Page 20 of The King of Halloween
“Evening,” he greeted them, then tipped the top hat toward the mayor’s wife. Mrs. Melnar stared him up and down like she could read every sin tattooed across his flesh.
“What are you supposed to be?” Mrs. Melnar asked, sneer at the ready.
“A dashing vampiric count,” Adam said. He nearly gave a twirl to bring out the cape, then thought better of it. Thirty-year-old men didn’t twirl.
Mrs. Melnar leaned closer, her glasses pinched so tightly to her nose, that the skin bulged. Holding onto the frames, she stared at Adam, then tutted. “You look foolish.”
“Isn’t that what Halloween’s all about?” he asked innocently before his voice darkened. “Fools getting what they deserve?”
“What?”
“I’m running a little haunted house in my store’s basement. Free to anyone who buys something in store.” Which meant nearly all the kids in Anoka now had a pint of fake blood at their disposal. It was gonna be a sticky, stained Halloween.
“Really?” the mayor’s wife gasped. “Reggie didn’t say anything about a second haunt.”
Adam’s lips twitched, but he managed to fight back his smile. “No? It must have slipped his mind. Nothing too elaborate. I was going for that small-town feel.”
“You mean cheap,” Mrs. Melnar cut in.
“Authentic,” Adam said, then he flinched. “I don’t mean it’s actually haunted. The bodies aren’t real. Not that there are any bodies. Dead or otherwise.” He took a steady breath and smiled. “It’s traditional.”
No store-bought props, no elaborate lighting shows. Everything was done by hand, by him, at two in the morning. Okay, there might be some authentic blood on the mannequins attached to strings. He’d been in a hurry to get it finished in time for opening. No fancy Hollywood type would open his veins for a haunt. Everyone knew it wasn’t really Halloween until the first hot glue burn.
“We should put this on the tour,” the mayor’s wife declared, and Adam beamed at her. He’d been planning on emailing the committee tomorrow once word got out, but coming from her was even better. She finished jotting down a note in her phone, then looked at him. “You are coming to the festival this weekend.”
“The Halloween King wouldn’t dare miss it,” Adam declared. He had a crown to defend. “Would either of you like to…?” Adam started to direct them to his little makeshift haunt when a great howl shattered the air.
All three heads swiveled to find a silhouette standing on the trunk of a car. Hair sprouted from places it shouldn’t, and the monster tipped its long nose back for another howl. With a great thunk, three other creatures of the night scampered along the sidewalk. Adam’s first instinct was to protect his costume—it was a replica fromKiss Kiss, Fang Fang. Luckily, his second was to protect the women, whom he valiantly strode in front of.
The creatures skulked closer, teeth drawn and dripping with radioactive acid. A flash of light landed on the lead’s head, puncturing the jet black matted hair, wrinkled brow, and tattered snout of a werewolf. Beside him walked a creature of gills and scales, and behind that one a…disco ball? Tiny pieces of glass reflected back like a fly’s eye, but they were also across the forehead, down the cheeks, and chin. Adam had never seen anything like it before, but he recognized it right away.
“Great, more weirdos,” Mrs. Melnar harrumphed.
“Oh, they’re masks.”
Yes. Masks. “Excuse me,” Adam called out to the teenage boys having fun terrorizing people. He stepped out of the spotlight of his store and into the fading evening. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the scrutinized details. The hand-painted veins and capillaries, so lifelike they looked about to pulse. The texture added to the skin until it damn near glowed with a flush of excitement.
They were Baph’s all right, but ones he’d never seen in his life. That wasn’t possible.
“Where did you get those masks?” Adam asked.
“What’s it to you?” the werewolf asked below the latex. He breathed heavily, deflating the snout.
“I just thought they looked dope and would like to get my own, dawg,” Adam said.
The boys turned to each other, then started to laugh. “At that new dungeon past the gas station. They’re selling tons of ‘em,” disco ball declared.
The dungeon past the gas station…?Choudhary.
How? He had an exclusive deal with… If she… Ah!
The werewolf gave one last howl of defiance, which would have meant something if he weren’t five-foot-three and skinnier than a lamppost. Then he scampered off with his crew, who were all wearing masks worth hundreds of dollars.
“Nice to see the children getting into the spirit,” the mayor’s wife said to a dismissive snort from Mrs. Melnar.
Adam took a calming breath. Then he counted backward from ten. Smiling widely, he turned to the ladies. “If you will excuse me. I must be off.”
I have a grave to dig.
