sheehalloween - Tumblr blog

sheehalloween · 1 year

Text

🍂 🎃 🍂 Sheehalloween 2022 🍂🎃🍂

Ded & Gonne’s

Devil’s Night Part 3: A Green Man

<<———😵‍💫———>>

AN: I’m chopping a huge post down into manageable chunks. Hope you enjoy. Triggers: two not-brothers flirting, my sense of humor, treasure hunts, kitchens. Ded & Gonne is and will always be a gen fic.

Ded & Gonne || Devil’s Night || Start || Prev || Next wip!

<<———😵‍💫———>>

“Is there such a thing as a sub-sub-basement?” It’s Klaus asking.

They’ve emerged from a non-descript door on an oddly ornate hallway. Lots of gilding. Crowns. Mouldings. Cherubs all over the place, a green man, and a gargoyle or two here and there. Wyrd-looking little squidgy symbols in random places, like the carpet, and light switches. A complete suit of armor. Other fancy stuff rich people would buy. For a really fancy sub-sub-basement.

Klaus asks, “Which way, Bennerino? This is your story, after all, and you get the honors of directing the particulars. You could even order me around, if that would cheer you up.”

That would definitely cheer Ben up. He needs to find a way of keeping Klaus willing to be bossed around indefinitely. Problem for another day.

Turning back to his not-brother, Klaus decides that Ben’s facial expression isn’t one to be trifled with. He can put off trifling for a while, for Ben’s sake. “Yes, dear one?” Klaus responds with fluttering lashes.

Ben swallows heavily. He wants to kill Klaus, but that would be a little too on the nose for Devil’s Night. “Shut up and tell me how the hell this Devil’s Night thing is supposed to be a story. What exactly about this thing screams story to you?” is what Ben had wanted to say. Instead, he attempts the word “story” with a question mark at the end. Unfortunately, the explosive breath required by the word “story” is not available at the time due to losing his vocal chords. So he splutters a bunch of consonants, hoping “s,ry?” is close enough for Klaus to unpack.

Klaus unpacks. “Simple, Ben. We scare the shit out of each other as many times as possible between sundown and sunrise on Halloween morning. And then we get to tell everyone a bunch of awesome stories about how scared we got. Didn’t Dad make you guys play this?”

“Nnn,” Ben rasps his answer, and attempts to sigh a sigh of forbearance. Such a martyr, that Ben. “Storytelling? I’m sorry. But storytelling wasn’t a thing at the Sparrow Academy,” he would have responded, voice thick with disdain (rather than pain). Instead, he gives up and shakes his head, no.

“Really? Dad thought it was really important for our missions and the fate of the world that we tell good stories.”

“Namae nnnsense,” Ben whispers, lip curled, without explosive letters, and eyes squinting in doubt and pain.

“Sure it does. Like, ‘It was a dark and stormy night near Boston, when a short man — about 5’2” maybe, with a mustache, and a muscular build which looked really odd on such a tiny individual. He wore black leather jeans way too tight to hold out hope of ever producing enough live swimmers to father a child one day, a lime green t-shirt, and a lime green Mohawk. A caucasian male driving a 2012 Honda Civic Hatchback — beat me up and left me for dead at mile marker 25 on the Mass Pike heading west, before the Framingham exit. The license plate was suspicious.’ There. That’s a story. A really short and helpful one.”

“Cool story, bro,” says Ben, back to his eye-rolling sarcasm. It comes out more like a tiny, “Lll rrry, ro.” Again, the explosive letters giving him trouble. The humming, nasal letters, not so much.

A sharp left and on down a dark-ish hallway leads them to what Ben is guessing was once the belowstairs area for kitchen staff. A lightswitch proves the electricity still works, shocking, and a few footsteps into the largest room gives them a clear look at their treasure. At an industrial kitchen.

The layer of dust on the kitchen floor alone is at least an inch thick. Like an actual, measurable inch. Walking through it feels like disturbing freshly fallen snow. Plus the room has that eerie quiet that hangs over everything during a snowfall. Not a soul has traversed the room in, well, as many years as it takes to gather an inch of dust. The surfaces are even worse, which, if you really think about it, is not normal. Being abnormal in the sense that it lacks logic in almost every way.

It strikes Klaus as odd that the room lacks any trace of smell. On the contrary, it is a particularly noticeable freshness after what they’ve just come through.

No scent at all. Not musty, nor antiseptic, nor lemon-scented fresh. Nor like shit water, rot, or dead things. Ben smells no scent of freshly grilled and steaming fillet mignon, left to rest in peace, while the drippings are kept at a rolling boil for the Yorkshire pudding. As if food has never been prepared in this room. Not a sign of grunge, nor of stained surfaces. The kitchen appliances, the paint, the cabinets, countertops, all of it appears a lot newer than the rest of the, well, the rest of the entire building, actually.

The cupboards are officially bare. Officially. Not a dish nor a plate, let alone grilling utensils. And certainly no booze. And you know as well as anyone else that Klaus is a pro at finding booze, so, naturally, he’s checked. Like he’s really checked very hard.

Retracing their steps, a sharp right leads them out of the belowstairs quarters. On their way back, they continue beyond their original point of entry, and past more of the wyrd finery. This end of the hall culminates in a formal dining room. Don’t picture the one where Luther and Sloane got married. It’s not that cavernous, nor as twinkly and sparkly. But it’s got something the wedding didn’t. ooooWOOOOoooo

Standing in the room’s entry, Klaus is struck dumb. (P.S. That’s a miracle, by the way. Never happens.)

The entire room is occupied by only one dining table. The opulence of that dining table and its chairs is remarkable. So is the length. “It’s long. Longer than you were picturing, isn’t it, Ben. Like, stupid long,” Klaus remarks. “Normally I’d say who has room for that? But the room is that big, so I guess they got what they paid for.”

Against the far wall stands a massive, totally unexpected, green man.

As with every other room they’ve investigated (peeked into) thus far, the dining room is thick with dust, which kicks up from the floor into swirling eddies as they pass. The glass in the French doors is covered in a layer of fine silt. Not just dusty, but clinging to the windows as if coated and trapped there in an oily substance.

Ben now has a greater sense of foreboding than the foreboding he’d already been having, because the room, for all its opulence, has no windows. Possibly because it’s a sub-sub-basement, but it could be for other reasons, too.

“Look!” Klaus whisper-shouts, pointing at the green man. “It’s a green man!” He approaches the huge face. He can see that it had been cast in some sort of metal. The pink kind. A man’s face, and only his face.

Ben stands back to take in the whole of it. Oval, tapering at the top and bottom. Almost like a huge imitation of a battle shield. A ceremonial shield. Definitely not pretending to be a shield for a fight, Ben’s thinking. Not with this kind of ornately sculpted surface. No, this is pretending to be a ceremonial shield, or one a king would take to a fancy dinner.

Ben wants to boast to Klaus that he knows battle armor. Like actually knows battle armor. But he can’t speak. So he dusts the cobwebs off the memory in his mind, puts it back in its filing cabinet, and shuts the imaginary drawer. (He uses the memory palace technique for remembering stuff. It is scarily effective.)

Dad had taken them on an outing to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which boasts an entire hall full of battle armor. A huge hall with high ceilings and real suits of armor for real dead people against the walls. In the center of the space, six or so war horses are kitted out in actual horse armor for actual horses. Knights in real battle armor ride them. Ben sighs at what had been the beginning of a beautiful love affair, hears it, and reels himself back in instantly. Evil, he reminds himself. Think evilly, not scholarly.

He couldn’t even guess what the weight of that thing would be to hang. It’s a sculpture. Copper? He inspects it closely. Nah, that whole thing can’t be solid copper, that’s insane. But the green patina that copper takes on over time is only appearing in a few tiny places.

Ben has been fascinated by something other than conflict so rarely in his life, that he doesn’t even realize he’s been sucked in. “It’s not green yet. So what are you on about?”

Klaus turns slowly around, with the careful excitement of a small child who is in love with a new toy, but is afraid that even though his daddy gave it to him, he is about to take it right back out of Klausie’s little baby hands. “Ooh! Ooh! I know this one.” Klaus stands up straighter, and holds his hands behind his back, while trying not to bounce on his toes. He speaks as if he’s giving a report. Maybe one of those ‘stories’ he used to like so much. “They are pagan protector spirits or elementals in the Celtic lands stretching all the way back to the time of the druids. woooooWOOOOooooo, spooky.” Twinkle fingers. “But yeah,” he scritches his beard. “I dunno, though, something smells fishy. Because this big guy over here is a little bit younger than all that.” Scratching his beard, he adds, “It’s not ancient.” He is correct, it’s not ancient.

Klaus steps in closer to check out the detailing. Leaves grow in place of hair. His eyebrows, likewise, have grown leaves. Like an elemental would do. And the mustache and beard, also leaves. Standing up straight again, Klaus returns to his oral report. “Green Men are said to watch over rivers, lakes, streams, and woodlands. Doesn’t he look like he’s surfacing through his greenery? I don’t know about you Benny Bear, but I’m curious just what kind of greenery he’s been surfacing through. Think he’s got a leaf stuck in his teeth?”

Klaus walks up to only a nose’s distance, just to see what he can see, and starts to fondle the green man.

Not quite how it sounds. He’s running his fingers over bits of it, following every swirl in the lines of the oak leaf on one of its eyebrows. Or the lips, which seem about to speak. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall…that green man sure is tall. Am I right, ben? Yeah!”

Ben agrees. Stubbornly, so he doesn’t make it too easy for Klaus to have him around. Old habits blah blah blah whatever.

Thing is, Ben has been watching Klaus stroking down the length of the nose, and onward to the- the whatever it was they were- what were they- the fingers following sinuous lines. He shakes his head free of the hot, pink cobwebs that have suddenly regrown in the corners of his brain.

Klaus isn’t so much in a stupor as he is completely engrossed in his sensory experience, following all those snaking curves and ridges. “Boop!” Klaus pokes the Green Man in the eye.

Silently swinging open, the green man is a door.

No screech, creaks nor groans, no carpet to get caught on, unless you count all the dust. He would have at least expected the door to sound like metal against wood — whatever that sounds like. Or even a “fwoosh” sound. But nothing. Dead air.

“Ben? I’ve got a feelin, man. I’m thinkin like, maybe we shouldn’t go out there, y’know? This door was, it was way too easy. Right? I mean, that, that’s like a secret door, y’know? It should be harder to open.”

Klaus is actually quite shaken by this. “I’ve seen Indiana Jones and I know what it means when something is way too easy to open. Bad things happen. Bad.”

<<———😵‍💫———>>

Ded & Gonne || Devil’s Night || Start || Prev || Next wip!

<<———😵‍💫———>>

Images: If anyone knows to whom I should credit any of these images, please tell me. Middle green man: john-howe.com

18 notes · View notes

sheehalloween · 1 year

Photo

SHEEHALLOWEEN 2022 🔮 Day Nine: Magic

124 notes · View notes

sheehalloween · 1 year

Text

Sheehalloween Day 9: Magic 🪄🎲

80 notes · View notes

sheehalloween · 1 year

Text

The Curse of Wertham Hollow (Misfits x Curse of Bridge Hollow x IT Crossover)

Word Count: 3k Warning: Strong language, mention of death, gore a/n: Happy @sheehalloween everyone! This event has been amazing and it was awesome reading and seeing all your creations. This fic was written before the movie Curse of Bridge Hollow came out lol I just really liked the concept and wanted to use it even without knowing how it would work on the movie. I think it turned out pretty neat (despite having nothing to do with the actual film) with the addition of Pennywise and I hope you all enjoy it.

(Masterlist)

"Don't you think you're a little old for trick or treating?" Nathan asked as he made his way with Lydia and the rest of the gang to the posh part of town where Simon's house was, and by extension, Lyddie's old home as well.

"Why? Do you have something better to do?" She asked defiantly, which was really funny considering she was dressed as Kiki from the movie Kiki's Delivery Service.

Nathan covered his mouth not to laugh, she looked so adorable he simply couldn't take her anger seriously. He was dressed as Tombo as per his girlfriend's request, even though he had never seen the movie and didn't know any of the characters.

The rest of the gang had the most generic costumes, Curtis and Alisha were matching as Danny and Sandy, Kelly repurposed an old dress and added a pointy hat to become a witch, and Simon was L from Death Note (which could hardly be considered a costume without the black wig, it was basically what he wore to bed).

"I think Lyds wanted to see our house," Simon mumbled, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "Dad always goes all out with the decorations and it's her favorite holiday."

Nathan made a face despite deep down feeling kinda bad for her. She had to hide from her own family, her dad seemed like an actually cool guy and he couldn't begin to imagine how much she missed him. All for what? To be with him. It made him feel a little guilty when he stopped to think about it.

"Besides, we're just killing time until the party," Alisha added.

"What sort of party starts at midnight anyway? People have jobs," Kelly grumbled, already tired of having to wake up early every single day for community service. "And I don't even get paid, it's bollocks."

"It's Halloween!" Lydia tried to cheer her up and lighten the mood. "The Midnight Monster Ball is a tradition, besides it's not like Shaun is gonna be watching us, you can take a nap tomorrow while we pick up litter or something."

"Y'gotta find yourself a bloke," Nathan teased. "Maybe this time a different primate, like an orangutan, or a chimpanzee!"

"Shut up, you prick!" Kelly barked.

The banter going down within the group stopped them from realizing something didn't feel right. As they walked down the streets, the number of children was getting smaller, which could be because it was past 10:30, but it wasn't the case.

The lights in the houses were mostly off and instead of creepy Halloween decorations, they saw empty, boring lawns with unkempt grass.

Even the Bellamy house didn't have the traditional zombies and skeletons Lyddie's dad always liked to display, the only reminder of the most beloved holiday in that household was a couple of pumpkins by the doorstep.

"Is dad okay?" She asked, turning a worried frown at Simon.

"I think so, when I left everything was up like always," he narrowed his eyes, trying to see into the house through the window and check if there was anyone home. "I put the stuff up myself with Blossom two weeks ago."

"Do you think someone nicked it?" Curtis asked. "Thought this part of town was a little safer."

"What are the chances? Who would want some old props? Besides, every other house is missing their stuff too," Lydia looked around, her heart sinking with the realization that something twisted was about to unravel.

"Maybe it's a serial killer, only instead of killin', he steals Halloween decorations," Nathan suggested. "Maybe someone wanted t'have the scariest house and wiped away the competition!"

"Do you actually have a brain or is it just echo in there?" Alisha asked mockingly.

Before he could get her with a witty comeback, someone (or something) passed them by. It was massive, at least eight feet tall, and moved with surprising agility for its size.

"Is that the Frankenstein?" He asked.

"The Frankenstein's monster, Frankenstein is the name of the doctor, not the creature," Simon corrected.

"Cool costume," Curtis shrugged before they kept walking to see if the problem with the houses continued on the other blocks.

The streets that just a moment ago seemed desert now were filled with people roaming in elaborate costumes: ghosts, witches, skeletons, demons... and even some more recognizable ones like Ghostface or Michael Myers.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Lydia jumped when a swarm of demonic babies with sharp fangs and red eyes crawled by her feet like roaches.

The exclamation seemed to attract the attention of all the other creatures walking around and as if they were sharing a hive mind, they all stopped what they were doing to stare at the group.

"Lydia... Isn't that dad's old zombie?" Simon's voice cracked when he pointed at the undead man walking among the monsters at the end of the street.

"What? The zombie from your yard just came t'life like some sort of Pinocchio from hell and left?" Nathan laughed.

"Mr. Spencer's grim reaper, Mrs. Callway's vampire, Lana Kadri's ghost bride," Lydia grew more horrified with each prop she was able to recognize. "Run!"

When the group took off to get away from whatever that was, they were followed by a large cloud of bats and a crowd of ghosts, the white ones that look like someone covered in bed sheets.

"Is this about the storm?" Alisha asked.

"I don't know," she stopped to hide under the porch at her parent's house. "All I know is that the decorations I used to see every year are fucking walking around by themselves!"

"That's just great, that's fuckin' amazin'," Nathan groaned, tossing and turning. "What the fuck is this? Fuckin' Scooby-Doo? There are actual monsters out there, what the fuck do we do?"

"Is this just in this neighborhood or do you think it's all over the Estate?" Simon asked.

"How the fuck are we s'posed t'know?"

"Someone has a potty mouth..." a raspy voice called from behind them.

"JESUS! NO! KILL IT!" Alisha yelped, crawling out of their hiding spot only to get up and find herself face to face with the scariest clown she had ever seen, smiling and showing its sharp teeth covered in blood.

"Hey there, Lisha," it called.

"What?" Lydia and the others soon followed when they heard their friend's scream. "Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Mr. Wallace's Pennywise... Shit! This isn't how I pictured meeting Tim Curry for the first time!"

"This ain't Tim Curry, love, that's a demon!" Nathan practically hid behind her in the presence of that creature.

"Alien," she corrected, much like her brother would do.

"Beep beep, Nathan," Pennywise teased before seemingly disappearing into thin air.

"Is he gone?" Kelly asked.

"It, it's pronoun is it..." Lydia mumbled.

To answer their question, a knife dropped from the sky and stabbed the grass right between Curtis' feet before the rain started to pour, only instead of water drops, small needles were falling from the sky.

"Let's get out of here!" Simon warned and they all went inside the house, except for Curtis, who tried, but a pair of hands grabbed his legs from underneath the porch.

"Let me go!" He pleaded, but the rain grew heavier, stabbing little holes all over his arms and shoulders. "What the fuck is this?"

"Let's see if you run again," the clown's voice echoed around him, the same knife that landed next to him, now slashed his ankles, tearing his sturdy achiles tendons completely and shedding a puddle of blood that covered the grass rapidly causing excruciating pain.

Curtis was about ready to faint when he felt another pair of hands pulling him up and into the house, thankfully this time it was Nathan. Once they shut the front door, the cuts were gone, as if they never even existed.

"Fuck, I thought I was done for..." Curtis muttered, grabbing at his legs to make sure he wasn't hurt.

"Nah, we're all fine, we're all- JESUS CHRIST!" Nathan screamed when he found all the others laying on the floor, agonizing as the deep wounds on their chests gushed blood all over the place. "Lollipop! Lydia!"

He got down on his knees and took his girlfriend's body, his eyes filling with tears knowing he would never be able to join her. "Nate, why didn't you save me? It killed me because you weren't there..."

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry," he cried, holding her against his chest, filled with guilt and regret. "Please don't die! Please!"

"Did you hear that?" Kelly asked as she heard Nathan's pained howl from downstairs.

"Do you think he's okay?" Alisha followed her to one of the rooms without even realizing the rest of the group wasn't behind them. "This is so fucked up, Kels, this is worse than anything we've dealt with before!"

A knock on the door made both girls jump. They were terrified to face that creature again, so in an unspoken agreement, they decided not to open it, simply ignoring the banging growling louder and louder.

"Kels! Lisha! It's me," Lydia's voice called.

"Lyds?" Kelly asked.

"Please let me in, it's after me!"

Without thinking twice, Kelly opened the door, but instead of their friend, someone else walked inside. Tim, the video game guy they had met only a while back, with his gun pointed at them.

"Roxxy! Why did you run away from me?" As soon as he opened his mouth, hundreds of tiny spiders spilled out, crawling down his body and up Alisha's. "We were gonna get married, you cunt!"

"This isn't real, you're in jail!" Kelly shook her head.

"Get this off of me! They're getting in my ears, I think I swallowed some!" Alisha squirmed and coughed, trying to shake the spiders away unsuccessfully.

"Alisha?" Simon called, banging on the wall from the other room where he was stuck with Lydia, the real one. "Lyds, do you smell something burning?"

"No, what are you talking about? Where's Nathan?" She paced from one side of the room to the other, hoping he would come through the door, her breathing was getting more labored and her vision was starting to blur.

She felt her chest constricting more and more, heavier with something she couldn't identify, and her throat started to close as if she experienced an allergic reaction. Simon, noticing his sister's struggle, took her in his arms, looking into her mouth when she pointed desperately.

"Oh my God!" He pulled out the object that was choking her: an entire rose, thorns and all. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay? Everything itches, it feels like my skin is burning and falling apart!" Lydia whimpered, her voice hoarse, as she turned to look in the mirror. The reflection that stared back at her was a terrifyingly pale girl with flowers growing all over her face. Leaves came out of her nose, petals spewing from the corners of her mouth. "Simon! Nathan doesn't love me!"

"What?"

"This is hanahaki, Simon! Means I love someone who doesn't love me back!"

"That made-up disease from manga?"

All of her words were drowned out when more rose petals forced their way out of her mouth and nose, stopping her from breathing and piling on the floor in front of her.

"Calm down, we're gonna fix it, it's probably just Pennywise screwing around!" Simon lifted his sister up and opened the door, hoping finding the others would help, but it turns out the smell bothering him was the entire first floor of his house burning down. "Fuck! What do I do?"

"Lydia!" Nathan cried once again

"Nathan!" She was able to choke out.

"Lyds! You're alive? I thought I lost you!" He called from the living room.

Those words warmed her heart and her airways were slowly clearing up, she gasped loudly and jumped to her feet, running down the stairs and pulling her brother with her.

"There was no fire?" Simon mumbled.

"ASBO GANG! LIVING ROOM RIGHT NOW!" Lydia yelled, her voice replenished. "PENNYWISE IS FUCKING WITH US, NOTHING THAT YOU'RE SEEING RIGHT NOW IS REAL! TOGETHER WE CAN SOLVE THIS!"

Kelly and Alisha ran out of the room, mostly to get away from Tim, and soon they were all able to reunite in one place, exactly like the Losers Club had done in the Neibolt house when they were able to defeat the monster.

"Okay, so Pennywise from the Stephen King book 'It' is after us. Turns out the decorations coming to life have the same powers as the characters they are supposed to be and we might be completely out of luck. It feeds on human flesh, and loves the taste of fear, this is exactly what it wants."

"You've read the book, what do we do?" Kelly asked.

"We need to... perform the ritual of Chüd," Lydia murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What the fuck is that?" Alisha screamed, still shaking her hair to get rid of spiders only she could see.

"First of all, I need you all to believe you can kill it. Believe it with all your heart and don't be scared no matter what it shows you. It's all just an illusion, we're in control," she explained. "I'll look into the dead lights and bite its tongue with my mind, I'll fight it in its realm and when it's weak and vulnerable, you lot reach into its chest and rip out the heart, destroy it."

"Wait WHAT? You'll bite the clown's tongue? You gonna french it or somethin'?" Nathan yelped nervously.

"It's all metaphysical, you'll see... Just believe in yourselves and don't let it get into your head. We're together, we're alive, nothing it can do can hurt us if we don't let it..."

"Yeah, okay, we can do that," Simon nodded.

"PENNYWISE ISN'T REAL!" Lydia shouted with such confidence, which prompted a huge reaction from the creature, always very offended by that sort of affirmation.

"Not real?" It growled, coming to her not as a clown or the giant spider she expected, but as Nathan. "Then how come you're growin' flowers everywhere cause I don't love you?"

"I'm not, you are not Nathan and the real Nathan does love me. That's why you used me to scare him. You're no better than a bully and I've dealt with plenty of those in my life, so come at me you fucking wanker!"

"Don't taunt it!" Curtis warned, but Simon shook his head, signaling for him to allow Lydia to do whatever she had to.

"Please, Maturin, help me out..." she muttered as Pennywise opened its mouth wide, showing her the dead lights in the back of its throat.

"L-Lollipop!" Nathan tried to hold her down when her eyes rolled back into her head and her feed left the ground as her body lifted into the air, dangerously close to those sharp fangs. The best he could do was to follow her instructions and believe everything would be okay. "Yeah well, fuck you, clown thing! I've seen pubic haircuts scarier than you! Barry's face is scarier than you, so fuck off!"

"Y-yeah! You're not even a little creepy, we've killed people and shit..." Alisha added.

"You have to believe it, Lisha," Simon whispered. "Lydia is fighting it right now. We have to do our part."

"Fine, alright! You stupid fuck, we're all superheroes, you messed with the wrong people!"

The others quickly understood their assignment and started screaming all sorts of mockery. It didn't seem to be working until the lights started flickering and Lydia finally moved, gasping loudly and sticking her hand into its throat to pull the three glowing orbs out which happened to pull the entire digestive tract of the monster with it, truly a repulsive image.

"Ew! Ew!" Kelly turned her face as her friend dragged a long rope of intestines out through its mouth causing the alien to slowly die in front of them.

"Now! The heart!" Simon stuck his hand into Pennywise's chest and pulled out the first thing he reached, still pulsating even outside of the body.

"I'm gonna be sick," Curtis moaned when Nathan took the organ and smashed it on the floor, stomping it like his life depended on it (and it probably did).

"Is this it?" Alisha asked when Lydia fell on the puddle of weird goo and blood left beneath her. "Did we do it?"

"Did you snog the clown?" Nathan asked almost at the same time, but went quiet when he noticed it wasn't the time for jealousy.

"I think so... killed it, not kiss it," Lyddie sighed. "We better get changed and go home, there's no way-"

Before she could finish, the clock on the wall made a sound to announce it was midnight. A sound she was well familiar with from the time she used to live there.

Once she sat back up, the only thing she saw was a Pennywise plastic sculpture, just like the one she always saw in Mr. Wallace's yard. The goo, the guts, the blood, it was all gone.

"Oh, guess the curse is over?" Lydia gave the sculpture a shove just to make sure it was fake.

"It's no longer Halloween technically," Simon shrugged, feeling rather dumb for wasting all that effort when they could've just waited a few minutes.

"Anyone wanna hit the Centre for that party still? I could definitely use a drink," Nathan sighed dramatically, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Kelly groaned, grabbing the prop so they could give it back to the owner. "Yeah, why not? Let's forget this shit show."

Tag List: @firstpersonnarrator @seanfalco @elliethesuperfruitlover

14 notes · View notes

sheehalloween · 1 year

Text

Don’t Recommend It

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98

Word Count: 3.9k Tags/Warnings: suggestive themes, possession, probably really inaccurate depiction of exorcisms, another cameo from Father Kay, and also a tiny one from Fleabag ;p a/n: A little late, for @sheehalloween‘s Day Eight: Possession.

[ masterlist ]

“Took you long enough, where were you two?” Nate whined as his wives finally arrived. “Church again?“

"We were just there for the service, next time you should come with us,” Lydia suggested, rushing to kiss his forehead.

“No thanks, unlike you I don’t have the hots for the priest…”

“What? You’re crazy,” Win huffed, turning her nose up at him as she passed and Nats snorted.

“Oh yeah, cause you two are suddenly so religious.”

“We’re not, I mean… My mom is Catholic and dad is Jewish so I was raised religious, but I’m more of a spiritual person. Father Kay’s sermons are actually like therapy sessions, they’re just very uplifting,” Lydia said sitting on Nats’ lap, giving him a kiss as well.

“Can you imagine that, man? Turned on by a priest? I run from them…” Nate laughed.

Keep reading

9 notes · View notes

sheehalloween · 1 year

Text

🍂 🎃 🍂 Sheehalloween 2022 🍂🎃🍂

Ded & Gonne present Klaus & Evil Ben

Devil’s Night Part 2: The Descent

<<———😵‍💫———>>

AN: I need to stop re-editing the same five sentences and post something already. For god’s sake, it is actually Devil’s Night right at this very moment. So I’m breaking what had been a huge unedited chapter down into little bite-sized bits. Happy Devil’s Night!

More Devil’s Night! Start Here || Prev || Next

<<———😵‍💫———>>

Why a kitchen, you ask. Klaus and Ben are on an adventure. Call it, “a voyage of discovery.” A treasure hunt where the treasure is booze. Glorious booze. In the name of finding something to calm the rawness of Ben’s throat. (The screaming. Such a small space. So much screaming.)

You should know that after his ten minutes of blind terror and vocalizations, Ben had immediately followed up with a wheezing temper tantrum. His tummy tentacles had even made an appearance, peeking out of Ben’s stomach to see what all the screaming had been about. But he had quickly regained full control of the portal in his bellybutton, then hyperventilated. Just a little.

Though he doesn’t mind public tantrums, Ben would not want you to know about the screaming and hyperventilation, so please don’t bring it up. He’s saving that for his therapist, who he also wouldn’t want you to know about. Moving on.

So who had thought booze was a smart idea for a sore throat, you ask. Both of them, actually. Ben had pictured beer. Klaus had pictured scotch. (But remember, Klaus dies a lot and has developed a higher threshold for pain and scotch.)

More than anything, Klaus had thought Ben really needed to stop freaking out and screaming, already, God. He had liked the idea of sticking something else in Ben’s mouth for a while. Like the aforementioned beer, for instance. Just for a break, you know? So, clearly, booze was the answer. For at least one of them (himself), if not both.

Despite having lived here for 6 months and 12 days, it has never once occurred to Klaus that somewhere in the building, there might actually be a kitchen. Just down their little strip of (heaven) hallway, they’d begun at their old, familiar stairwell. If they were done with the business of scaring each other, then turning toward the stairs had been the only option available to them. If they were still playing Devil’s Night, then turning the other way down their hallway would have been the right choice, definitely. But they hadn’t wanted to do that, at all. Cuz it’s such a long hallway that it just kind of disappears into shadow, and finally into darkness. Yeah, instead of exploring that direction, they turned in the familiar direction, which is what all adventuring explorers would have done in their shoes.

They’ve just passed the ground floor where the shop sits only a few, familiar, empty back rooms away. It had provided them with a swiftly evaporating sense of safety. At the moment, they’re poking their heads through the door to the basement.

“Let’s not go down there. It’s too dark down there,” Klaus whispers, as if they’re hiding. “And it smells.”

Ben nods quickly. (First time Ben has ever responded to leadership so agreeably in his life. Ever.)

“Yeah! I mean…” Klaus eyes the darkness. “Ok bye!” Turning in his spot, he crushes his boa to his chest and flees down the next flight of stairs. Ben feels embarrassed for Klaus. He walks manfully down the stairs. He’s just doing it in double time.

“Klaus.” Ben grab’s Klaus’s arm before he can round the next switchback. “Don’t move.” Klaus stops stock still, because he fought in Vietnam, and when somebody says to stop moving, you do it. With lots of crouching, head-shaking, and military-style pointing, Ben conveys that there are more flights than there should be. He’d counted four switchbacks from their floor to the shop’s floor, and from the shop’s floor to the basement. He points to the landing they’re on, and gives it four fingers. Then points out there’s still one more to go. Five instead of four.

Ben shrugs in a ‘what do you think’ gesture and indicates that it’s Klaus’s turn to say words.

Klaus is fluent in military-style pointing. “Go one more?” he whispers. Why is he whispering? Cuz he’s scared. Rather than whispering for ‘tactical’ reasons, which is why Ben would be whispering.

Ben takes a deep breath, and decides not to ridicule Klaus’s plan. Because it’s the same plan Ben would have come up with. He nods to Klaus, and gives the signal to move down the last flight slowly and quietly.

Klaus thinks Ben’s military-ish approach is adorable, which is definitely not something he plans to bring up. He’s enjoying watching Ben in his element. If his element is creepy stairwells.

Halfway to the bottom, Ben recoils and instinctively covers his nose and mouth. There is a stench rising off this floor that makes it almost impossible to keep descending.

Klaus is experiencing nausea and dizziness, which are not such unfamiliar feelings for Klaus. Ben is not wrong about there being an odor. It’s rot. Reminds him a little of the smell in the furnace room back at the academy. “Jesus,” he gasps. It also smells like shit. His eyes are almost running. “We’re gonna have to get a plumber down here.”

Ben mouths “Sub-basement.” Kind of mouthing the obvious, but he’s under stress. Taking his mouth, nose, and life in his hands, he descends the last step to the ground. The place has a very solid-concrete-on-solid-ground feel to it. So that’s good. It has to be good, right? Coming to the end?

Klaus drags himself down the last step, using the handrail to support him. It’s loose from the wall here at the end, and a few sad little bits of drywall drop to the floor. But that’s weird. Because the hand rails appear to disappear into a wall. Into the wall. A wall in the very spot where a set of steps would have begun its descent, had there been anything to descend to.

Klaus hauls Ben over and silently points to the spot where the railing has come loose, and disappears into the wall. The loose rail has chipped the paint, and white plaster dust falls to the floor where there is already a small pile of such dust and chunks.

To look at, the wall appears hastily constructed. Ben knocks on the wall — you’ll recall that he resentfully likes that sort of thing, knocking on walls. He finds that not only does the wall sound hollow, but it’s also cheap as shit on a biscuit. He didn’t even knocked that hard, but knuckle-sized divots dent the surface, and his hand comes away with more plaster chips falling to join the pile below. He flicks at the paint, and his finger pushes right through.

But into what? …is what both of them are wondering.

Through the hole, he can feel rushing air. Without a second’s thought, Ben knocks the wall in with nothing more than a handful of elbows to the cheap plaster. Behind the fake wall, they’ve revealed a makeshift plywood door, stenciled with the words “No Entry” in dripping orange paint.

15 notes · View notes