6. Chapter 6
Catherine Van Tassel
The world around me goes pitch black and the sharp, raw scent of freshly cut pumpkin floods my nose. Luckily he just missed squishing my glasses into my face with his weird costume insistence.
The interior of the gourd is surprisingly warm, and yet I freeze in place, my breath hitching in apprehension as I realize that I'm standing in the middle of a dark forest wearing a literal pumpkin on my head.
This is too nuts! And I’m over it.
I swear to God, if I ever make it out of this place, I'm never leaving home on Halloween again. This has been more than enough of an experience for me.
My thoughts skid to a halt, and I suck in a shallow breath when, through the new, narrow, crudely carved eye holes, I watch in silent horror as the parade gets closer.
“Don’t move.” Victor’s husky voice sounds really close but strangely warped through the pumpkin. “And try not to make a sound.”
I watch as his leather boots shift in the leaves as he comes to stand in front of me, hiding me from view with his body. Then a pale, man made light washes over the ground and the shuffling of leaves grows to a harsh whisper in my ears as the ghouls make their way to us.
I press my hands over my mouth inside the tight space of the pumpkin, a cold sweat lining my shoulders under my shirt as I'm terrified that even the smallest sounds of my breath will give me away.
Through the small eye holes, I gaze at the parade of what look like people, but sickly pale skin, sunken eyes, and the strong odor of rot wafting through the air make my stomach clench.
One of the creatures stops and its shoe-covered feet slide next to Victor’s boots.
“Evening, Victor!” a raspy but cheerful voice calls out and echoes in the quiet dark.
I blink in shock behind my costume at the fact that we’re not being attacked at all.
“Happy Halloween, Tom,” Victor replies, the inflection in his tone completely casual. “Sorry about Brom’s antics, you know how he gets this time of year.”
“Yeah, we saw the fire and just wanted to invite you into the village. Everyone’s come out in celebration of Frank Stein’s mating and there’s supposed to be apple bobbing and all the witches are putting on a show,” the ghoul says.
“That sounds like quite a bit of fun, but don't let us keep you from the festivities. We’ll need to wrangle in Brom,” Victor says smoothly.
“Right you are then, I suppose this means you won't be joining us later tonight like usual, then?” the ghoul continues, darting his attention between us.
“No, tonight I’ll be a bit busy,” Victor replies.
The ghoul turns around, his gait odd and unnatural as he drifts back down the slope, followed by a procession of others like him murmuring to themselves as they head toward the village. They turn and wave to us, shouting odd holiday greetings to Victor as they go.
The moment the lights of the parade fade from view, I yank the pumpkin from my shoulders, skewing my glasses on my face.
I grab them in my hand and suck in a greedy breath of cool night air.
My fingers tremble as I glare up at Victor’s carved face and point up at him.
“You asshole,” I hiss. “They were friendly and you made me think I was somehow about to be torn to shreds by some kind of supernatural undead zombie, and then you're just standing there having a casual chitchat.”
“I told you to trust me,” Victor says, amusement clear in the tone of his voice as he holds out the conjured pumpkin mask he made me.
“If they'd known you were human, it wouldn't have been a very friendly chat, I assure you.
On Halloween night costumes become literal camouflage for the living.
The supernatural can't recognize a human underneath a proper disguise, and if I hadn't put the mask on you, you'd have caused a riot.”
I open my mouth to argue with him but logic wins out and a long defeated sigh escapes my lips as I methodically move to clean one glass lens and then the other before shoving them back on my face. “Fine. Fine, but next time a warning would be really great,” I snap.
I glance around the quiet woods and the adrenaline that's been coursing through my body finally slows to a low simmer, allowing reality to sink in full force.
“Speaking of riots, it looks like your horse bolted which means we’re stranded and on foot now.”
Victor tilts his pumpkin shaped noggin, his attention on the fields that are still smoking from Brom’s quick getaway from earlier. “Yeah, Brom is probably back at the lodge by now, aggressively attacking his oat bag since I left it out. It looks like our short ride just became a hike.”
“Fantastic,” I deadpan before lifting a hand to cover my yawn. I’m getting tired.
“I bet that does feel fantastic, I miss being able to do that,” Victor says.
I swipe at the moisture in the corner of my eyes from yawning so hard and stare up into his flickering, orange face. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m out way past my bedtime, I think.”
He glances at me and then turns his pumpkin shaped head back toward the village where the ghouls went. “How do you feel about putting on your costume for just a bit longer?” he asks, holding my pumpkin helmet out to me. “We could go to the village and find a cup of coffee.”
Hope bubbles up within me and my lips curve a bit as the thought of coffee breaks through my fatigue. “Coffee? In the ghoul village? Do they actually have anything that isn't… room temperature?”
The triangular corners of Victor’s eyes curve as he smirks. “Ghouls do have more of a protein diet, it's true, but they cater to all kinds and enjoy their coffee, too. Come on, let's find you some caffeine before you fall asleep on me.”
I take my glasses off and hand them to him before putting the pumpkin back over my head.
“I’ll hang onto these for you and keep them safe,” he says, pocketing my glasses, and I don't argue as my skirt pockets are still full of sugar cubes.
As we leave the tree line and head down the weaving path that turns to cobblestone streets, I’m pleasantly surprised by the charm of the small village square.
Excitement brims beneath my skin at the sight of the well built houses lining the winding lanes, and gray shingled roofs are dusted with autumn colored leaves.
Light spills from inside, the tidy windows of small shops, and lanterns shaped like laughing skulls hang from little iron brackets, illuminating the sidewalks below.
It looks like a Gilmore Girls paranormal spin-off, and as we make our way down what must be the main street we reach a small brick building with a hand-painted sign depicting a steaming cauldron.
Victor presses a hand to the small of my back and bends to open the door for me in one smooth move.
As I step across the threshold the ambience shifts from cozy to gothic.
Oh my God, it's a gothic themed coffeeshop.
Heavy black curtains with large gold tassels drape over the windows, blocking the soft light from the streets, and candelabras of all shapes and sizes weep with melted wax, making the air thick and stifling.
The soothing, familiar scent of roasted coffee beans seems to come from everywhere, and while the walls are papered in a deep red that lends the place an eerie atmosphere, it otherwise seems unexpectedly mundane.
At the table next to us, the ghouls are dressed in clothing so casual that if I hadn't been told earlier they were ghouls, I’d think they were just malnourished people who need to get a little more time in the sun. And it seems the pair are in an intense debate.
“I’m telling you, if you don't prune your hedgerow before the first frost, you’ll get root rot,” one ghoul murmurs, swirling a spoon into his mug.
“Gods, you sound like Nancy on one of her tirades.Why don't you stop worrying about my lawn and worry about that nightshade I've been seeing creeping up your back gate?”
I glance around the room through my pumpkin eye holes, letting the sound of the ghoul’ idle chatter fade away.
Victor reaches across the dark wood table between us and his gloved hand wraps securely around mine.
Even through the leather, his grip is warm and steady, and I realize his touch soothes me and he helps keep the fatigue weighing my body at bay.
“You’re having quite the adventure tonight, aren't you?” His voice is a low purr of gravel and the orange glow of his pumpkin eyes softens and cast a warm light across my fingers in his. “What do you think of the village so far?”
“I’m not going to lie, it's a bit surprising how kind of normal everyone is,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper.
He shrugs. “I think ghouls, overall, get a bad reputation, especially the ones who find their way here.”
“And what did Tom mean earlier about you meeting him later, like usual? What would you normally be doing if I weren't here?” I ask.
“Well, normally Brom and I roam around for most of the night. Usually before midnight he gets tired of my haranguing him and wants his fill of oats. After that, Tom invites me over for rounds of video games with some of his friends. We usually play Rainbow Six Siege to pass the time and he’s managed to keep me company for a few years now, catching up on recent events,” he explains.
I blink, unsure of how to respond at the thought of the headless horseman spending his time on All Hallows Eve playing video games instead of harassing unsuspecting humans like the storybooks say.
I get out of having to respond at all when an extremely pale faced barista slides a steaming mug toward me.
A quick sniff confirms it’s a rich, dark espresso as steam rises from the liquid.
Victor gives the barista an appreciative nod and she turns to amble back toward the counter at the front of the coffee shop.
I stare down at the mug, realizing one very major flaw in my plan: the heavy hollowed-out pumpkin on my head leaves me with too small a mouth slit to tilt the mug against my lips.
Victor catches me staring helplessly at the cup of ambrosia and the orangey glow of his eyes flares with amusement. He scans the nearby tables before getting to his feet.
“Here you go,” he says seconds later as he slides a metal straw into my hand and moves to sit back down across from me.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I whisper and carefully guide the metal straw through the crooked mouth of the pumpkin until it dips into the coffee. I take one long, grateful sip, and the rich, decadent coffee hits my system like a bolt of lightning and cuts through the fog of exhaustion. Man, that’s good.
“Oh, thank you, God,” I sigh, the steam of my breath warming the inside of my pumpkin helmet. “That is actual heaven.”
Victor just watches me and leans forward to rest his forearms on the table.
“So, I’ve been thinking, there's a corn field just past the edge of the village, and if we cut across it, we can use it as a shortcut to head back to the hunting lodge to grab Brom. It'll save us some time.”
I look down at my coffee and grin as a thrill of nerves coasts through my stomach, but seeing him sitting here so calmly, looking commanding but equally ridiculous in his pumpkin head, settles me.
He’s really not kidding about the adventure tonight.
“Sightseeing through a cornfield, a horse ride, and grave robbery all on Halloween,” I say as a smirk plays on my lips through my pumpkin as I take another sip of coffee through my straw.
“Truly, tonight is an adventure I'm unlikely to forget anytime soon. So, okay. I’m all in. Let's do this.”