Halloween Anthology In Boring 2021 - SCP Foundation

Escapism

'Close'

"Fae. Fae? Fae!" Alex Molina's voice was finally able to break Faeowynn out of the trance she found herself in.

"Huh? Oh hey, Alex. What's up?" She asked, moving her eyes up from the zoning permit she had been reading through.

"I was asking if you were still down for our couple's costume this Sunday."

"Huh? Costume? What are you talking about?"

"It's Halloween this Sunday, babe. Don't tell me you forgot."

There was a brief silence between the couple.

"It's okay if you forgot, I can help you get your costume together. There's still time."

"Sorry… It's just…" She sighed.

"I know you're very busy. And I know how hard you've been working behind the scenes. It's not immediately noticeable but trust me, I know you've been slaving away back here ever since… you know…"

"Dad."

"Yeah."

"I appreciate your offer to help, but I really need to finish reading the wording on this zoning agreement for the Aquatics Center."

"What you need is a break."

"But I need to finish reading this-"

"Is it due immediately?"

"No, but-"

"Then it can wait. Come on. I know you love Halloween. Let's work on your costume and forget about the paperwork for a few days."

"Alex…"

"Yes?"

"I…"

Halloween had always been Faeowynn's favorite holiday. Before she had come out she had used it as an excuse to wear dresses and skirts as a costume. She looked forward to it every year; a day where she could dress up as she always wanted to, free of judgment. Even after she came out she had always been known at her university for her elaborate costumes and generosity to trick-or-treaters. She still loved the holiday, but the death of Tim Wilson had really put her in a difficult situation.

She was effectively the new COO of Wilson's Wildlife Solutions, and the first thing she had discovered upon her promotion was just how much paperwork her father had let fall to the wayside. They were almost years behind, and her every waking hour had been spent trying to catch the Center up to date and keeping things afloat. And to top all of that off, she still had to keep up appearances for the Supervisors.

But Alex was right. She did need a break. She'd been at this for months with no end in sight. What would a few days cost her?

"I… fine."

"Really?"

"Yes. Fine. I'll go work on my costume."

"You'll make a great Lydia."

"Oh, hush you."

"It's showtime!"

"Nerd."

How To Summon A Demon

'Close'

"What's the matter Mikey, wore yourself out already?" Artie teased.

"Fuck you guys. You try carting five gallons of crap uphill and tell me how you feel after the fact."

"We only asked you to do it because we know you're the strongest out of all of us." Kevin joined in.

"More like the only one with money. I bet none of you guys are gonna pay me back for buying all this crap from the butcher."

"Sorry, Mikey, my mom doesn't give me my allowance until next week."

"Yeah, same here."

"Me too."

"Fuck you guys. Why do I even bother." Mikey stood up and turned around as if to leave.

"Wait, Mikey. If you leave now you'll miss the summoning." Kevin stepped forward to prevent Mikey from leaving.

"Yeah, I've got the book right here. Aren't you curious as to what will happen?" Artie reached into his bag on the ground and pulled out a rather old-looking tome with fancy lettering on the cover reading 'Fizzlebang's Guide to Magik'.

"…" Mikey stopped, turning around to look at the book. "Fine. But only because I already spent the money and I want to see what happens."

"Where did you even get that book, Artie?" Fred asked.

"My sister goes to Deer. This is one of her old textbooks."

"What's Deer?"

"It's a magic school or something like that."

"So let's get this show on the road. What do we need to do?"

"We need to draw a sigil on the ground using the blood. Did everybody bring their raincoats?" Artie reached into his bag again, pulling out an opaque white poncho and gloves.

"Yes." The other three boys responded, each of them producing rubber raincoats of varying colors from their person.

"Alright. So let's get cracking." Kevin, way ahead of the others, was already putting his coat on and reaching for the buckets.

The boys each put on their raincoats and set about illustrating a magic circle as outlined in the book. This took them about an hour to finish, guided by the light of the crackling fire they had started earlier. After a bit of a struggle and taking some artistic licenses with a few of the runes in the circle, the boys finished.

"There. Good thing we didn't need the blood of a virgin or we would have run out of Mikey's blood." Artie teased.

"Fuck you, Arthur."

"Come on guys, be nice. If it weren't for Mikey we wouldn't have had the necessary materials." Fred interjected, wiping the blood off his hands on his raincoat.

"So how about we get that incantation going?" Kevin reached for the book but was immediately stopped by Artie.

"Dude! Don't touch the book with your dirty hands. Here, let's clean up with some of this water." Artie reached behind the fallen log they were sitting on earlier and produced a bottle of water. The boys each took turns until their hands were as clean as they could be.

"Alright. Now let's see… 'How to summon a demon.'" Artie flipped through the pages until he found the appropriate spell.

"A… demon?" Mikey flinched.

"You're not scared, are ya?" Kevin grinned.

"No! It's just… a demon? Shouldn't that be a higher-level spell? And we're practically beginners. Wouldn't it be hard for us to summon and contain a demon?"

"Don't be such a pussy, Mikey. It's Halloween. A demon is only appropriate."

"Fine. But if it turns hostile, I'm the first one out of here."

"Your loss, dude." Artie shrugged. "Now come get behind me so I can start the ritual."

The boys all shuffled behind Artie, Mikey took a seat on the fallen log as the other two shoved one another to get a better look at the book Artie was reading from.

"Acov eidoh ihim muertic ,oseauq ,murotenicotua sued o!"

The magic circle began glowing a faint red as Artie read, a sudden wind current kicked up near them and began blowing leaves into the air.

"Melituni alucihev ihim ad te ,ididros icrop muicifircas coh emus!"

He continued, the glowing intensified as the wind now threatened to blow away the three standing boys. A dark fissure opened itself upon the ground where the magic circle had been drawn. It quickly expanded, plunging the area into darkness as it snuffed out the nearby fire. All that could be seen now was the glowing magic circle, its runes sparking with unknown energy as the spell drew to a close.

Suddenly, there was a loud 'clunk' and everything around them stopped and returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

"What happened?" Mikey asked.

"I don't know, I can't see shit!" Fred replied.

"We all have phones, idiots, turn on the flashlight app!" Kevin snided.

There was a small commotion as the boys tried to pull out their phones from over their bloodied raincoats. All of them ended up on the forest floor as they finally produced their cell phones and illuminated the scene. Before them lay an unusual sight, a 1996 Chevy Impala SS.

"A car? I don't understand." Artie stared at ahead of him, dumbfounded.

"At least now we can drive around town in style. It may be old, but hey, its vintage. The chicks dig vintage." Fred shrugged, approaching the vehicle and opening the driver's door.

"Hey, Artie, can I see that book?" Mikey stood up, approaching his friend. The boy handed him the book, still too confused to react.

Mikey pointed his flashlight at the title of the spell and read it several times.

"Artie, you fucking idiot. The spell was 'how to summon a lemon.' It was in cursive, you utter buffoon."

Tradition

'Close'

Grandma Molina hummed to herself as she spread cempasúchiles petals around her family's humble ofrenda. The old woman took great care as to not disturb the candles lit around the portraits of her deceased family. Finally content with her work, she slowly shambled her way over to the nearby rocking chair and took a seat. She admired the ofrenda at a distance, letting the memories of her family flood in.

Suddenly, she was a little girl again, walking alongside her father towards the cemetery with a bottle of wine and box of cigars in tow. She looked up to her father, a stern but loving man, with curiosity in her eyes.

"Papá, why are we bringing that to the cemetery?"

"It's for your grandfather, Araceli."

The two continued on their walk, watching as other families carrying similar objects left their houses and joined them in their walk to the cemetery. As a little girl, she didn't understand why the adults carried these offerings to the dead.

"Papá, isn't my grandfather dead?"

"Yes."

"Then why do we bring these things to him?"

"Because it's tradition."

Tradition, it seemed, was good enough for her father. It would have to be good enough for her too. She wasn't even sure she understood it now, but she did understand tradition. Tradition, of course, meant the continuing of customs that one didn't necessarily have to understand to uphold. It was done because your ancestors did it. And that was good enough for many. It would have to be good enough for her.

A gentle breeze carried from outside into the room with the ofrenda, blowing out one of the candles. Grandma Molina got up from her rocking chair with much difficulty, as her age was catching up to her something fierce. She reached for the matchbook in her sweater's pocket and struggled a bit in striking a match to relight the candle. Once her task was complete, she ambled back to the window and shut it. Again, she sat down at her rocking chair.

She was a young woman again. She was weeping, carrying a doll and a bag full of candies. Accompanying her husband on their way to the cemetery. They were silent as they walked, hanging their heads low in grievance. They entered the cemetery and made their way to a small grave in the corner. It read 'Maria Julia Molina, March 3rd, 1965- April 2nd, 1966.' The couple looked at each other and laid the doll and candies by the grave. She buried her face in her husband's chest seeking comfort, which he duly provided.

Tradition had carried her here year after year, leaving behind a toy doll and candies every year for her deceased child. Every year until she left Mexico. But she still kept her daughter in her ofrenda. Grandma Molina opened her eyes to look at her ofrenda once more. She saw photos of her parents, her daughter, and her sister staring back at her. She smiled, then shut her eyes again.

Some time later, her youngest grandson came into the room, waking Grandma Molina as he did so.

"Abuela, why do we make the ofrenda every year?"

She smiled and shared her tradition with her grandson.

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