Peeking between the pumpkins Willy, the naughty imp stretched his aching arms. It had been a restful 100 year sleep since his last Halloween and now he was bursting with mishievous energy. He scratched a long (and slightly grubby) fingernail down the sweet flesh of the mountain of fruit beside him and sucked it up thoughtfully.
What vexing behaviour to try first...? Memories of mischief flooded his tiny mind and he couldn't help but giggle delightedly. Cocking a very pointy ear he paused in his merriment and listened carefully. Carried to him on the playful autumn breeze was a tinkling music laced with laughter and excited chatter. It could only mean one thing - a party! Needing no further invitation he scampered off following the sounds and scents of the festivities.
Our elfin friend (for although a touch on the bad side, is actually a hero of this tale) stood transfixed at the scene laid out before him. Flickering light from a bonfire illuminated a ghoulish spectacle. Witches, warlocks, blood-sucking vampires and werewolves ran amok chasing ghostly figures that didn't so much as float but more
tramped across the damp grass leaving a crushed trail.
Willy flittered seemingly un-noticed among the throng, though his presence was surely felt as he carefully unravelled a gossamer spider string donated by a kindly garden friend. Noses twitched and hands flicked to sweep away the tickling mesh. He clambered into a barrel of apples intent on a bite of some more fruity supper but nearly received a soaking as they were tipped into a bucket of icy water. "Humans" he fumed, as he headed off... This kind of fun was for the people hatchlings, he had the sounds of another fiesta in his tiny ear... one unheard by unsuspecting children and not for their delicate stomachs either!
***
Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble, round and round the cauldron swirled the spell, spitting and spattering those that stirred with dark brown stains.
Mildred, Meggie and Millicent picked at their warts and shook their dandruff into the poisonous mixture. What a party it would prove to be... this would teach those vile vampires not to invite them to the festivities...
***
Viktor asked Wulfie for the hundredth time that evening if his make up looked OK; he hated not being the palest at the party. It was very tiresome being a vain vampire sometimes. He envied the humans their looking glasses. "Mind you," he mused looking down his imperious nose at the matted and mangy hair of his companion, "...sometimes it could be a blessing". Viktor lifted his collar and ran his tongue over his fine sharp teeth. "Come along then mutt" he ordered and the two headed off to the castle ruins, just as they had done every October for the last 500 years. Viktor smiled remembering their first party which had caused the castle to fall into its current state of dishevelment. The Duke of Barnborough had not been best pleased - he complained that Viktor and his cronies would suck him dry... so that is exactly what they did! Foolish human.
They arrived to the usual mayhem as witches fought for first taste of the blood punch and lurkers hung around the edge of the dance floor trying to catch the eyes of fair maidens. Viktor had tried to ban the practice years ago, but Mudwen and his cronies would always turn up with a bag of them
The evil vampire floated theatrically to the top of the crumbling battlements and began his traditional party-opening speech. As the years had gone by he'd noticed less attention paid to him and more to the festering banquet; but this year that would all change. It was time he was once more accorded the due respect deserved to his (self-titled) role of Lord of the Underworld. He fingered the tiny vial concealed in his cloak and felt the heat from the potion within. This would knock the snivelling rabble down to size... Wulfie let out a wild howl and finally a semblence of silence descended on the gathered throng.
***
Meanwhile, Willy, hell-bent on causing mayhem was observing the three mad witches with interest. They appeared to be bottling some kind of party brew. Willy was mightily thirsty and enjoyed a drink as much as the next imp - particularly one with bubbles in a glass bottle. A whole row of the stuff was left balanced precariously on Mildred's broom as the hags went in their hovel to rip their dresses and scratch open a few scabs in preparation for a girls' night out. Willy crept silently toward the elixir with his gossamer spider's trail still dragging behind him.
What Willy didn't realise though was that things had changed since his last Halloween. Human hatchlings were far more street-wise and savvy these days. Tickling threads of sparkling spider web disappearing into the distance were interesting trails to be followed, particularly when there appeared to be a very small and ugly little creature at the head of them. 13 pairs of eyes also fancied a drop of some sparkling brown stuff and they also had to check out what special effect was making that broom float...
Mayhem would no doubt have ensued had Mildred, Meggie and Millicent returned outside to collect their brew. Regrettably, Meggie had mistakenly complimented Millicent's worst gown and the enraged witch had clumsily cast a spell in a confined space that had a 'strictly for outdoor use' label and the three of them were now balancing precariously at the top of a Baobab tree on the fringes of the Kalahari desert. Millicent, the only one carrying a wand at the time, had dropped said article on the head of a sleeping lion. He was now chewing it thoughtfully while he considered which witch would make his starter, main course and dessert.
Instead, the vile brew intended to cause a stir at Viktor's party was being quaffed by 13 children and one over-excited imp who had suddenly gained a whole gang of miscreants to join in his fun. As the potion began to work its magic on the assembled throng Willy, who the small humans kept mysteriously calling Dobby, led his crew to a 'special party'. (As you may have gathered, and will see more proof of, the hapless witches hadn't done very well in their spell-making GCSEs).
Viktor's lengthy speech was drawing to a climax to the relief of the assembled mob. They felt it only right that he should be allowed his final moment... before they toppled him from his lofty perch and ripped him limb from limb.
Viktor's thumb carefully eased the cork from the vial...
The mob, as one, began to murmer and chant a spell-binding incantation...
13 children fuelled by a 'near-enough' imitation of coca-cola, but with rather a lot of extra caffeine, hotly pursued by an imp called Dobby, or was it Willy?... charged into the castle alive with raucous laughter making enough noise to wake the dead (had they not already been awake and standing in front of them).
Viktor nearly fell from his battlements in shock. Regrettably the liquid he had intended for the mysteriously chanting crowd below leapt from its container drenching him.... He started shrinking...
The mob's chanting ended abruptly at the mysterious interuption. But everyone knows that stopping half way through a task of such gravitas is deadly. The children's laughter and excited chatter finished the spell... Their glee increased at the wonderful show the house elf Dobby was putting on for them. Over-inflated witches whizzed past their heads like popped ballooons, werewolves started resemebling guinea pigs and vampires ran amok trying to collect their teeth which were dropping from their jaws like showers of rain.
Dragging themselves home later, pockets full of vampire teeth and new pet guinea pigs, they all agreed it was the best Halloween ever.
Willy tip-toed back to his hole in the wall as quietly and unobtrusively as he could. His mischief for the night was done and he thought it best to keep a low profile for another hundred years or so.
Viktor, dishevelled and tired, crawled back into his coffin, now 50 sizes too big, snuggled up to a very large teddy and cried himself to sleep... The modern world was really no place for a vampire...
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