Halloween 2022: Choose Your Spooky Outcome: Chapter 9
From the instant your awareness returns, you’re running. Pumpkin will be alright, Pseudo-Sheryl’s appearance is the most challenging thing about her. Take it away and she’s just a strong, tough opponent; the sort Pumpkin can easily handle.
Living through a shot to the chest is another matter. The flickers of memory still haunt your mind as usual, only this time, they’re a boon. With flashes of the death crackling over your vision, it’s easy to find the right target.
As with Sheryl, you go for a diving tackle. And just as he did with the vase, Doctor Willowbrook turns to the side, allowing you to touch nothing but a handful of his long coat. “How simplistic. Still I suppose what it lacks in capability is up made for in loyalty. Imagine, charging in expecting to influence our battle.”
Purple nails flash in the external lights of the nigh-endless apartment buildings, leaving a gash across Doctor Willowbrook’s silken white shirt. “What would you understand of loyalty? When grandmother passed, you cast out her trusted vassals and allies, simply because they would not swear to follow you mere minutes after her death. Now the Willowbrook position weakens and our strength rots thanks to the tide of replaceable fodder filling our ranks.”
Swiftly ducking back, Doctor Willowbrook avoids the next swing of those nails. “That is business which does not concern you, the one who was so happy to flee to the safety of her mother’s human world. She who turned away from the harsh realities of what it requires to carry the name Willowbrook.”
“I guess by ‘harsh realities’ you mean constantly getting treated like shit because my mother was mortal.” Rather than rush forward again, Victoria pauses, truly looking her father in the eyes. “You’re right, I didn’t want to be part of this, any of it. But I’m not going to let some pathetic spoiled brat ruin everything my grandmother built just because he’s realized he’ll never be good enough to get out of his mommy’s shadow.”
“Now that was uncalled for.” Doctor Willowbrook’s hand dives into the pocket of his long coat and emerges… empty. His face knots in confusion, noticing for the first time the sound of metal hitting concrete.
There’s one last bullet in the magazine that you push out, watching it fall to the ground where it can never be used against Victoria. Holding up the now empty magazine, you toss it over to Doctor Willowbrook. “You were really going to shoot your own daughter for telling it like it is? Looks like we know who can’t handle those ‘harsh realities’ after all.”
He reacts instantly, whirling into attack, but it isn’t you that Doctor Willowbrook goes after. The long coat swirls as he snaps those white gloves toward Victoria. Echoing his own tactic, she shifts her head slightly, allowing the punches to sail past. Meanwhile, her own fingers keep aiming for his neck, but Doctor Willowbrook is careful to keep such sharp edges away from his jugular.
Eventually, there’s a shift in the fight. Good as Victoria might be, she isn’t perfect, and when a well-timed jab catches her chin she goes tumbling to the ground. Before she can move, Doctor Willowbrook has pounced, leaping atop her. His knees pin her biceps, keeping those deadly nails from reaching higher points on his body. From a different pocket, he produces a gleaming silver knife, raising it overhead. “Be honest with your final moments, where falsehoods matter little. Don’t you regret struggling to change your fate? In the end, wouldn’t it have been better if you’d just accepted your role?”
“No fucking way,” Victoria spits back. “Mimi taught me the importance of fighting against anything that tries to control us, fate included. She showed me the value of the Willowbrook name that you’re tarnishing. And she taught me about flowers, not just the thorns either. I also learned the importance of stems.”
In a flash, her nails have carved through Doctor Willowbrook’s dark slacks. Blood fountains out from the wounds in both legs, those nails of Victoria’s are not messing around. “That’s a long gash down both femoral arteries. If you have any final glib remarks to impart, I’d say them fast. Personally, I appreciate the test run. It should be a big help when I face the real thing.”
Grunting in pain, Doctor Willowbrook drops the knife, rears back his head, and unleashes a horrendous howl. The sound halts Pumpkin and Pseudo-Sheryl’s fight, which Pumpkin has taken the upper hand in. It ripples out across everything, and worse, gets a similar sound in response. From every alley and crevice, misshapen forms are staggering forward. Ghouls, skeletons, movie monsters, almost every manner of enemy you’ve faced in your Halloween adventures. All of them converging on you at once.
“Hear me now, sworn vassal, and know the words I speak are a command,” Victoria’s words yank your attention to her, the feeling borderline physical. “Run, Merlin. Run and do all you can to survive.” No sooner has she spoken than your legs are pumping. There’s just enough control to look back and see Victoria heading over to help Pumpkin, then the charging swarm cuts off your line of sight.
The compulsion drives you forward, even as you can hear the sounds of pursuit on your heels. There’s another sound too, some strange high-pitched whine mixed with what sounds like a small waterfall. Your mind conjures all sorts of images of what that terror might be. But with Victoria’s command to run in full-effect, what can you do but obey?
Besides use the key, that is. It’s still there, poking out of your pocket like an oddly shaped cell-phone. The key that started all this, and perhaps could end it as well? The key you never even wanted, really, it was Pumpkin pushing it all along. Perhaps casting it aside, making the choice to abandon this whole endeavor, will take you home?
Unless it needs to be harder than that, of course. Pumpkin stabbed you to get here, would it be so shocking if you needed to stab yourself to get back? It certainly doesn’t seem like a very fun idea, but the noise of that new terror is steadily drawing closer. And who knows, maybe leaving will bring back your friends as well, somehow.
Ditch the key, stab yourself, or wait for the new terror to catch up. Looks like those are your only options on the run, so what’s it going to be?