A zombie, clown, ninja and Jason go trick-or-treating
The costumed residents on the streets of New Roads, Batchelor, and the other surrounding towns soon were dwindling and any persons foolish enough to venture out for trick-or-treating soon found their costumes soaked in the blood of the innocent. The schools had no children frolicking about and the swing sets sat empty with just the gentle wind to push the empty seats. The playground with its overgrown yard was just perfect for an ambush, hybrid wolves waiting patiently for unsuspecting prey. The roads were desolate along with the various fuelling stations dotted around town. Those needing gas pulling into numerous Gas & Go stations in the area were quickly ambushed.
The full moon had changed some of them to their Wolf like state, each one different from the other depending on their physiological anomalies and how long the parasite had progressed in their body. The people that were infected walked around in the day in a dreamlike state feverishly dreaming about howling wolves, oblivious to their sickness but with the moon’s gravitational influence they were raving lunatics. The infected that had fully changed shadowed the oblivious costumed groups. With savage intelligence, groups of lunatics all in a variety of forms, from ape-like to hybrid Wolves stalked children before encircling them.
In the middle of the street two four-legged hybrid wolves sprinted toward the group in a collision course with one another. Four more lunatics emerged from the murky twilight between the houses. The lunatics who were infected just one month were ridiculously taller than normal so much so that the outfits looked like high-water pants with tight belly shirts with disheveled hair and pointed ears. Though they still had a humanoid form their animalistic eyes were trained on the group. The two legged Wolf-men emerged from both sides of the street the circle getting smaller, the lunatics effectively tightening the noose. The ape-like lunatics who were just shy of nude with fur all over their exposed bodies and only wearing torn rags for clothing watched from the treetops. Unseen by the group were furry legs hugging the high branches long, strong, furry arms and outstretched paws gripping the bark deeply. Extended muzzles all around were exposing drooling sharp fangs. They had varying forms, but they made a cohesive pack with Aticus commanding the groups behind the scenes by yelps and howls.
A ragtag costumed group of adolescents were oblivious to the danger threatening them. They were caught up in conversation. The group comprised of a cheap dime store hooded ninja outfitted with plastic swords and completing the ensemble with a plastic throwing star, a faux fat clown with a red afro and a bulbous red nose, ironically manning this hilarious ensemble was an extremely tall and thin boy, a Superman complete with red cape and a padded shirt imitating the striations in the muscles, and making up the rear a painted up zombie with dirty, torn up shirt and pants, representing his climb up from the grave and a mask of Jason the antihero of Friday the 13th franchise, complete with foam chain on his neck and a hockey mask. They were arguing over which comic book franchise was better, Marvel or DC.
“What was that?” The ninja broke from the group and stared at the trees.
“What is it?” The painted clown asked, looking around the neighborhood side to side.
The clown saw a surreal scene playing out in front of him. They were all dressed up as extremely hairy men like The Wolf Man of 1941 or they were all stricken with Congenital Hypertrichosis. He could see a variance of wolf-men and wolf-like creatures running through the deserted streets. Closer inspections, however, those were not costumed men, not costumes at all, and they were wreaking havoc in the streets.
“I heard something.” The ninja wasn’t looking at the fat clown but instead he stared up at the branches of trees.
A windless evening, the treetops should not be moving at all, much less shaking so violently. One particularly large Wolf stopped in the middle of the road and yelped a sequence of orders and suddenly an ape-like lunatic dropped from the trees.
The kid dressed up like the classic zombie didn’t know what hit him as long claws swiped his neck. A crimson spray re-painted his blue and green rigor mortis face. Unfortunately, the kid dressed up as Jason saw the whole thing.
“What the fuck, man!?” Jason bellowed.
The hockey masked boy could hear the surprised gasp and screams of his friends nearby. He madly twirled around trying to adjust his disguise with the obstructed view of his full head mask. He could hear something huge drop down into the gravel behind him.
The clown tripped on his ludicrously long feet. Two biped lunatics and one quadruped Wolf-thing pounced on the helpless clown sniffing him but the ninja did not stop to help instead he ran for his life. Jason Voorhees froze. He could not see anything but he could hear the slobbering chomping feast from his dying friend as he moaned in pain for another moment, then silence.
The costumed Jason turned around to the sound of growling, but with his mask he did not see a thing. A powerful hand smacked him in the face and the force had twirled his foam latex mask around. Suddenly he could see. It was then he realized that he had been cut up. The hockey mask and the foam appliance had been cut in four parts but he was unscathed.
Jason Voorhees took full advantage of his luck and wound up for one good swing his long plastic ax as if he was in a championship Little League game. The apelike Wolf gave out a howl of pain as the center of the ax smacked into the center of its skull.
The apelike Wolf staggered back in pain the adolescent Voorhees ran to catch up with the ninja, “hey, wait up!”
Voorhees ran for several blocks before catching up with the ninja. He finally stopped with his hands on his thighs and out breath, comfortable enough to look back at his fallen friends. The two hybrid wolves and the furry apelike wolves were feasting on their catch. The four lunatics left the uncomfortable glare of the bright streetlights for the murky shadows between the houses. Somehow the fat clown had escaped.
“We have to get to get the fuck outta here!” The older kid dressed as a ninja ordered his scared friend.
The young boy agreed, clutching his plastic axe like a bat in one hand and finally took his ruined mask off his face with the other, “but what about Brian?” referring to the costumed clown.
“I’m sorry, but I saw him fall and those things were all over him!” The ninja rasped hysterically looking around for pursuers.
Disembodied howls nearby made the boys instinctively drop their play weapons and cover their injured and bleeding ears. The deafening howl had a beacon affect to the lunatics for finding the remaining surviving costumed couple.
Jason and the ninja saw a dozen madmen burst out from the nearby bushes from either side of the street. They had no time to react before the men were upon them. Men with ragged, torn and bloody clothing restrained their wrists. Save for glowing animalistic hungry eyes that were staring directly into the terrified kids’ eyes they looked human. Rough tongues licked exposed flesh.
“Wait!” A stranger growled. Jason and the ninja did not recognize the low and deep scratchy voice.
A tall ragged clown with a bitten and torn fat suit on emerged from the concealment from the crowd. Ninja and Jason stared at the dirty red twisted and out of placed Afro his extended and furrowed brow. A purple and blue bruised visage was visible from beneath his cream-white face paint. He had a smashed in and extended black nose instead of the traditional red nose. The ninja felt steam coming out of his extra-large nostrils.
“Brian!” Jason exclaimed.
The restrained boys saw ludicrously long shoes scuttle forward. The pair could see several bites on his forearms in the rips of his costume that were trying to heal. The clown’s small feet had lengthened to fit his shoes. Brian grinned, revealing his lips that were stretched out, revealing a vicious smile and bleeding gums.
“Brian, no!” The pair both pleaded for their lives.
The chaos went unnoticed by the squad car’s squealing sirens and lights. Capt. Rogers too preoccupied by the task at hand. He had checked his missed messages from his cell phone. The first missed message was from his wife.
He listened to the first message from his wife and waited for the next to play, “Please help me! Please, something is going on here and I think they are following me! I’m sorry, it’s Amy and I am trying to get back to my room at the Point Breeze motel…” She hesitated a moment, then began again, “I know you don’t owe me anything but I think I bit off more than I can chew, please help me…” a moment of silence then she said silently, “I love you, please… hurry.”
He waited for the obligatory set of choices then, next message… “Honey…um, I left work early; I’m taking Hannah and Terrell out trick-or-treating just around the neighborhood. Meet us at Upper Pointe Coupee Elementary.”
“Dammit!” Capt. Rogers swore; he had heard worry and concern in both women’s voices. He slowed the car as A-line factory could be seen in the distance.
Capt. Rogers’ stomach rolled when he realized the coroner, Dr. Jacobs, had been called there. The paramedics were taking their sweet time to load the stretcher with the dead into the ambulance. Apparently his wife had gotten off early; she probably left before the strange events could affect her and he of course worried about her but his mind was on Amy’s frantic call now.
Dr. Jacobs saw the captain before the captain realized it and now he sped for his car before Rogers could do a U-turn, “Boy I’m glad you’re here that factory scares me to death, except for the occasional body it is completely deserted…”
Rogers glowered looking at the doctor’s visage so ashen his eyes sunken in and looking dead. He swore he could even feel the extreme heat that radiated off of the doctor’s body.
The doctor placed a palm on his forehead; his head was killing him like his skull was splitting apart at the sutures. He tried to brush it off but Rogers noticed it and cringed. He could swear that the doctor’s skin on his forehead intermittently rippled.
“Are you alright?” Rogers asked.
Some concern in his voice, but it wasn’t so much concern for him as it was for all the unsuspecting people. His heart beat quickly and goose pimples rose all over his body. Looking up at the full moon he feared the cycle had begun again.
“Oh yes…” As he said this he coughed and gagged then wiped his bloody mouth with a handkerchief.
Years of medical study fell by the wayside. The doctor determined he could not cure what ails him. No biological source could be determined but something far worse, something preternatural was at play. Goose pimples arose on his arms as he heard a haunting howl. It had been obvious to the doctor that Rogers hadn’t heard the ongoing battle cry.
“I have an eerie feeling about tonight, a Halloween coupled with a full moon.” He worried aloud. The doctor was right, Rogers thought about all those innocent kids trick-or-treating.
Rogers reached for his cell phone and dialed the detective, “Jenkins, I need a favor.”
“Would you go and pick up my wife and daughter? I have important things to attend to.” The captain watched as the double doors swung open paramedics coming out with yet another body on the stretcher.
“Okay, Will d…” An abrupt silence… Rogers looked down at his dead cell phone… no service.
Miles away two shadowy wolves, a crimson wolf and one dreadlocked wolf emerge from a shack at the last cell phone tower smoke billowing out before bursting into flames. It effectively quieted a good chunk of the Louisiana area, Internet and cell phones now fell in a circle of silence.