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[personal profile] cyberghostface posting in [community profile] scans_daily


This was from Twisted Tales #1.

The story opens with a couple of high schoolers about to go trick or treating. One of them, Binky, an overweight kid in a devil costume, says they're getting too old for this. He decides to go to a neighbor's house despite not being one their preplanned 'route'.








""

Date: 2014-10-18 08:50 pm (UTC)
fungo_squiggly: (Default)
From: [personal profile] fungo_squiggly
Such a pity that there is absolutely no possible way to stop unarmed teenagers in Halloween costumes. Not even if you knew the exact night they would be coming, and had six whole years to prepare for them.

Because if you try to resist... they'll FOLLOW you EVERYWHERE, they will!

Isn't it worth the life of your child to avoid that?

Date: 2014-10-18 09:00 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] donnblake
That actually took me longer than I like to admit to catch on. First reading, I thought that he was just disfigured in the fire, until I reread and realized that they picked him up and dropped him off in the graveyard.

Date: 2014-10-18 09:50 pm (UTC)
q99: (Default)
From: [personal profile] q99
"You know what happened when the others resisted."

Date: 2014-10-19 12:33 pm (UTC)
icon_uk: (Default)
From: [personal profile] icon_uk
One of them is the ghost of the dead boy, but that doesn't mean you couldn't get the other kids arrested for murder, when it's clear they've murdered five other kids in cold blood over the past five years, and possibly murdered a whole family as an object lesson along the way.

Date: 2014-10-19 01:54 pm (UTC)
sharky_chan: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sharky_chan
I got the impression that the ghost is haunting the town, and this ritual sacrifice of children is the town's agreed upon method for appeasing it (sort of a Minotaur and the Athenian youths thing). I mean, the teens seem more resigned than bloodthirsty, and while the townspeople are upset it's more of an impotent anger and sorrow at forces bigger than themselves...but I dunno :P. I prefer that interpretation at least!

Date: 2014-10-20 04:54 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] md84
Yeah, you could charge them with murder. But then you'd have to make a case which admits the reality of a freaking revenant taking its vengeance from beyond the grave.

And his friends seem more weary of the whole ugly business than anything else. Binky in particular seems glad that he can finally get rid of his costume for good. And Jack's just glad that Skeeter can finally rest.

Date: 2014-10-18 08:57 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] donnblake
Yeah. Leaving things vague "what happened when the others tried to resist," can be very effective, but you have to at least hint that it was *something* horrible.

Date: 2014-10-18 10:01 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] drtechnobabel
I dunno, man. Having an overweight teenager in a devil costume following you around everywhere is bad enough, but one dressed as a hobo? Terrifying

Imagine him just standing there, watching you buy groceries, or filing your taxes, or pooping, or having sex. After a couple weeks of that, I might consider letting them just take my kid already.
Edited Date: 2014-10-18 10:01 pm (UTC)

Date: 2014-10-19 12:01 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] drtechnobabel
"Come on, Skeeter. It's only a couple more blocks now."

Jack gently tugged Skeeter's hand and led him further down the sidewalk. It was late enough that all of the other trick-or-treaters had finished their rounds, so the two of them had the streets to themselves. Even the fire was far behind them by now, so the only light left came from the streetlamps, stretching ahead and illuminating the path before them.

Jack shivered and pulled the ratty coat closer to his body. The others had probably already made their way home by now and changed out of their old costumes and into comfortable pajamas. They may even already be asleep, tucked deep under the covers and finally putting all of this behind them. As much as Jack wished he could join them right now, he knew that he had to see this through to the end. After all, what kind of friend would he be if he let Skeeter walk home all by himself?

Jack looked down at the small form under the sheet beside him, his only companion left on this long, lonely walk. It suddenly hit him that this would probably be the last such walk he would have with Skeeter. The last time that he would ever see his friend again. His stomach sank, and he unconsciously squeezed Skeeter's hand. The pressure caused it to make a sickening squishing sound, and Jack felt pus leaking out onto the palm of his hand. "Oh, sorry Skeeter...", he said, "Didn't mean t' do that. Hope it didn't hurt too bad."

Skeeter didn't respond. Jack figured that he couldn't by now anyway. If the fire didn't destroy his voice, the years of rot probably did. Thinking about it, Jack was surprised that Skeeter didn't smell worse, given how long he'd been dead. Sure, he smelled pretty bad, but it wasn't the stomach-churning stench that Jack would expect from almost seven years of decay. Maybe it was just because they were outside in the fresh air all the time. He would probably smell way worse if he were kept indoors, though they never stayed inside a house long enough for Jack to tell.

They were getting closer to the graveyard. Should Jack say something? Just walking in silence was nice enough, but if he didn't say anything now, he might never get the chance to again. Jack slowed down a bit, and Skeeter altered his pace to match.

"Look, Skeeter," he began, "It... It was real nice seeing you again. I mean, I know we didn't really get a chance to know each other real well when you were... y'know... but I always thought of you as one of us. Even if it was only a couple o' months."

Skeeter let out a rattled wheeze and continued shuffling down the sidewalk.

"I'm sure the others feel the same. I don't think I've ever seen Bradshaw blubber and wail as much as he did at your funeral. And Carlos barely spoke a peep for months after. And man, when you showed up that first year, and we figured out it was you, we were just so happy you were back."

Jack sighed, "These past couple years have been tough, though. I mean, what we've done... ain't too sure there'll be much forgiveness around here for our actions. And I won't lie, what you ended up doing to the Millers when they tried to go after us gave me nightmares for weeks after." Jack started to tear up, "But when I think about how much you must have been hurting that night, how much you might be hurting now.... how everyone pretty much ignored the whole thing, just because Police Chief Smith's son would've gotten in trouble..."

He clenched his free hand into a fist, "They deserved it. All of them. And I don't give a damn what happens to us now, 'cause we did what was right."

Jack could see the gate now. Only half a block remained between it and them. He looked back down at Skeeter, who had slowed down as they got closer to the graveyard. Jack reached up and wiped the tears off his own face, "Sorry about that. I really shouldn't be worrying you now. We'll be fine without you, honest. Everyone's scared enough of you as is. They won't come after us long as they think you've go our backs. Sure, people might not talk to us much, but we can always move someplace else once we graduate." He gave Skeeter a small smile, "Important thing is that we finally did it, Skeeter. It's all over now."

They were in front of the gate now. Jack took a deep breath and kneeled down to face his friend, "Well, this is it. Guess it's time to say goodbye." He felt his voice start to break, "I mean, it's not like this is the first time, but this feels different, y'know? I mean, we ain't ever going to see you again, and-"

Jack felt Skeeter squeeze his hand. He didn't even realize until now that he still hadn't let go. He pulled his hand away and stood up. He almost wiped the pus and juice off onto his pants, but for some reason it just didn't feel right to do it in front of Skeeter. He watched as Skeeter turned towards the gate and shuffled down the cobblestone path towards the graveyard.

As Jack turned away, he gave one last wave over his shoulder, "S'long, Skeeter... get some rest now, y'hear? You get some rest..." And with that, Jack left the graveyard behind him, and headed home to the warmth of his bed.

Date: 2014-10-19 12:35 pm (UTC)
icon_uk: (Default)
From: [personal profile] icon_uk
That's very sweet, but I have a hard time forgiving a bunch of kids for multiple gruesome murders because they're exacting vigilante revenge on a horrfic, but accidental, crime.

Date: 2014-10-19 08:28 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] drtechnobabel
Nor would I expect you to. I agree that no matter how you look at it or in Jack's case, try to justify it, this was an extreme case of Disproportionate Retribution (as a lot of good horror stories are). This is just a scene that popped into my head that I felt I had to write down.
Edited Date: 2014-10-19 08:42 pm (UTC)

Date: 2014-10-19 01:23 am (UTC)
crinos: (Default)
From: [personal profile] crinos
You know, it just occurs to me this could be a really fucked up episode of South Park.

I mean more fucked up than usual.

Date: 2014-10-19 08:30 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] drtechnobabel
Oh great, now I can't stop imagining Bradshaw with Cartman's voice.

And suddenly this comic became even better.

Date: 2014-10-19 10:45 am (UTC)
hradzka: Cassidy, from Garth Ennis's PREACHER. (Default)
From: [personal profile] hradzka
I really liked this, actually. Nice stuff.

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