Mitchell was driving in silence.
Cam rode in the passenger seat, occasionally glancing at Willa’s costu like a proud casting director.
In the back seat, Andrew and Willa sat together, only separated by Lily’s booster seat.
He had his Michael Myers mask resting on his lap; she was adjusting the collar of her costu while checking her reflection in the window.
"Just so you know," said Andrew, turning slightly toward her, "Claire does this every year. It’s like... her Super Bowl. Each Halloween she picks a new the for the house, decorates it for days, and assigns roles to everyone."
"Roles?" asked Willa, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Sotis you’re a trapped spirit. Or a hidden monster. Or a screaming victim in the closet. Depends on the year. It’s like a play... but with candy and psychological trauma for kids," Andrew explained.
Willa looked at him, half amused, half confused, "I didn’t know you guys took it this seriously."
"Claire does. The whole neighborhood knows. For the kids, it’s like a rite of passage: if you make it through the Dunphy House of Horrors, you get to claim your candy and your honor."
"Mmm, now I get where the psycho pranks between you and your aunt co from," murmured Willa, chuckling under her breath.
"The good part," Andrew added, looking out the window, "is that Claire doesn’t know you’re coming... so you won’t have a set role. You’ll probably end up improvising sothing during the walkthrough."
"Perfect," said Willa, crossing her arms. "An actress with no script. What could go wrong?"
"Everything," Cam replied, turning around from the front seat, "But if anyone can pull it off with style, it’s you, sweetheart."
Mitchell, from the driver’s seat, sighed as he turned a corner, "I just want no kid to end up crying. Is that too much to ask?"
Andrew leaned forward with a faint smile, like soone familiar with that defeated tone from his dad.
"Don’t be a buzzkill. Besides, you’re not even wearing a costu this year, so you’re benched. And in past years it wasn’t that bad... yeah, we scared them, but we knew when to stop. We have rules, we’re not uncivilized maniacs."
Then, pausing, he recited the rules:
"No traumatizing kids under ten. No touching. No screaming within three feet. No scaring overprotective parents," he finished, like quoting an already established guideline.
Mitchell turned his head for a second, incredulous. "You seriously have a code?"
"Of course, didn’t you know after all this ti?" said Cam. "Claire wrote it years ago. I think she even laminated it."
Mitchell grimaced slightly from the driver’s seat. He couldn’t believe his sister had created a scare regulation code... though, as a lawyer, he had to admit having rules wasn’t a bad idea.
Willa, who until that mont had been looking out the window, turned to Andrew with an expression that landed sowhere between amused and dangerous. Her clown makeup distorted any real emotion.
"What do you say we take it a little further this year, Myers?" she asked, lowering her voice toward Andrew.
Andrew tilted his head toward her, intrigued, "Go on."
Willa stared without blinking, "You know... scare them a bit more. I feed off the fear of children."
’Whoa, she’s already getting into character,’ Andrew thought, amused.
"I’m in. And like I said before, I knew you had a bit of sadism in you," Andrew replied with a faint smile.
Willa raised an eyebrow, twirling the string of her red balloon, "I don’t get many chances to use my theatrical skills to terrify children. It’s refreshing. Liberating, even. A sort of artistic catharsis."
"Artistic catharsis... I like how that sounds!" said Cam, tempted to join in on the scares this year.
Mitchell simply shook his head in silence. He was convinced that this Halloween, more than candy... would bring lawsuits.
They arrived at the Dunphy house. There were still no kids around. Just a few minutes left before the official walkthrough began.
Andrew and the others got out of the car and headed to the front door.
Andrew wore a blue jumpsuit, mask in hand, and a fake knife in the other. Willa walked calmly, holding her red balloon with theatrical elegance.
"Rember," Andrew said, slightly turning his head toward her, "Claire’s prank could happen at any ti. Even while the haunted house is live. It’s unlikely... but I don’t trust that woman. So we have to stay together the whole ti, okay?"
"Of course," Willa replied with a smile that wasn’t exactly reassuring. "I’ll be your shadow."
What was curious was that a boy would ask her sothing like that.
And even more curious: he had no romantic intentions. He wasn’t saying it to flirt, protect her, or try to seduce her.
It was pure strategy. And in its own way, Willa found that fascinating.
They rang the doorbell, and it swung open abruptly, Phil stood there wearing a white lab coat splattered with red paint, lab goggles, and a cheerful surgeon’s grin that didn’t inspire much trust.
"Welco to the Dunphy Horror Clinic!" he greeted them with his usual enthusiasm. "The asylum is ready to receive new souls... I an, patients!"
"Hey, Phil, already practicing, huh?" said Andrew, greeting his uncle with a smile.
They stepped inside.
The interior was decorated floor to ceiling: flickering lights, furniture draped in sheets, crooked paintings, and a recording of distant screams playing from one corner.
In the living room stood Claire, in a spotless dical coat, hair neatly tied back, round glasses, and black surgical gloves.
Seeing her, Andrew instantly recognized that classic expression of hers: a quick visual scan, silent judgnt, and an imdiate decision.
Her eyes first landed on Cam, who was wearing nothing but a plain black cape.
Nothing else.
Claire squinted slightly in disapproval, but she knew arguing with Cam about costus was pointless. As far as she knew, Cam had so childhood trauma about Halloween he never fully explained, which was why he didn’t like dressing up elaborately or doing much on the day.
Then her gaze moved to Mitchell, who hadn’t even tried to dress up. No hat, no mask, no makeup. Just... regular clothes.
Claire pursed her lips, "Where’s your costu?" she asked, staring at her brother.
"Oh, no. I’m not dressing up this year. I was in costu all day. It was awful," Mitchell replied.
"That’s nothing compared to when I—" Cam began, but Mitch quickly cut him off.
"Not every Halloween has to be about you."
Willa raised an eyebrow and looked at Andrew.
"It’s a childhood trauma my dad has, that’s why he’s apathetic about Halloween..." Andrew whispered to Willa.
Claire shook her head at Cam and Mitch’s behavior, and then her gaze landed on Willa.
Claire blinked. Twice, "Oh..." was all she said.
Phil, who had just now taken a good look at her, exclaid, "Wow! Did a special effects studio do that?"
Willa gave a faint smile, just enough to seem polite and dangerous at the sa ti.
Claire, who was slow to complint but never ignored quality, nodded with a touch of solemnity.
"The costu is perfect. Better than 80% of the cast in previous years."
They all knew Willa, not just as Andrew’s friend, but also a close friend of Haley.
"Thanks," said Willa modestly.
From the kitchen, Luke and Manny approached.
Manny, dressed as Frankenstein, walked stiffly with crooked bolts on his neck.
Luke, in a white lab coat, oversized lab goggles, and hair spiked with gel, shouted, "I gave him life! But I think I forgot to teach him how to use the bathroom!"
Manny, never breaking character, spoke in a deep voice with tragic solemnity, "I don’t need a bathroom. Only attention, recognition... and love."
There was a pause. Willa looked at him for a second... and nodded.
"Not bad," she said, genuinely impressed. "You know the character."
Manny looked at her like he’d just seen a ghost reciting Byron. For a mont, he forgot he had bolts in his neck. He stood a little straighter.
"The monster was misunderstood," Manny added softly. "His tragedy was to exist without having asked for it."
Luke, anwhile, was lost in his own world, hamming up his performance, "I’m an evil genius with coordination issues!"
"Victor Frankenstein wasn’t like that. In the original novel, he’s not a madman. He’s an idealistic young scientist playing God out of desperation, not malice. Movies portray him as crazy, but he’s tragic—not insane," Willa said.
Manny, completely captivated, whispered, "Finally... soone gets it."
Luke, still clueless, paused for a second and focused on Willa’s painted face.
The red glow of her balloon flickered over her cheekbones. Her lined eyes made her look like a specter.
Luke swallowed hard but gathered the courage not to back down.
"I’m a mad scientist, not so boring guy no one will rember!"
Willa gave a closed-lip smile. She didn’t say anything. Just kept her gaze fixed on Luke for two more seconds.
"Do you want to float, Luke?" Willa asked, taking a step toward him.
Luke stepped back halfway, raising his hands as if trying to summon an invisible protective shield.
"D-don’t co closer! I have a monster that protects !"
Willa let out a soft chuckle, "I’m kidding. Relax. I’m on your team."
Luke exhaled in relief, "Oh. Okay. Just acting. Ha. Really well done. For a mont I thought—"
A voice suddenly ca from behind him, unexpected.
"Nice job, Luke. That dialogue... very well morized."
Luke slowly turned his head.
And there he was.
At eye level. Leaning forward, perfectly still.
With the white, expressionless mask aligned precisely with his face: Michael Myers.
Luke let out a short scream and, purely on reflex, punched the masked killer in the chest.
"AAH! Don’t kill , Uncle Mike!"
Michael Myers straightened up with a slow, fluid motion... and then took off the mask.
It was Andrew.
There was a faint smile on his lips, barely visible, like this had just been another rehearsal.
"It’s , Luke. Relax," he said simply.
Luke, breathing hard, stared at him wide-eyed. "How long have you been there?"
"I have the power of teleportation," Andrew replied with a slight smile.
A few feet away, Mitchell, who had been watching everything narrowed his eyes.
’Great... If Willa and Andrew just improvised that and managed to scare Luke, who’s tougher than 80% of the kids in this neighborhood after a decade of Claire and Andrew’s pranks, then the kids coming tonight are screwed,’ he thought.
Just then, Claire stepped toward the stairs and shouted, "Haley! Alex! Co down now! We need to get organized before the first kids arrive!"
After that, she rejoined the others. Her eyes landed on Andrew, who stood with his arms crossed and a faint smile on his face.
That typical smile he wore every year when he was planning a prank.
A smile Claire knew better than anyone.
"So you’re planning to scare again this year?" Claire asked in a defiant tone, crossing her arms just like he did.
"Scare you? ? Never," said Andrew with total innocence, tilting his head slightly, "And what about you? Got sothing planned?" he asked.
Claire narrowed her eyes like a war general assessing a threat.
"Of course I didn’t plan anything against you this year. As you can see, the haunted house took a lot of ti, it’s more complex than previous years," she replied.
"Hmm, doubtful," said Andrew, not believing a single word.
Usually, the pranks between Claire and Andrew played out inside the Dunphy house.
That might seem like a disadvantage for him, but it wasn’t. He spent so much ti there, he knew every corner. He had ti to plan his tricks, sotis even with help from Haley, Alex, and others.
However, this year... he didn’t need preparation.
This year, his prank was a heart attack, and for that, he needed Claire to go first.
Claire turned her gaze toward Willa, who stood with her red balloon and demonic makeup intact, like a statue pulled from a nightmare.
"And her?" Claire asked. "Is she part of your plan?"
Andrew gently shook his head.
"No. Her family doesn’t celebrate Halloween. She was bored, got interested in the haunted house, liked the costu, and she enjoys acting. So I invited her," Andrew replied with a shrug.
Claire kept her eyes on Willa for a few seconds longer.
She knew the girl.
Friend of Andrew. Also close to Haley. A professional actress, strong character, sharp sense of humor.
Could she be part of a prank? Sure.
But Claire wasn’t paranoid. Well... not too much.
She didn’t think Andrew would leave the prank in his friend’s hands, and she couldn’t quite imagine what role Willa could even play in a scare like that.
At that mont, Claire noticed sothing out of the corner of her eye, turned quickly, and shouted, "Luke! Stop grabbing candy! That’s for the kids who actually scream!"
Luke, hand caught in the bucket, replied, "I just got scared! I earned it!"
Right then, footsteps echoed down the stairs and the doorbell rang.
...
Just out of curiosity: Pippa or Willa?
-------------------------------------------------
You can read 15 Chapters in advance on my patreon.
Link: s/Nathe07
User Comments
0 comments from readers