal he’d received a while back, and thank god, he was likely within close proximity of a telephone pole because he had bars! He switched the data on and typed into the screen. Kardok was appalled, “What're ye daein', thes is nae time tae be textin'!” “Shut up, I’m doing some research and it just might save our asses!” Orion snapped. A minute passed, and Kardok spoke up once again, “Och mah god, coorie up!” “Just a second, and…got it!” Orion beamed, “Okay, we can temporarily disarm the beast with silver blades, that knife Oliver used must’ve been made out of that. And it says here they hate fire, it’ll get pissed off but it should buy us extra time to run!” “And what about killing t, how doth we killeth t?” Oliver queried. “Stake it through the heart with a silver axe, lock it in a silver box, and bury it in a cemetery or churchyard,” Orion read the passage on his screen, “Use the axe to dismember the wendigo, salt each body part and either burn it or scatter the pieces by burying them in far, separate, and inaccessible locations like a well or lake.” “But we don't has't an axe, or knowledge of any nearby wells or waters.” Oliver shook his head. “'en that's it, we're fucked!” Kardok shouted. “Not if we leave the mountains, a small detail I left out was that the wendigo never ventures past its territory.” Orion frowned, slipping his phone into his pocket and opening the door, “We don’t have a lot of time, that wendigo might’ve healed by now, if we don’t move it’ll get in and devour us all.”

He was right, and before stepping out of the vehicle, Kardok armed himself with a few knives, a lighter, and a bottle of hair spray, just to be safe. Why he had a lighter and hairspray in his possession, no one knew, but at a time like this, it was best to keep silly questions until they were back in town. Plus, a makeshift flamethrower would be handy! Off they went, Orion using his phone’s flashlight as a means to guide him and the others towards civilization. Thanks to Kardok’s reckless driving, they weren’t that far off from the borders that separate the woods from the town.

As they wandered through the woods, the group stayed huddled together, and by that, it meant riding on Kardok’s back- Oliver in the back as the lookout, and Orion as the guide. Aside from the flashlight, it was pitch black outside. The dark clouds had swallowed the moon whole, not a star was out to light up the sky either, every tree trunk reminded Kardok of the wendigo’s horrific dried up skin, every twig that snapped beneath his hooves made his stomach jump. His upper body was shivering despite the cozy sweatshirt he had on, an icy chill breezed past him, tickling the hairs on the back on his neck and goosebumps popping from the skin. He could swear the winds were whispering his name, he wanted to stop, but he knew that if he did he’d be condemning him and his comrades to the mercy of the wendigo.

They weren’t sure how long they’d been wandering, but clearly it was too long since the sun was beginning to rise. And by the time they reached their neighborhood, it was 5 am, and they collapsed on their driveway. The men were sleep deprived due to their paranoia and therefore on edge after their walk that they’d failed to notice the squad cars outside Nebby’s house! But in all honesty, they didn’t care what happened, it was likely nothing compared to what they’d just endured.

To add insult to injury, an RV was sitting on their driveway, and out stepped Salem. “Oh hey, lost your RV?” Oliver raised his head and nodded, “We hadst an accident last night and we hadst to walketh home...” “Sorry to hear that, boys,” She consoled, “Oh, and my Uncle Mason said you guys were a lot of fun to hang out with, he wants to do this again next year!” If Orion hadn’t been as exhausted as he was, he would’ve said something snarky. But, something about that sentence didn’t make sense, besides, wasn’t her uncle dead?

Halloween night, unfortunately, Nebby’s plans to take Tim to the festival fell on its back when he’d displayed symptoms for the stomach flu. Turns out McDonald’s for dinner yesterday wasn’t a good idea, who knew his stomach could be as fragile as it is? Clearly he wasn’t lovin’ it! Still, Tim was not about to let that minor setback keep him from enjoying his first Halloween ever! He decided that he should stay behind and pass out candy while Nebby, Ann, and the rest go out to enjoy the festival downtown. After all, there was always next year. Before leaving, Nebby had set up the sofa to make it so Tim was comfortable and provided a waste basket in case he needed quick access. She’d just about finished adjusting the tiara and pencil on her costume, the others had already arrived; Ann was dressed as a ragdoll- a character named Sally, Una invited herself dressed in a spider web poncho and her hair done up in a high ponytail, Winston and Willow dressed in red jumpers with the tags, “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” on them with the tips of their hair dyed with temporary blue hair dye, and Sodreco…Sodreco was a unicorn. It took all within Tim’s power to not start laughing when he first saw it, and a good thing too, his stomach was currently in agony. “Remind me what you’re supposed to be again.” Winston looked up and down at Nebby, who posed heroically and declared, “Wonder Ramsay! I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be Wonder Woman or Gordon Ramsay, and Tim said if I liked both, then I could be both!”

Willow giggled, “It looks strangely enough, very fitting on you! If I were a judge at the costume contest, I’d give you points for originality and creativity!” “Yeah well, if only I had a whip and a whole slew of TV shows to complete the look.” Nebby shrugged, “That would’ve been perfect.”

Winston seated himself next to Tim, who decided to rest his head on his shoulder. In response, Winston wrapped an arm around his sweetheart, “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay here and keep you company? I feel bad leaving my sweetheart alone on Halloween night.” “Its fine,” Tim smiled weakly, “I doubt there’d be a lot of ginger ale at the festival, plus, I don’t think I can keep myself standing up for more than a few minutes. And who else is going to hand out candy to those trick-or-treaters?” “Oy, Tim! You know what to give to the adults with crappy costumes, right?” Nebby called. “Ms. Nebula, I’m not handing out three year old M&M’s and bubblegum.” The archer frowned. “It was worth a shot.” She shrugged once again. Winston laughed, then gave Tim a quick peck on the lips, “Alright, I trust you. There’s always next year, I guess.” Ann joined in, “We can pick up candy for you, if you’d like.” Tim sat up, “Ooh! Yes, plenty of peanut butter cups and chocolate!” Sodreco smiled, going over to ruffle his student’s head, “You can only have them when you’re feeling better.” To which Tim pouted playfully.

Nebby, who had broken off from the group earlier, had just returned, “Alright, all doors and windows are locked, curtains are drawn, I’ve signed into Netflix, and there’s chicken soup and ginger ale ready for you on the counter.” “Thank you for your kindness.” Tim smiled warmly, “Though, if I may ask, why latch up the whole house?” “To prevent any drunken morons from breaking in; happened to me last year and it was a bitch getting all those frat boys out of my basement.” Nebby cringed, “I still remember the togas.”

Willow felt a tug on her onesie; she turned to see it was Una, whom after getting her attention pointed to the time shown on her lock screen. She concluded, “And speaking of drunks, I think we’d better get going, they’ll start coming in around 8.” “Ah fuck, you’re right.” Nebby grabbed her keys, “We’ll be back soon. Call us if there’s an emergency or if Zarok’s at the door, call Zeal.” “Have a good time.” Tim waved as she exited the house. Winston bade him goodbye by giving him another kiss, “Happy Halloween, my sweetheart, get well soon.” “And to you too, have fun, love.” He watched as he and the others left. Once they were all gone and the front door locked with a satisfying click, Tim lied back down…until he felt lightheaded. Thank god he was alone.

The first wave of trick or treaters came at least ten minutes after the group had left, and for a minute, Tim thought there wouldn’t be enough candy to last him the night. But thankfully he’d located the piles upon piles of extra candy, so all worries were set aside. This neighborhood housed a lot of kids, and he wasn’t exaggerating, there was a lot! Tim got up- on average, of 6 times every ten minutes to hand out candy. Though it may sound like an annoyance, it really wasn’t. Tim enjoyed handing out candy, and seeing them dressed in their costumes, whether store-bought or handmade made him happy. Heck, he just might be able to pull through! The last wave of trick-or-treaters came around 7:30 pm, ending with a little brunette boy dressed in the exact same costume as him. He ran through the decorations set up by Nebby on the front yard, and came to the door accompanied by his blonde mother. The boy held out his bag in excitement as Tim answered the door one final time. “Trick-or-treat!” the boy was grinning from ear to ear. Tim handed him a generous portion of candy, dropping them into the child’s bag. He swore he saw those eyes light up like stars as he looked at his mother, “Momma! Look! He’s dressed like me!” “I see that, my little warrior,” She giggled, “Now what do we say?” To which the child nodded and chirps, “Thank you, Happy Halloween!” “And to you too, have a good evening! Be safe out there!” Tim laughed as he watched the pair exit the premises. As he closed the door and locked it, he couldn’t help but feel that those two reminded him too much of his own mother and himself when he was a child. Fond memories they were, being an energetic youth yet at the same time oddly shy, the only bounds being his own imagination, which seemed almost endless. Maybe, if he’d been born another time, Tim would’ve been able to have unique memories like Trick-or-Treating. But it wasn’t like he could pick and choose when and where his life would take place.

His thoughts were interrupted by another pang of pain in his stomach, a sign that he’d been standing for too long and needed to lie down, he groaned and sulked back to the living room to lie down. Tim reached for the remote and hit the play button, continuing a movie he’d decided to watch on Netflix. The movie was called, “Halloween”, and it was about a masked serial killer that struck only on Halloween. Simple plot, but hey, it didn’t need anything grand for it to be good. According to Nebby- who recommended it, said it had a low budget but still managed to scare audiences across the country!

As the movie progressed, right as the killer was about to stab another victim to death, Tim jumped to the sound of the landline going off. Strange, he hadn’t heard that thing go off in weeks. Nebby made it abundantly clear to all telemarketers that she was not interested and to remove her from the call-list. She also had a rule about the landline, to which Tim quoted under his breath, “If it’s important, they’ll call again or leave a message.” And just as he’d predicted, after the first ring, the phone went off again. Ah, so it was important. Tim carefully got up, “Just a minute…!” Thankfully, he’d reached the phone, which was in the hallway; he picked it up and answered with a “hello”. He expected it to be either one of his friends calling to check up on him, but was instead met with heavy breathing. Now this was unusual.

Confused, Tim repeated, “Hello?” But all he could hear was heavy breathing.

This had to be Nebby calling; she was probably already drunk and butt-dialing the house. He rolled his eyes as he hung up, but before he could return to his seat, the phone rang again. Okay, this couldn’t be a butt-dial. But Tim didn’t want to answer it; he wanted to hear the voicemail. He got what he asked for, and what did this oh-so elusive voicemail consist of? If your guess was heavy breathing, then you’d be correct. This was definitely no coincidence, and Tim was now mildly annoyed. Those kids and their prank calls, ha! Tim decided that it’d be best to ignore the calls and let them go straight to voicemail. And while he felt like he’d made the right decision, he couldn’t feel as if something were off.

Two hours passed, and the calls had slowly become more frequent, and now Tim was annoyed. He couldn’t even enjoy the movie or even take a nap! Just how persistent were these kids anyhow? “That’s it, if these kids call one more time, I’m going to scream!” He grumbled. And what happened next? The phone rang. Tim growled, “That’s it!” with all the strength he could muster, he stomped over to the phone and as soon as the heavy breathing started, he let loose the angriest, most irritated scream he could conjure up. “There, see how you like having your ears bleed!” and he slammed the phone back into the receiver. He slumped back into his seat, just in time to receive a facetime call from Nebby. He answered, revealing his friend at the bar. He smiled, “Oh, Ms. Nebula! Hello!” Seeing her face calmed him down, it almost made him forget about those obnoxious calls. “Hey Tim, how’re you holding up?” She frowned, “You don’t look so good.”

“Ah, I’m a little irritated right now.” “Ah shit, is Netflix not working?” “Netflix is fine, it’s these phone calls I kept receiving.” “Are stupid kids calling the house phone?” “Yes, and they’ve been at it for two hours, I fear I’m getting more weary just thinking about it!” “Two hours? That seems a bit too dedicated if you ask me, are you sure it’s kids?” “Considering I just screamed into the speaker, I hope it is. Maybe they’ll learn their lesson.” “Oh yeah, you’re going to get a lot of those calls on Halloween, don’t worry.” “Oh! How was the festival?” “Wild, taking a break though, your boyfriend’s got the munchies and I need a drink!” “Just not too much, you have work in the morning.” “I know, I know. Okay, looks like everything’s all good here, I’ll let you go.” “Thank you, I’ll see you soon!”

Just as he hung up, lo and behold, the house phone rang once again. Tim was appalled, just how dedicated were these kids? He groaned, getting up to answer the phone, “Okay, I don’t think I’ve made myself clear; Stop. Calling. The house! What’s wrong with you? I’ve been sick like a dog all day, all I ask is for a nice night to watch movies and recover. I can’t get any of that done when you’re calling me every five seconds! If you call again, I will alert the authorities!” He was about to hang up when he heard a gruff, distorted voice, “Don’t forget to turn off the stove.” Turn off the stove? He turned his head to peak into the kitchen, and wouldn’t you know it, the stove was on. Bewildered, he set the phone to the side, and then crept over to the stove to turn it off. How did he know about the stove? And besides, the stove was already off when Nebby and the others left. These were no kids he was dealing with, but a lonely man stalking him.

Great, now he was the teenage girl home alone, just like in those horror movies!

And Tim couldn’t be more irritated. So much for a good first Halloween, it was bad enough already he was sick! He’d forgotten to hang up, as the voice then asked, “Do you like clowns, Tim? I bet you like clowns.” No, he didn’t. He didn’t like clowns, but he wasn’t about to tell this stranger that. He placed the phone back onto the receiver after hanging up yet again, now feeling slightly uncomfortable. “How did he know my name…?” Tim’s eyes widened slightly. But then his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, wait a second…He grabbed the phone and dialed the number. Zarok’s croaky voice answered, “What do you want, Andrews?” “Zarok, I know it was you calling me! Do you have any idea what time it is?” He placed a hand on his hip.

“I was, but then you screamed into my ears, you worm!” “Good, I hope I ruined your ears, now will you stop calling me?” “I did, I did stop calling you!” “Then why did you ask me if I liked clowns? I hate clowns!” It was silent on the other end, and Zarok answered in a confused tone, “You hate clowns?” “Yes! You asked me if I liked them! And before that, you told me the stove was on! Don’t tell me you broke into the house again!” It was silent again. Tim huffed, “If I look out the living room window right now, and I see you standing there, I will get Ms. Nebula’s handgun and put a bullet somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine!” He walked towards the window, pulling back the curtains to see what was in the front yard. Standing underneath a lamppost was a figure dressed in a clown suit, mask and all. It even had a phone held up to its ear. Tim grinned in triumph, getting his other phone to take a picture, “Aha! Now I’ve got you! I see you there, trying to scare me, well let’s see how you like it when squad cars are congesting your driveway!”

He then heard another voice on the line, a bit of bickering in the background and eventually, Zeal’s voice was on the line, “Hello? Timothy, is that you?” Wait. Zeal’s talking to him. There was only one person outside. “Y-Yes, yes it’s me.” He trembled.

“Timothy, it’s midnight, I’d hate to be rude, but you really shouldn’t be calling at this hour.” “O-Oh, yes, I-I understand. I’m sorry, but he’s been calling me repeatedly and…” “I see, I’m sorry about that, and Nebula told me you were sick, you poor man.” “Yes, I am. Don’t worry, I’m recovering.” “That’s good! My brother said you were about to call the police?” “N-No, I’m sorry, I think there’s someone else responsible for the calls.” “Calling you after 8 pm? Oh no, I believe you’re mistaken, Zarok is asleep at that hour. Is everything alright over there?” “Do you want my honest opinion? No. There’s a weirdo in a clown suit standing outside the house, and now…I’m afraid.” Tim looked away from the window, the curtain drawing back. Okay, okay, so there was a man stalking him, likely another if the stove was on. Zeal was beginning to sound uncomfortable, “Timothy, Timothy if you’re in danger, get out of the house! I’m going to call Nebula right now!” Tim looked at the curtain, and as tempting as it was to leave them alone and leave, he had to see if the clown was within close range of the yard. When he did, Tim was relieved to find that the clown was gone. He sighed in relief, “No, no, its fine now, the clown is gone. Besides, I know how to-“but as he turned around, he then came face to face with a rubber clown mask.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like clowns?”

Tim let out the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever made in his life, dropping the house phone.

Police units arrived at the Donk residence within twenty minutes after Zeal tipped off police officers and explained that a home invasion was in progress. Nebby and the others arrived later than that thanks to traffic, and were alarmed to see cars parked out in the driveway. Winston and Sodreco burst out from the backseat when they saw a masked intruder being led out in handcuffs, covered in blood. Assuming the worst, they entered to find Tim, alive and well, lying on the sofa covered in blankets giving a statement to the police. “- I’d assumed it was a prank, but when they addressed me by name I knew it was no prank.” He concluded. “Timothy!” Winston hurried over to embrace him, “Timothy, what happened?”

“Your boyfriend managed to beat up and perform a citizen’s arrest on an escaped criminal.” The officer informed him, “From the looks of it, he threw the suspect out that window,” he pointed to a shattered window, both heard Nebby outside screeching, “OH MY-! FUCK me with my own FIST! He broke my fucking window!”

“Subject wasn’t able to speak due to a brutal punch or kick to the throat, and well, let’s just say he beat him to a pulp and call it a night.” The officer chuckled, “We’ll still be collecting evidence, however.”

Winston blinked, then looked at Tim, “Sweetheart, you did all that?”

“What? I hate clowns.

#Donk and Sparrow #((had to post here since DeviantArt says the file was too big))

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