To celebrate Halloween, I thought I would post a Halloween short story that I wrote for Gage’s world. It was fun and I hope you get a chuckle from it!

Halloween in Low Town

By Gage Powell (Parentheticals by Jocelynn Drake)

Halloween in Low Town, or rather All Hallows Eve as most call it around here, can be a complicated deal.  (Certainly more than it is in my world.)  With every manner of creature and race wandering around in the open, it’s hard to find something to wear as a costume that won’t totally insult another person.  (Yeah, I could imagine the vampires are real sick of this holiday.)

So it’s easy to understand why Bronx and I weren’t exactly thrilled to find ourselves standing in a costume shop a week before All Hallows Eve, trying to find a costume with all the other rabid shoppers.  My friend Parker, an incubus, was throwing an All Hallows Eve party, and Parke had to make costumes a requirement.  What was adding to my turmoil was the fact that my sweet girlfriend was drop-dead gorgeous with her thick blond hair, massive green eyes, and flawless skin.  She made a habit of wearing provocative clothes while working at the tattoo parlor, but I didn’t worry because that was my domain.  I didn’t think Parker was going to let me threaten his guests with bodily harm if they looked at my girlfriend.

“Why are women’s costumes so freaking expensive when there’s so little material there?” Trixie demanded as she held up a costume that was supposed to be for a lady firefighter. (Only if that firefighter was also a stripper.)

“You don’t complain when you’re buying lingerie,” I said, smiling innocently up at her.

“The lingerie is at least made of nice material.  This feels like burlap.”

“You’re paying for what the material covers as well as the empty space,” Bronx offered.

“I don’t think I like the idea of my girlfriend showing that much empty space,” I grumbled, which only earned me a condescending kiss on the cheek.

“How about this?” She held up a skimpy outfit that was supposed to be for a Victorian gothic vampire.  However, the skirt would have barely covered her butt while giving a wonderful view of her chest.  No one would have noticed the little plastic white fangs that came with the outfit.  Of course, no one in Victorian London would have let her out the front door in the first place.  (You’re being an over-protective, grumpy boyfriend.  Lighten up.  Dressing up for Halloween is supposed to be fun and about exploring your adventurous side.)

[GAGE- I was more worried about some incubus or werewolf wanting to personally explore Trixie’s adventurous side. Now keep out of this story.]

“I like this,” I countered, holding up a nun’s black and white habit that covered every inch of her skin.

“You want her to be a penguin,” Bronx said with a smirk.  “I thought you’d want her to be something cute and cuddly.  What about a cat?”

I glared at the troll.  The costume he was talking about was skin tight faux leather and came with a whip.  Not what I had in mind.

“Don’t you need to go look for a costume over in the big and tall section?” I snapped.

“I’m not wearing that, Gage,” Trixie said with a warning look before turning back to the Greek goddess costume now in her hand.  That was not an improvement.    The toga draped over one shoulder and fell about mid-thigh.  Combined with her long blond hair and large green eyes, Trixie was going to attract every male at the party.

“What are you going to be, Gage?” Trixie asked.

“I thought I’d go as myself.”

(A total kill joy?)

[GAGE- Shut. Up.]

“A sour puss?” Bronx suggested.

“A grumpy old man?” Trixie said.

(A big baby?)

“How about I go as an elf?” I said with a smirk directed at my dear elf girlfriend.  While the Summer Court was no longer hunting Trixie, she had never revealed to the people of Low Town that she was actually an elf.  Only a handful of people knew the truth.  Standing in the costume shop, she looked like a normal human woman with a sweet heart-shaped face and dark brown hair.

“Or maybe I could go as a troll?” I continued, glancing over at Bronx, the troll.

He shook his head, looking as if he were struggling not to smile.  “You don’t have the thighs for it.”

I also was about a foot too short, at least two hundred pounds too light, and my skin wasn’t a thick gray hide like a rhino’s butt.

“That’s it!” Trixie said, putting a sexy cowgirl outfit back on the shelf.  She turned around to both of us and pulled me close when she dropped her voice near a whisper.  “We’ll go as ourselves.”

“What?  You’re going to be a sexy tattoo artist?” I asked.

Bronx grinned.  “I don’t think I could convincingly pull off a sexy tattoo artist costume.”

Trixie gave him a shove on his arm, though he didn’t budge.  “No, I’ll go as an elf and Gage will go as a warlock.”

“Is that a good idea?” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure that no one heard her.  I really didn’t need the people of Low Town to know that I was one of the most hated creatures in the world.

“Sure.  No one will believe it because it’s Halloween.  I can drop the glamour for the night and be me.  It’ll be fun.”

“What about Bronx?  Everyone knows he’s a troll.”

Trixie smiled at the mountain beside her.  “I’ve got something planned for him.”

For the first time in the all the years I had Bronx, the troll looked afraid.

When we showed up Parker’s costume party days later, Trixie wore a wispy, flowered dress that made her look like a delicate orchid.  She had a set of amazingly realistic pointed ears (HA!) and an ethereal quality that made her just seem like a real elf.  I dressed in the traditional garb of the warlocks from the Ivory Towers – black cloak, black suit and tie, grim expression, and wand.  More than a few guest gave me an uneasy look as they scampered to another part of the house.  It was like Death had sat down next them on the couch. (He’s not a bad guy. You should have invited him to tag along.)  The experience was unnerving and I was only comforted by the fact that I was carrying my real wand.

Bronx… poor Bronx.  Trixie convinced Bronx to dress as a Magic Troll.  We found a bright purple wig where the hair stood straight up.  We even found an oversized fake gem that we glued to his stomach.  My dear friend, the troll, was dressed up like a child’s toy when he could have easily been the most frightening of all of us.

(He is never going to forgive you for this.)

But Bronx wasn’t mad.  He won the costume contest at the party, pocketing a cool $100 at the end of the night.

 

If you’ve enjoyed this visit to Low Town and Gage’s story, be sure to check out the Asylum Tales series.  Happy Halloween!