One by one, the flickering orange souls burst from their tethers and fled via smoky haze into the night. Darkness parted along the somnolent street, each pumpkin doused as the owners turned in for November's embrace. A solitary lamppost struggled to catch, its halogen aura snapping like a near empty lighter.
Stepping across the desaturated yellow lines of the road walked a figure. Nearly seven feet tall, with no visible limbs or face, it lurched from the darkness into the unholy light. No children gazed upon it, for they were all slumbering in bed with dreams of vampires, ghouls, and goblins in their heads.
No adults dare glance, their stomachs turned acrid from the holy reminders of death lurking in every nook and cranny of their lives.
There was no sound save the rustle of barren, desiccated leaves crackling against the road as the wind rolled them to the gutter; and the puff of breath from the lurching creature.
No stars dare shine upon such a wretch combing the streets of All Hallows Eve upon the stroke of twelve. Even the fair moon eclipsed itself safely behind a cocoon of clouds. The world gave the monster what it wanted most: darkness.
"Wait, wait, wait!" the head cried. The flesh where its neck should be rustled as if snakes twisted under the skin.
"What's wrong?" the body asked, the would-be sternum erupting outward and twisting up to the night's sky.
"I can't see a thing through these small holes." The head wiggled a small pinkie through the eye slits, trying to enlarge its vision.
"Don't worry, Widdles," the body assured her, "this is good a place as any."
In a flurry of white, reminiscent of the oncoming snow about to desolate the land, the creature ripped off its skin to reveal...a small woman perched upon a blonde's shoulders. The lower of the two carried a giant sack around her arm, this one bulging not with treats but the other option afforded to the night.
As the ex-head landed upon the road, she patted her hands and reached into the bag overflowing with rolls of toilet paper. "Are you sure this is smart?"
"It's a wozzat, traditional. Ceremonial," Sera grinned, the smile stretched as wide as if it'd been carved into her face. Weighing a roll in her hands, she fished out two more and began to juggle them. "Don't give the treats we're owed then...can't let them stuffed shirts get so full of themselves they forget. There's consequences, after all."
Dagna accepted the explanation, eyeing up a colored chalk mix she'd been working on. After twisting to take in the picturesque porches and front yards, the pristine eaves and egg-less roofs of the neighborhood street, she asked Sera, "Where do we even start?"
"That one," Sera jabbed to the right. "Missy Prissy Party-Pooper who won't give candy to no kid over twelve." Getting the weight of the toilet paper in her hand just right, she lobbed the first roll not into the skeletal tree but against a plaque proclaiming this to be the house of Madame de Fer.
The hanging sign creaked upon its hinges, the TP clattering to the soggy ground while both women froze. But no lights flickered on inside the house, no one knew they were on a mission for mischief. As the calendar rolled into All Soul's Day, inviting the spirits of the lost, the forgotten, and the trod-upon to once again walk the earth, Sera and Dagna gave them party decorations fit for an Empress.
With winds twisting the toilet paper ribbons into knots and chalk messages of Dagna's rather perky variety claiming the driveway, a solitary voice whispered through the chill of the oncoming winter.
"Happy Halloween."
YOU ARE READING
Dragon Age One Shots
FanfictionI've been adding lots of short stories to Tumblr recently and wanted a chance to share them here for anyone who doesn't have tumblr, or hates reading there. Here come all the Dragon Age one shots!
