Halloween 2021: Choose Your Spooky Outcome: Chapter 3
“Registration sounds like a blast, but you’re more likely to get through without incident by yourself.” Jim being gone helps things, but Pumpkin and Victoria have eccentricities of their own. “I’ll leave Jim to Pumpkin for now, he hasn’t had enough time to get too destroyed yet.”
Thad and Pumpkin both head off to their destinations, while Victoria accepts your accompaniment as if she expected nothing less. The two of you certainly seem to be on the same wavelength this evening, both thinking about days gone by. Ultimately, that was what tipped your hand. None of the others attended this school with you, only Victoria shares these memories. If there’s insight to be found, she’s the likeliest one to provide it.
The two of you stroll inside through a door that should have been locked, and probably was before Victoria’s hand clutched hold. Empty halls greet you, the grinning slits of hundreds of lockers smiling at you from the shadows. Every step echoes off the polished floor, whiffs of fresh wax bringing back a deluge of memories.
Class, halls, lunch. It’s all there, but so distant. It feels like another life, however you’re unsure if that’s because of your odd curse, or just a facet of growing older. After all, who you were in these halls is nothing compared to the person you’ve become. Even Victoria has transformed over the decade since graduation, unchanging as she can often seem.
“Did you know Thornglade High was founded by a fellow family of All Hallows Eve?” Her voice doesn’t echo with the same volume as your movements, one of the countless curiosities you’ve stopped paying much attention too over the years. “It’s why our mascot is the scarecrow, and reunions are held on this night in particular.”
“I always thought our mascot was kind of creepy.” Your eyes drift up to a painted mural along the walls, featuring a red-shirt wearing scarecrow whose eyes and smile were both too large. Even the shirt, meant to add a more modern flair to him, only seemed like it had been chosen to hide blood splatter across the chest.
“That one is actually due to a poorly managed student art contest in the eighties,” Victoria corrects. “I had to do some research on an issue senior year, and rooted out potential causes. As I recall, the cause for Mr. Scary’s creation was low student interest and a staff deeply enamored with… the journal called it ‘Hollywood snow’.”
“Imagine what they’d have approved with a dash of Jim’s stash.”
Both of you laugh, though yours is paired with a mild shudder at the actual thought. Mr. Scary is already bad enough.
Turning a corner, you find a trophy case staring back. Nothing in there has the potential to bear your name, nor would any of the club rosters, or distinguished achievements. High school was a place you only remember existing in, and barely at that. Back then, the idea of not trying made sense. Knowing you’d never measure up to Thad, or even come within spitting distance, what was the point in giving effort? All you had to do was get through, which you managed, leaving as little mark as possible in the process.
Victoria, on the other hand, grins at the sight of a familiar photo, one next to a trophy from the year her volleyball team took home the state championship. It’s odd, thinking back to the girl you had a crush on. She was something different, even back then, but nowhere near the Victoria you’ve spent eight Halloweens adventuring with.
Her green-painted nails tap on the glass, and for a moment you catch a flash of melancholy in the reflection of Victoria’s face. “So far we’ve come, in such a short time. This was before I’d taken hold of my power, come in to my true self. How about you, Merlin? Do you think you were cursed, even then?”
“Doesn’t seem that way. There’s nothing interesting popping up in my memories, deaths or otherwise. Unless whatever it was happened at the very end of high school, I think I was normal back then.”
Another expression darts across Victoria’s face, though this time its… worry? Uncertainty? Hard to say, especially with only a split-second to judge. Like the other, its gone in a blink, well buried by the time she turns away from the trophy case.
“That’s a relief. Part of me feared you might go all the way back there at some point, and I’d be easily embarrassed by my younger self, as would most people.”
“All the way back? What are you talking about?”
Taking your arm, Victoria begins to walk once more. Sound starts to echo from down the halls, chatter of people and a few yelps. Possibly old friends squealing with joy reuniting after years apart, or the reaction to a toilet coming to life and seeking well-deserved vengeance. At this distance, noise becomes hard to differentiate.
“That reaction confirms what I’d already suspected, I’m not sure you fully grasp the gravity of your situation.” Victoria’s tone has turned heavy, and she starts to look up at you, only to shift her head away at the last moment. “We need to discuss the matter, but its not a conversation I look forward too. While drawing a friend’s attention to the perils before him is no joy for me, I believe it’s necessary. That said, I won’t begrudge you a bit of fortification if you’d like. By this point Jim is sure to have spiked the punch bowl with a potent concoction, if not the snack table as a whole. You didn’t see the ‘results’ of his earlier culinary experiments.”
A drink doesn’t sound bad, you certainly weren’t expecting things to get serious so fast. Maybe you should check out those sounds from up the hall as well, that sure seems like a convenient distraction to put whatever this is off. Or, you could power through and see what terrifying insights Victoria has to offer. But she’s waiting for a reply, so time to pick which it will be.