WHO. The reincarnation of Samhain. WHAT. Introducing the world of reincarnates to a little Halloween-themed mischief. WHERE. Athens, Ohio. WHEN. Saturday, October 31st 2015 WARNINGS. None in particular.
Every year, it begins the same way it did the last. First, the leaves: the bright, glossy greens fading into the crisp, crunching yellows and reds. Second, the weather: the beads of sweat rolling down your neck dissolving into a chilling shiver that rides the ladder of your spine until you no longer feel your fingertips. Three: Hallowe'en. The word needed no elaboration. No further explanation. It resounded on its own and lived in the minds of every individual, no matter how elderly, how newborn. Everyone could feel it. Everyone can feel it. Everyone would feel it. No one knew this like Sam knew this.
A family hustled and bustled down the sidewalk; the mother scoffed with no hesitation in the direction of a friendly ghost's faux face flailing from a lamppost. He watched, eyes hidden behind burlap. "I want to be a ghost!" Shouted the youngest son, shooting his hands up into the air with unprecedented glee and his sister pointed at it, clapping her hands in excitement. A ghost, a ghoul, a poltergeist, a spirit, an apparition, a spectre. Boo! They danced with sheets around their bodies and kept their warm flesh safe from what truly awaited them on the next plane. His plane.
"You can't be a ghost, honey." The mother sighed. 'Brian' groaned, digging his hands into his jean pockets. Their daughter, in pigtails, pulled open the door to the costume shop. The bell on the door jingled, inviting them inside. Yes, come in. Come in. Sam did, scampering past the family and inside with a giggle.
Everyone celebrated inside the costume shop. Everyone hid themselves inside of a mask. Those who did not believe jeered and left empty-handed. He hissed through his teeth, burying himself inside of a round metallic rack. "Pick something," their mother said. "And make it quick, alright? We've got things to do today." Impatience. She didn't believe. She didn't celebrate. Skepticism. Tsk. Brian and his sister darted towards what they wanted. The boy of the two frowned at the costume of the gruesome looking ghost and moped past. The girl eyed something with fangs.
"Look at this one, babe," the father called out, carefully avoiding a collision with a teenage girl holding a tiara. "Look." In his hands sat a headband with an arrow made to give off the appearance of its moving through his skull. He placed it on his head, sticking out his tongue to further the effect of such a wicked way to perish.
Sam grinned.
The wife rolled her eyes. "Cute. Put it back."
"Oh, c'mon, where's your sense of Halloween spirit, hun? You're probably the only person in this store who doesn't give a shit about this holiday, Ebenezer."
"You know what? Being a frickin' .." She lowered her voice, her gaze darting around the room, "reincarnate is enough of a hell, alright? Every day is like Halloween anymore. Forgive me if I don't feel like adding insult to injury, Rob."
Reincarnate. Yes. He knew that word. He felt that word writhing in his gut. The spirit in his soul, in his mind, crawling beneath every fiber of his skin - oh, he knew. Samhain. Sammy. Sam. Him. They were two made one. Just as she. Just as the skeptic. He giggled. Her eyes fell upon the rack, but he did not remove himself from its confines. She took a step forward, prepared to push back the hangers. A step further, hands outstretched.
"Mom, look!"
Brian stepped out of the dressing room with his arms spread wide. Upon his person rested the gruesome ghoul he'd stared at so forlornly. "No. I told you about this. Take it off."
"No!"
No. Brian longed to be a ghost. She did not understand. She needed to understand. They all needed to. Yes. Yes. He would make them understand. Each of them. Those like them. "Do you want to be grounded? Take off the damn ghost costume."
She threw her grip forward, but her fingers fell through air. Her wrist trembled from the cold. She blinked. Once. Twice. Something dry hit her throat and as she looked from her hand to her son, a scream got caught in her mouth. Where Brian stood now inhaled a hoarse, gray figure. Its face was contorted in agony, making an attempt to take in air, but instead only wheezing. It moved forward, dragging its feet across the floor slowly, step by dreadful step. "R-R-ROB! ROB! SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH BRI -" She moved backwards, instantly hitting something hard.
Rob was behind his wife, looking at her with a face full of pity and concern. "Honey... What are you talking about? Brian is dead. He's been dead for a year. You- you know that. Don't you?"
The mother's face went as white as a sheet, and almost immediately started screaming again.
Sam wiggled his way through the crowd, moving through legs and past hips until the bell on the costume shop door rang. He turned the sign hanging there and continued back down the sidewalk. Sam looked to the plastic ghost waving in the wind, the sound howling just as a woman's final scream echoed in the distance.
In that instant, the rest of the reincarnates would feel it, too. Now was the time to play. Now was the time to run from what you thought only lived inside legends. Now was the time to believe.