All Hallow’s Eve couldn’t have asked for a better atmosphere. The full moon is high in the sky, with only small clouds passing over it here and there. The air is filled with a comfortable chill and an appropriate feeling of dread.
The only thing rivaling the moon’s brightness is the Tau Eta Epsilon House. Its front porch is covered in a fine mist, courtesy of the badly hidden dry ice boxes masquerading as tree stumps. The false gravestones aren’t funny, the fake names on them don’t even earn a single chuckle from those of us with taste. And the Jack-o-Lanterns? Despite their wealth the THE sorority is too cheap for real candles, the lanterns have electric ones in them.
If it wasn’t for me and Violet crashing the party it would lack the proper atmosphere. We’re wearing matching costumes, the Witch and her Undead Prince. I hide my face behind a crow skull mask with silver accents, painted on with miniature paints. My witch hat sports a fake black rose on itself. The same boots I used to intimidate Dick Butt adorn my feet. The whole outfit has a crow theme to it, especially the feather accents and the gloves that look like talons. All the magic I used to make the outfit has finished turning my hair purple.
Violet meanwhile has got the whole dashing lesbian vampire thing on lock. Her outfit looks Napoleonic in terms of era, her fangs are self grown, and the saber she has sheathed at her side is as sharp as her tongue. All she’s missing to look like a transitioning Alucard is the long hair.
If you look in the dictionary for the definition of overdressed, you can spot a picture of us there. The house is filled with inappropriate EDM and so many slutty costumes I’m certain all the girls wearing them will wake up with hangovers tomorrow. Alcohol helps warm you up, you know.
Arms locked, Violet and I walk into the party like we own the place. Everyone’s eyes turn to us, but the only hint of recognition in them is when they pass over Violet. Her notoriety precedes her.
One of the sports scholarship jocks approaches us, wobbling slightly. “Hey pretty lady,” he starts, and I roll my eyes, something he cannot see through the lenses of my mask “why don’t you ditch the fag and fuck a real man?”
I chuckle, the confidence the mask brings me turning it into a malicious one. “Oh you silly boy,” I grab hold of his chin and stare right into his eyes “it’s because I’m one as well. Yudych dou peechuh.” His eyes glaze over as I cast the spell. It’s a simple fuck off, but for whatever reason Velesic and other Slavic languages like to express it by telling people to go in a cunt. He walks away in a daze, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.
“Those were bold fucking words for someone who gave me head in the park.” Violet tsks, her voice sounding odd courtesy of the fangs she’s sporting.
“Is there somebody on campus you haven’t fucked?” I sigh, shaking my head as we approach our destination.
“The faculty. Plus not enough people here are experimenting with their sexuality.” Violet looks at the clock, then at the podium. “So we’re doing it here?”
I check the clock myself. We came in pretty late on purpose, it’s five minutes until Midnight. I look around to make sure all the sorority members responsible for Liz’s death are present. “Yup. Liz, under the podium, you need a dramatic entrance.” I feel two taps in quick succession on my shoulder, confirmation from our resident specter.
As midnight approaches, Violet helps me up on the podium.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, and Beings of Higher Power.” I begin, projecting my voice, all eyes turn towards me. “I have to thank the Tau Eta Epsilon Sorority for throwing such a marvelous party. A toast to their efforts.” Some take the opportunity to toast, while others look confused. “But of course, it’s missing something. We haven’t summoned any dead so far tonight, have we?”
The partygoers look intrigued, while the hosts look amused. All but one. Cindy’s visibly sweating. I smile, more to myself than to those present. “I shall now use the power of Halloween’s Midnight to summon forth a departed spirit!” I shout, posing dramatically. When I whisper Vuhpaal Kuruh the podium blazes for a moment, a magic circle burning into the wood. The audience is shocked.
The moment the clock strikes midnight, the first ring of the church bell sounding, I begin chanting. “Oh spirit, come forth, cross the veil and reveal thyself to all those present!”
My job is practically done at this point. A thin layer of frost covers the edges of windows. Icicles grow on the circle, and Liz rises from the middle of it. She’s truly gone to great lengths for the effects. Her lips are cracked, her hair is covered in frost while it floats. Water drips off of her which freezes the moment it touches the ground, and a fine mist flows from her. Her fingers and toes are blackened with frostbite. Up her arms climb icicles of various sizes, pointing in different directions.
She slowly turns to face the sorority girls, each movement accompanied by the ice on her cracking and reforming. Liz points at them, and opens her mouth to sigh, a cloud of steam escaping her lips. “You. Murdered. Me.”
The ice keeps growing on the windows, it spreads from them onto the walls, it covers up the light bulbs until they crack under the pressure.
I clear my throat. “I suggest all those not involved in the killing of Elizabeth Myler leave the premises.” Like yelling fire in a crowded theater, everyone begins running out the front doors, sorority girls included. But Liz stops them in their tracks, conjuring sharp icicles that would stab them if they tried moving.
“You know,” I take off my mask, smirking at the girls, “I experienced her murder first hand. What a cruel way to take somebody’s life.” I start walking up the stairs towards them. Liz moves alongside me, jumping from point to point, accompanied by the sound of ice breaking. “And for what? Because you found her cringe? Because she was desperate for community and wouldn’t take the hint?” The front door slams closed, only to be completely covered in a thick layer of ice, a layer as thick as the ones on the windows. The icicles trapping the girls melt away.
“I have the powers of a Revenant thanks to you.” Liz says, standing right in front of Annabelle, the president. “It doesn’t mean I have to, have to make you suffer. But I want to.”
The sorority girls book it, each running to their room. “Is this the part where you turn their rooms into personal hells?” I ask, and Liz smiles, returning to her normal appearance as the doors freeze over.
“Yeah, yeah, this is, uhm, this is the point.” She walks to the first door, and Violet and I follow her. “Cindy is afraid of, well, facing consequences for her actions. She’s stuck in a maze, with me around every corner, and every possible exit showing her losing everything.” Liz goes to the second door. “Beverly, on the other hand, is terrified of losing influence, of being no one. So she’s now in a nightmare, invisible to everyone around her, unable to touch them.”
We approach the final room, the door of this one lacking frost. “What’s Annabelle’s nightmare?”
Liz sighs, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. “Being like you.”
I walk into the room with purpose in my step. “Being like me, you say? In what way? Being a queer freak? Seeing your body betray you? Suffering in silence without anyone to turn to?” With each question I get closer and closer, and Annabelle backs away. The moment she bumps into the wall, I slam it, locking her in. “Is it because you know how people like me are treated? Are you afraid of being treated that way too?” I lift her chin up with one finger.
She flicks her chin away. Her eyes are filled with hatred. I toss my mask in hand. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Do you have ANY idea who you’re messing with?!” She yells out.
I smile. “Do you?” I hold my mask in front of her face. “I think you could use some humbling. Will this work for you, Liz?”
“M-more than enough.” The moment Liz replies, I force the mask on Annabelle’s face. Frost spreads from it, covering her head, holding the mask in place. She screams, desperately trying to force it off.
“Enjoy being me for an hour.” I can see her eyes glaze over underneath the mask, and she faints, falling onto me. I catch her only long enough to toss her on the bed, where I then sit down, taking a deep breath.
“You, you know I can’t make her experience your life in specific, right?” Liz floats around the room, Violet takes over the couch in the corner.
“Yeah, but I figure you can have her experience a couple random ones. Just to give her some empathy.” I lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Annabelle shivers, shakes, turns. It is obvious whatever she’s experiencing hurts.
But as I promised, within the hour the mask falls off, and Annabelle sits up, screaming and panting. I grab her chin, turn her to face me and look her straight in the eyes. “Now, well, now I’ll give you the same hex I gave your boyfriend, and after that you’ll confess. Understood?”
She nods, tears in her eyes. Her lips quiver and she mouths I’m sorry in rapid succession, lacking the energy to actually say it.
“Actions speak louder than words, so you better show us how sorry you are.” I hold her face and chant. The bell strikes 1 am. And I can hear Mariah Carey on the wind.
The only power stonger than a Witch and Revenant... Mariah Carey
yeeeee zxmcnbv