Work Text:
“Yeah, and Aunt Marie said she wasn’t coming down for another few days. She was supposed to be here yesterday, but she didn’t want to be here when I had all the neighborhood kids comin’ around.”
“Who doesn’t like handing out candy to children!?” another woman yells from down the hall.
“A woman who’s lived alone for thirty years, that’s who.” A soft knock on the door interrupts the woman’s spiel. She replaces her frown with a smile as she nabs the heavy bowl of candy off the console in the hallway. “Speak of the little devils! I bet that’s our first round of kids now!”
Swinging the door open, the woman gasps upon seeing her visitors. “Aren’t you two cute! Are you guys ghosts?”
Two kids of the same height stand on her front porch, their short bodies covered with white bedsheets. Breaking up the monotony of clean white are small cutouts for their eyes which are lit up with an eerie, aquamarine glow under the porchlight. The one on the left happily nods at her question.
“You two are the most adorable ghosts I’ve ever seen! Oh, I mean, you guys are rather spooky! I might not be able to sleep tonight!”
“Good.” A raspy voice mumbles from beneath the sheet; the woman can’t tell which ghost had spoken. Either way, she gestures with her bowl of candy. In response, they simultaneously hold up black cauldrons.
“For being such cuties, I’ll let ya pick what ya want.” The younger woman peeks over her shoulder, a sparkle of happiness flashing across her face. One of them digs his hand into the bowl and fetches a hefty fistful of chocolates and drops some of his catch into the other’s cauldron, while said other is still as a statue, the only movement being the chilly breeze blowing his bedsheet.
The younger woman leans over. “I hope you’re dressed in layers underneath those sheets! It’s cold out, boys.”
Having grabbed their prizes, they turn away from the motherly concern without a word and start hopping down the porch steps. The women glance at each other but think nothing of it.
“Have fun, boys!” they call after them. One of the ghosts looks back and waves at them from under his cloth, the action sending the women into a cooing frenzy.
The twins traverse the sidewalk decorated with crunchy fiery-hued leaves, passing by other kids dressed as vampires and superheroes. A few maintain a curious gaze at the duo and some guardians whisper their compliments about the oh-so-cute pair.
Pumpkins with candles in their eye sockets greet them as they head to the next house. An animatronic witch folds at the waist and cackles when they walk by, her plastic body unable to feel remorse at failing to scare the boys. A miniature sarcophagus on the opposite of the path opens up to reveal a mummy with claws, its pupils blinking red with its hunger for the blood of kiddies.
The ghosts are unfortunately undeterred.
What surprises them, though, is the note on the front door telling trick-or-treaters to grab their handfuls out of the bowl in the nearby rocking chair. The twins silently converse with a flick of their heads. Regardless of the note, they knock. A frustrated groan is heard behind the glass panes of the window. And yet, the duo is relentless in their endeavors and knocks harder.
After a moment, the front door is whisked open by a scowling teen, his anger wiped away by a loud, childish “BOO!” shouted from the sentient sheets.
The troublemakers chuckle at the teen’s fearful jerk. “Okay, cool, you had your fun,” the teenager attempts to save face, scratching at his nose to hide the slight blush. “Get your candy and go.”
“May I use your restroom?” a ghost pipes up. His pretty blue puppy eyes have the teen sighing and widening the door for him.
“You get a minute—” the ghosts barrel through right as he spits out that the bathroom is down the hall. He groans with the rumble of teenage angst, watching one of them disappear into the hallway. The ghost’s other half is behind him, he realizes with minute fear and staring right at him.
The intense standoff is interrupted by the ghost’s oddly terrifying question. “Are you home alone?”
“What’s it to you?” he bites back, crossing his arms.
“It sounds like you are,” the boy whispers, “Isn’t that scary? Being home alone on Halloween?”
Cue another teenage scoff. “No! Why would it be? The boogeyman and all that other shit ain’t real, dude. Your mommy and daddy lied to you.”
“The boogeyman isn’t who you should be afraid of. In fact, the worst type of thing that goes bump in the night may be something more human, and innocuous.”
“Uh, okay.” The teen shrugs, albeit using it to shrug off the pinprick on his nape. Goosebumps travel over his skin as the ghost boy continues to stare him down. A sharp quip about his parents not teaching him manners is cut short by the sight of the other ghost standing at the end of the foyer. The holes for the boy’s eyes are void of emotion and his baby blues. “Hey, you’re done, right?”
The boy doesn’t reply.
“If you are, then go. You got other houses to go to, plenty of other people for you to freak out.” He swivels to the other boy, who hasn’t moved an inch. Suddenly, the aura of warmth and purity has been sapped from the bedsheet. The teen has been marked as the prey of the petite intruders, the beginning of his demise signaled by their sheets slowly rising and the glint of silver being unsheathed from the boys’ front pockets.
A sheet is tossed onto the hardwood and footsteps blaze toward their victim, knife poised to enter the teenager’s stomach. The blood-curdling screams and high-pitched giggles are muffled by the animatronic witch’s cackles and the mummy’s screeching.
Humming a pleasant tune, the boys pour an unhealthy amount of candy into their cauldrons, the shiny wrappers conveniently hiding the carnage inside. Setting the almost empty bowl back onto the rocking chair, they clasp hands and skip down the steps.
“We got a lot of goodies already, Vergil!”
“That we have.” Vergil allows his cauldron to swing, the clinking of its contents proving Dante’s sentence right. “The night is young with many more wonderful people to visit, Dante— let’s make haste.”
Dante squeezes his twin’s hand, their fingers slick with the ichor of an innocent. The tune is resumed, their synced humming the background music to their journey on 13th street.
“Look at you two!” a man five houses down fawns, “You’re like, the ghosts of dead Victorian children or something, right? Spooky!” he peeps their filthy lace-up boots. “Honey, come here, come check out their costumes!”
Dante nods, beaming brightly under his sheet.
A black robe and white mask pop out from the foyer, his gruff voice contrasting his curious tone. “Would ya look at that? I haven’t seen bedsheet ghosts in years. I’m diggin’ the touch of kool-aid, too.”
“Right? These boys got it down. Sometimes, the simpler the costume, the scarier it can be.” they chuckle in unison, characteristic of a married couple. “Alright, I won’t hold you guys up.”
Golden-wrapped candies and a set of glittery stickers are dropped into their cauldrons. “Thank you, sirs,” the boys recite, their twin behavior shooting arrows into the couple’s hearts. This time, the damage incurred is superficial, a mere prick that allows saccharine words to flow out of the men’s mouths instead of crimson liquid.
The same cannot be said for their next stop.
She’s all alone in a big empty house, unsuspecting of the boogeymen lurking on her porch. She’s too clumsy, bumping into furniture and knocking over a vase as she scrambles away from the little devils chasing her. Oh, she tried, she really did.
The glasses thrown halts them, but not for long enough. If only she knew that scratches and scrapes can’t stop the inhuman lust for destruction.
The doorbell rings incessantly, the beeps matching the rhythm of the knives plunging into her chest. Blood coats the kitchen flooring and stains the remains of shattered glasses. It splatters on the walls and speckles the twins’ cheeks. They clean off their blades with a lick, the taste of iron just as delightful as the rich ganache inside of a truffle.
Tiny, red footprints then track through the hall, leading to the couch littered from the overturned bowl of candy, and out the front door. By the time they reach the sidewalk, the blood is diluted and fades to indiscernible drops. A girl compliments their costume, loving the stains littering the tattered edges of their white sheets.
They pick up the tune where they last left it. Onto the next one.
“Oh my god, Vergil! Where did you get that one?!” Dante lunges for the chocolate-covered cherry in his twin’s hand, but his body flops on the grass instead.
Vergil casually unwraps the candy and aims his trash at Dante’s head. “While you were busy sawing that woman’s head off, I found her expensive stash. It was right there in the cupboard.”
Dante pouts, though it doesn’t last long when Vergil gives in with an eye roll and indulges him with the last one. Content, he devours the chocolate-covered cherry and doesn’t mind the gush of sticky cream down his chin— he already has blood splashed onto his face and drying in his hairline, so who cares!
“D’you wan’ the sour stuff?” Dante asks through a mouthful of gooey fruit. Vergil shakes his head and pushes the colorful bags of sour candies toward his brother.
Of course, he’s not giving it away for free. “Gimme your peanut butter cups.”
Dante rummages through his little cauldron, throwing out the peanut butter cups and further dirtying his hands with blood. He grins when he finds the leftovers from one of their house visits at the bottom: an eyeball with a green iris.
Vergil raises an eyebrow as Dante dangles it by its optic nerve. “Ya want this one too?”
“Isn’t that your favorite part?”
Dante shrugs. “I don’t mind sharing. You let me have some of the liver of that one kid. So, here.”
As Vergil cradles the delicate organ in preparation for savoring it, the pad of a finger presses his forehead. “Dante—“
The set of glittery stickers in Dante’s lap shines under the overhead lights of the park. Vergil spots the missing rainbow smiley three rows down from the top. He’s perplexed at first, his frown morphing into a smile.
“Aaaaand, I‘ll take this one!” Dante peels a rainbow star off the sheet and smacks it onto his forehead.
“You look silly,” Vergil says with a hint of humor.
“Yeah, so do you.”
In the relative darkness of nature, the two kids stained head to toe in blood guffaw and snort, playing with stickers and feasting on piles of candy— a lovely end to Halloween.