among the haunted

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Inspired by a writing prompt by @writing-prompt-s, you are a single parent raising two kids while living in a haunted house. Live through the day of Halloween while you go about your day on 13 Hallows Lane. What will you do on the day of Halloween? Decorate your house? Play some pranks on poor trick-o-treaters with help from the ghosts within your walls? Attend to your children to make sure they do not tell anyone that your house is haunted? The choice is yours! <b>Warning: this game has mentions of blood, ghosts, spiders and clowns, as well as disturbing themes. Please proceed with caution.</b> <div class='button-fun'><<button "BEGIN" "pg1">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[BEGIN|pg1]]*/

Among the Haunted

by Aurelia Lim and Alby Writes Fiction

One moment, you are dreaming of an abyss, the depth unfathomable and pitch black. You want to go across, but the chasm is huge. Usually, in the right head, you would calculate how much power it would take for you to jump over the edge and land on the corner of the other side. Instead, your feet moves for you, poised to go. But right as you are about to take a leap, the scenery changes. The next moment, you are in a gloomy forest. A thick mist coats the air and clouds your eyelashes. You blink to clear your vision before you realize there is a fork in the path. Down one path, you can hear a faint tune. It sounds like someone is singing, although you are not sure what the song is. On another, you hear the ominous laughter of children. The voices sound familiar, but you cannot quite pinpoint them. And the third path is covered in leaves, with small pumpkin lanterns leading down the pathway. There are no sounds coming from it, but the mist appears thicker... So which path will you take? <ul> <li>[[You go down the first path to the song.|pg2firstpath]]</li> <li>[[You go down the second path to the laughter.|pg2secondpath]]</li> <li>[[You go down the third path to the silence.|pg2thirdpath]]</li> </ul>

[[Credits]]

Thanks to @writing-prompt-s for the following prompt: //"You live in a very haunted house, but it’s not that bad. The voices in the basement remind you of your laundry and tell you to check the boiler, the rat size talking spider keeps the pests away and is a pretty good therapist, and the victorian ghost children are great friends with your kids."// Written by Aurelia Lim and coded by AlbyWritesFiction! Special thanks as well to Ash, author of Inner Demons, for some UI inspiration from her Twine/Sugarcube 2 Template! All images came from Unsplash and were found by Alby.

The voice is hypnotizing, like smooth velvet you could run your hands over with a soft undertone. A caress similar to a loving mother's touch... As you get closer, the song increases in its volume and becomes more recognizable. When you realize the owner of the voice, your feet come to a stop. A cold breeze whips your clothes and sends a cold shiver down your spine. You move quicker now, hurrying towards the source. Who cares if it is a vengeful nymph luring you to a lagoon? You need to see it. You //need// to find it. The //thump thump// of your shoes hitting the soft, soiled ground is faint against your ears as you move around small, prickly bushes and trees devoid of leaves. Your heart leaps into your throat with every octave the voice hits, beating rhythmically to the tune. It recognizes the song, the oh-so-familiar song. You need to squint as the fog gets harder to see through, but you are determined. Finally, you run into a clearing--the end of the path. You are heaving, hands bracing your knees as you bend over. There is a moment where the only sound made is the sound of heavy breathing. This is when it occurs to you that the singer has stopped. You lift your head up, mouth slightly agape. The blood in your veins freezes. Again, a cold breeze blows past you and sends another shiver. This time, you shake and sway. <div class='button-fun'><<button "There is nobody there." "pg3firstpath">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[There is nobody there.|pg3firstpath]]*/

You are used to the sound of children laughing--you hear it all the time, even. But this laughter is different. It holds a different tone. But the voices are familiar. They are the same. You head down the path, hands coming up to warm your arms as you tuck them in. The shirt you are wearing keeps little warmth, but at least you are not naked. Your teeth chatter and grows violent as a strong breeze sweeps by, sending chills to various parts of your body. The fog gets thicker the closer you get in. You have to squint your eyes to even be able to see through. But your determination keeps you going. Finally, you come into a clearing where the path ends. You are slightly out of breath, but at least you are not bent over gasping for air. The sight in front of you knocks the breath out of your lungs. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Kids?"' "pg3secondpath">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Kids?"'|pg3secondpath]]*/

The lanterns are meant to be a signal of reassurance. At least that is what you think your brain wants you to believe. It sends a wave of warmth your way despite the coolness of the mist. The leaves //crunch// under your shoes as you venture deeper down the path. The noise is comforting against the stillness in the air. The mist has gotten significantly dense until you cannot see the bottom half of your feet nor path in front of you. You are unsure how you manage not to collide into any trees. But you do not, which is a relief since you would hate to hit face-first into one. The leaves remind you of the path, and the pumpkin lanterns, though barely visible, emits a softened glow, allowing you to trace your way through. You have no idea how long you walk for. Minutes? Hours? Days? It is hard to keep track of time when you are wandering through a misty forest like a lost lamb. The next few moments are a blur. You do not know if you have triggered a trap or slipped on leaves, but you are flying and falling to the ground. You never make impact with the ground. <div class='button-fun'><<button "But you are falling." "pg3thirdpath">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[But you are falling.|pg3thirdpath]]*/

That voice... <<timed 3s transition>>But...<</timed>> <<timed 6s transition>>That voice...<</timed>> <<timed 9s transition>>...//was yours.//<</timed>> <<timed 12s>><div class='button-fun'><<button "WAKE UP." "pg4">><</button>></div><</timed>> /*!!!![[WAKE UP.|pg4]]*/

You sit up in your bed, breath caught in your chest. Sweat drips down the side of your temple and coats you in a thin film of stickiness. Your nightclothes cling to your body and it makes everything suffocating. The air is chilly in the morning, especially since it is autumn now. You opted to grab more blankets last night and you find that you are bundled up in them. It would be cozy had you not dreamed what you did. If anything, it only makes you sweat more. <ul> <li>[[You throw the covers off you.|pg5coveroff]]</li> <li>[[You wrap yourself tighter in your safety blanket.|pg5coveron]]</li> <li>[[You allow yourself to cry a few tears. Just once.|pg5cry]]</li> <li>[[You panic. Just a bit.|pg5panic]]</li> <li>[[You collapse onto your pillow, exhausted. You just want to go back to sleep.|pg5tired]]</li> <li>[[You want to scream. Punch. Do something.|pg5violent]]</li> </ul>

It is your kids. But it is not them at the same time. No, their skin is paler. Their eyes are wider. Their hair is longer. They are skipping around, chasing each other with wooden sticks, laughter tinged with the smallest bit of insanity. But when you arrived, they suddenly stopped their play like time had stopped. You know it has not since you flex your hand. And when they turn to meet your eyes...//they smile//. Their teeth are sharper. And the only feeling you are filled with is the urge to <b>runrunasfastasyoucan--</b> <div class='button-fun'><<button "WAKE UP." "pg4">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[WAKE UP.|pg4]]*/

Has the earth vanished from underneath you? No, that cannot be right. You had felt it moments ago. You would have known if you had tripped. So what was going on? You try to turn but your body will not let you. Instead you feel your weight shifting below you. Gravity is tugging you down, down, //down// and there is nothing you can do to brace yourself. Your heart soars as if it is flying, skipping every other beat and jumping up to your throat whenever it feels like it. It is like you are free falling, but your body does not quite register the fact that you //are//. Your mind can barely wrap around the idea of it and yet you are. You flail your arms but everything is moving in slow motion. You try to regain control but your consciousness is beginning to slip. You grasp at emptiness and everything begins to get darker... <div class='button-fun'><<button "WAKE UP." "pg4">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[WAKE UP.|pg4]]*/

You quickly throw the blankets off you, freeing yourself from its grip. It is much colder in the mornings, you find, but right now it is what you need. A fresh, October-esque breeze to carry away the nightmares out the window. A way for you to take a deep breath and live in the moment. Wait...//the window//. Your head quickly snaps to said object and //of course it is open wide//. You groan. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"' "pg6">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"'|pg6]]*/

You wrap yourself tighter in the covers. Sometimes, on the more stressful days of your job, you would long to be cocooned in soft, snuggly blankets where your worries could melt away. A way to escape life's many problems. As it is the early morning, you can afford to hide for a few minutes. Despite the sweat, you are willing to bury deeper inside if it means forgetting your dream. Slowly, steadily, you calm down. The nightmare is a distant memory as you are about to drift off to sleep. If only your head was not feeling cold. It's like you practically can feel the air from outside. You cast a lazy glance at the window and the sight of an open window is enough to chase away any thoughts of going back to sleep. //Why did you think it was closed?// You groan. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"' "pg6">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"'|pg6]]*/

Ever since you became a parent, you have learned to control your emotions. You did not want your children to see you in your vulnerable moments, so you try to keep a brave front for them. But they are not here. Not right now. You can let out your emotions //just// this once. You blow out a shaky sigh, feeling the wave of emotions overcoming any rational thoughts. A few small tears descend down the side of your cheek, trailing down until it glides onto your neck and collarbone. You do not make any moves to wipe it away. A cool mid-autumn wind kisses your cheeks, as if trying to soothe the pain of the nightmare. Somehow, it works and your breathing regulates itself on its own. You thank whoever is up there for sending down a relaxing method. But wait...how did that wind even get into your room? One look at the window is all it takes for the answer to dawn on you. You groan, tears dried up. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"' "pg6">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"'|pg6]]*/

You usually do not panic. If you do, you do it in private when no one else is watching. Especially not in front of the kids. //No,// definitely not. It would not make you seem like a good parent if you freely expressed your life falling apart in front of your own //children//. But they are not here. Not right now. You can panic, if you really need to grab something and squeeze it tight. So you do. You break down, just for a brief moment. ... ...you do not know how long you sit there or when you eventually calm down, but you think it is partly thanks to the temperature drop. Usually you feel a cold sensation every morning, so this is no different, although it feels a little chillier. You think you can even smell earthy wood and rotting leaves. Wait, that is not right. You should not be able to smell these things unless the-- You glance at the open window, your curtains pushed aside to allow the October wind to freeze your bedroom. You groan, the events of your morning pushed aside. Now you have another thing to worry about. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"' "pg6">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"'|pg6]]*/

Mind exhausted and energy gone, you slump back onto your pillows, sighing deeply. You know that you are not going to fall asleep until later tonight. The dream ensured that. Your eyes wander up to the ceiling above. There are a few spider webs formed in the corner of your room, and it is not difficult to detect the cracks in the wall, as if the ceiling were about to collapse in the near future. But you know that would never happen. The air feels colder despite the many blankets you piled onto yourself. A few are discarded on the ground--results from your tossing and turning. Though it has certainly gotten colder the past few days, it has never been this chilly before. Unless... Without a second thought your head turns to the wide open window, the hinges squeaking as the window swings back and forth a bit. A light gust of window tickles your cheek and nose as you draw a conclusion. Once formed, you groan at the thought. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"' "pg6">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"'|pg6]]*/

You want to scream. You want to shout as loud as you can that the earth shakes and your mind clears up for just a moment. Instead it runs through scenes from the nightmare, and you remain quiet and rooted under layers of hot blankets. You do not want to wake up the other occupants in your house--your kids mostly. Instead, you smash a fist into a fluffy pillow, the violence inflicted muffling your pent up emotions. //What are these emotions? Anger? Sadness? Frustration?// You do not know, but it is stinging your chest more than you would like to admit. You take a deep breath. You have to calm down. You must. You turn to look out the window, but once you do you immediately groan at the sight of the hinges swinging the window doors open. <div class='button-fun'><<button '"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"' "pg6">><</button>></div> /*!!!![['"Charlie, what did I say about keeping the window open?"'|pg6]]*/

As if on cue, Charlie's translucent, pale face peeks out from within your peeling yellow walls. He frowns and fully comes out to reveal his short stature, similar to that of a child. His hair and eyes are a light brown, though it appears shades softer in the morning light. Your groggy mind registers the fact that he is wearing a plain white shirt with the simple word //Boo// plastered in the middle of it. You wonder where he got it from. It looks oddly familiar. But the detail your mind catches on to first is his feet hovering a few inches off the ground. He is quick to explain with a concerned look on his face, seemingly unapologetic. "I saw you were having a nightmare, so I decided to open the windows to help you calm down once you woke up." Oh right, you forgot he can look into dreams. Dream walking, as Charlie likes to call it. An ability that all ghosts have. You frown. It is a little uncomfortable knowing that Charlie was able to look into your mind as you slept, but perhaps he has an opinion about it. Maybe it meant more than a creepy dream. "So you saw? What did you make of it?" The young boy shrugs, pressing his lips together as he gets his thoughts in order. "I think it's strange. But at the moment I do not think there is any need for concern. It was the first time you had this type of dream, after all. Either way you should ask Mr. Arach about it--he knows better than I do." You nod at his words, feeling more assured. You should have known that Charlie was not going to have much to say, but perhaps Mr. Arach will know. So for now you drop the subject and move on to another. "Have the kids woken up yet?" "No. It is 7:20 A.M. right now. But I can wake them up if you want?" He smiles brightly with a bit of hope in his eyes. Though Charlie is floating, he somehow manages to rock his heels back and forth, hopping up with anticipation. You cannot help smiling at his excitement despite your head reeling from the time. //Only 7:20? It's way too early to be up at this hour.// "Not yet, but I'm going to get up now since there is no way I'm going to go back to sleep," he winces as you are briefly reminded of the dream again. "Just close the window. I'll be down soon." With new instructions, Charlie gets to work, floating over to the window to shut it. He disappears from your view before the windows close with an abrupt //slam//. Then he materializes and the windows are drawn closed with a flick of his wrist. You watch, amused by the "trick". Charlie does not say anything, but the smile playing on his lips shows his delight. You have no idea why he always looks so happy helping out, but it could be because he feels useful helping you out. Right as Charlie is about to phase through the yellowish walls, he shoots you a shy smile, embarrassed as if he almost forgot something. "Oh, happy Halloween, by the way." With that, he disappears. The sudden greeting hits you with enough whiplash that it slaps you right in the face. //You almost forgot.// How did you--the holiday has been hyped up in your entire house by everyone for weeks! Even months, if you're going to be honest. You //bought// your kids their costumes, too. Well. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You get up, for it is Halloween." "pg7">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[You get up, for it is Halloween.|pg7]]*/

You go through your normal routine. Things are normal for the most part, besides the foggy mirrors with hearts and phrases that would have creeped you out had you not seen them before. Instead of screaming, you smile as you read //"YOU ARE NEXT"//, knowing that it means you are probably going to get a surprise. A good one, judging from the affable nature of most of the creatures residing in your house. Your closet opens once you step out of the bathroom, and you head over to find a suitable outfit. As you thread through the articles of clothing, you notice the costume your children had gotten you to buy. However, you ignore it for now. You're not sure if you are ready to wear it yet. You take a deep breath once you have gotten yourself ready. The floorboards squeak with approval. Your hands move on their own, closing the closet door and rubbing your aching shoulders. You must have slept on the wrong side of the bed, you reason with yourself. As you turn to leave, you note an odd anomaly. Why is your bedroom door closed? Usually you have the door open. A long time ago, before you became a parent, you always preferred to keep it closed. Now, having children with occasional nightmares, you are obligated to open your door in case a child wanders in while you are asleep, wanting to sleep under your warmth. Never mind. You open it to step out into the hallway. Nothing can truly spook you anymore. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Time to head downstairs." "pg8">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[Time to head downstairs.|pg8]]*/

The smell of pumpkin spice wakes up your stomach, which grumbles for food. Near the bottom of the stairs you stumble on broken wood, but the house is quick to soften your land. It helps you regain your footing, and you continue on as if the mishap never occurred. The scent heightens as you get closer to the kitchen, passing by the cobwebbed chandelier delicately hung in the main foyer and sparsely decorated living room. From the basement door, you hear the voices reminding you to take your laundry out later today--you make note of that--as Mr. Arach scurries past you with unusual hurry. Momentarily forgetting your goal, you rush after the spider. The first time you met him, you had not expected a huge rat-sized talking spider to approach you. You had screamed, if you remember correctly. He flinched, but other than that he was relatively calm. Ever since you have gotten used to his presence, less skittish and more relaxed. "Mr. Arach!" He performs an impressive feat--he turns around while crawling towards the front door. "Yes?" "Where are you going?" "We are making a huge cobweb outside the house," he replies, referring to his family. "Don't worry--we will be careful and it can be taken down tomorrow once Halloween is over!" With that, he went through an open window. You sigh, deciding it is no use talking to him now. Once he has free time you can ask him about the...dream. Your entrance into the kitchen is not a warm welcome. Instead, you duck just as a voice shouts for you to, narrowly avoiding a knife slicing the wall behind you. Chef Skelly gives you an awkward smile...well, at least the best one a skeleton can muster. "Oops?" Next to him, another skeleton wearing a black dress elbows his bony ribs, face stretched into a frown. You forget that skeletons used to be humans, and even though the skin is gone they still have their facial features. It is unnerving to see a skeleton frown or smile, but because Wendy always has a scowl you have become more used to it. “Skelly! You could have chopped off a human’s head–literally!” Wendy chastises him before approaching you to make sure there are no wounds. Her brief examination makes you feel wholly seen, likely since she can see through your soul. For a moment, her scowl softens. “Are you okay?” You wave her off, only wanting to eat. This isn’t the first time you almost died, after all. “I’m fine. So what’s for breakfast?” You try to walk past Wendy but unfortunately she serves as a good bodyguard. She blocks your path, preventing you from crossing the threshold between you and Skelly. “Ah, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to wait until the chef here is done,” she tells you, her head tilting as a sign that she isn’t going to back down from her position. “Fine,” you give up, raising your arms. “I get it. But can I at least get a cup of…” <ul> <li>[[Coffee?|pg9]]</li> <li>[[Tea?|pg9]]</li> <li>[[Juice?|pg9]]</li> <li>[[Hot chocolate?|pg9]]</li> <li>[[Water?|pg9]]</li> </ul>

Skelly is already on it as soon as the words leave your lips, grabbing a cup from the cupboard. You watch, in awe of how effortlessly he moves around the kitchen. It's like every inch of the room is etched into his skull; he could open a cabinet, grab something, and close it without a second look. You suppose it comes with being a chef for centuries. Eventually, he finishes and hands you the cup with a flourish. "Your drink." You take a careful sip. It's exactly how you like it. "Mm, that's good." He grins, satisfied by your response. "Glad to hear it. Breakfast should be ready soon." He waves for you to leave, and you cannot help but laugh. Wendy ushers you out, along with a slight breeze from within the house. With some time for yourself, you decide to get some chores done. You head downstairs to the basement, ignoring the voices as they whisper of your arrival. The dryer has finished, and the door pops open by itself once your feet touch the basement floor, the clothes cascading into a basket already placed. "Since...it is Halloween--" "--can we help?" "I can scare--!" The voices offer their assistance, clamoring on top of each other with a better offer than the previous one. It's clear they want to help, but you know better than to let that happen. They don't have a way of leaving the basement anyway. <ul> <li>[['"Sorry guys, but I cannot let you."'|pg10gentle]]</li> <li>[['"How could you guys help? You could not leave the basement anyway."'|pg10harsh]]</li> </ul>

They sigh, "If you say so..." They continue to complain even after you head up to the main floor, much like a child would if their parents denied them sweets. Once you're done disposing of the basket in the living room, you think of the objectives for the day. Breakfast should be ready soon, and once the kids wake up you'll be heading to the pumpkin patch and "haunted mansion". That should not take too long--once you head back it will be around time to start trick-or-treating. Your children will want to go out, and perhaps the ghost children will too. You feel like you're missing something else. It takes you a moment to connect the missing dots. Oh, right! You got it: the decorations! You have yet to check on them, and to make sure that everything is set up. Typically you don't like having them inside, as your house is already dusted with cobwebs and enough Victorian memorabilia to last you a lifetime's supply. But outside is where you are allowed to go all-out, and this year is no exception. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Mr. Arach and the others made sure of this." "pg11">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[Mr. Arach and the others made sure of this.|pg11]]*/

The voices giggle, "We have our ways. But if you say so..." The words echo in your ear, even after you leave the basement with your clothes. Cryptic, but unsurprising. Once you're done disposing of the basket in the living room, you think of the objectives for the day. Breakfast should be ready soon, and once the kids wake up you'll be heading to the pumpkin patch and "haunted mansion". That should not take too long--once you head back it will be around time to start trick-or-treating. Your children will want to go out, and perhaps the ghost children will too. You feel like you're missing something else. It takes you a moment to connect the missing dots. Oh, right! You got it: the decorations! You have yet to check on them, and to make sure that everything is set up. Typically you don't like having them inside, as your house is already dusted with cobwebs and enough Victorian memorabilia to last you a lifetime's supply. But outside is where you are allowed to go all-out, and this year is no exception. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Mr. Arach and the others made sure of this." "pg11">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[Mr. Arach and the others made sure of this.|pg11]]*/

A cool autumn wind brushes past you when you open the front door, forming goosebumps where the wind tickles your skin. You take a small step outside, glancing around with wide eyes as you examine the scene in front of you. The door closes by itself once you have stepped out onto your porch. Mr. Arach is talking with a group of spiders, most younger than him. He sounds like he is lecturing them on where to put the cobweb and how the pattern should look, demonstrating with his hands. Nearby you see a group of cotton witches holding hands as they stand in front of a cauldron. You can barely make out the outline of some ghosts as they set up glowing pumpkins and fake skeletons across your lawn. At least, you //hope// those are fake skeletons. One gets close to you, leaving five pumpkins of various sizes near the door. She glances at you, and once she realizes that you are looking back she squeaks and quickly disposes of the decorations in favor of running away. You help one of the pumpkins that have fallen over, placing it by your door. "Thanks." Your heart slams into your chest as you jump backwards, and you would have screamed if you hadn't slapped a hand over your mouth. Carefully, //slowly//, you pull it away. "You can talk?" It scoffs, carved smile twisting into a frown. "Yeah, of course I can talk. Why wouldn't you think that?" "Uh--" //For so many reasons.// You are about to answer them, but Mr. Arach calls your name just in time. <ul> <li>[[Morticia|pg12][$name to "Morticia"]]</li> <li>[[Gomez|pg12][$name to "Gomez"]]</li> <li>[[Lacrimosa|pg12][$name to "Lacrimosa"]]</li> <li>[[Michael|pg12][$name to "Michael"]]</li> <li>[[Agatha|pg12][$name to "Agatha"]]</li> <li>[[Jason|pg12][$name to "Jason"]]</li> <li>[[Charlie|pg12][$name to "Charlie"]]</li> <li>[[Wait, none of these are my names!|mcname]]</li> </ul>

"$name!" Mr. Arach is waving you over with a hairy leg. You look over at the pumpkin, and decide to leave it alone for now, heading to where Mr. Arach stands. All of his eight eyes are focused on you as you glance at his creation; thick threads of spider silk are strung from the roof to the grass. "Well?" His voice shakes you out of your daze. "What do you think? Do you think it looks convincing enough?" <ul> <li>[['"It is definitely...real."'|pg13real]]</li> <li>[['"This is amazing!" It truly is, to be honest.'|pg13amazing]]</li> <li>[[You have no words. You don't know what to feel.|pg13speechless]]</li> </ul>

What is your name? <<textbox "$name" "Name">> [[Next.|pg12]]

"It is definitely...real." Mr. Arach's mandibles twitch. "It //is// most definitely, 100% pure spider silk. Consider yourself lucky that you have a bunch of us living in the same house as you." He looks up at you, which is quite a feat considering you are much taller than him. "Do you not like it?" "No, it's not that, but it looks so realistic because...you know, it //is//." "I suppose you are right," he muses. "So what happened last night?" Here we go. You knew this was going to happen--you expected it, even. But regardless you are caught off-guard by the question. "You know what happened?" "Charlie told me. Said he noticed you were having a nightmare and opened the window for you," Mr. Arach scales up the web, testing its strength. "I assume you were eventually going to tell me about it, right?" "I was, but you seemed busy at the time, so I decided not to bother you." "Hm," he springs on the web before leaping down. "Well, I'm not very busy. Go ahead and describe it for me right now. I think Chef is about done with breakfast." Now prompted by him... <div class='button-fun'><<button "You tell him everything about the dream." "pg14">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[You tell him everything about the dream.|pg14]]*/

"This is amazing!" Mr. Arach's mandibles twitch. If spiders could smile, you would bet all of your money he has a big one. "I agree. The spiderlings did really well on the web." You hum, wanting to go over and taste its durability, but you would likely get stuck in it. He breaks the silence soon. "So what happened last night?" Here we go. You knew this was going to happen--you expected it, even. But regardless you are caught off-guard by the question. "You know what happened?" "Charlie told me. Said he noticed you were having a nightmare and opened the window for you," Mr. Arach scales up the web, testing its strength. It seems he was able to read your mind, or he was thinking the same thing you were. "I assume you were eventually going to tell me about it, right?" "I was, but you seemed busy at the time, so I decided not to bother you." "Hm," he springs on the web before leaping down. "Well, I'm not very busy. Go ahead and describe it for me right now. I think Chef is about done with breakfast." Now prompted by him... <div class='button-fun'><<button "You tell him everything about the dream." "pg14">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[You tell him everything about the dream.|pg14]]*/

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, and you cannot find the words to describe your feelings. Mr. Arach takes it as an immediate dislike and is quick to ask you, "Do you not like it?" "Uh...no, it's not...that." His mandibles twitch with anxiety. "What is it then? Do you think we're selling this too hard?" "No, it's just that I've never...seen anything like this before." You try to remember the past Halloweens you spent walking down the streets with your kids. You cannot remember a single house with webs coming down from the ceiling. When you look at your neighboring houses, you do not see them either. "Oh, well, they are quite common across the country," Mr. Arach replies. "So don't worry about seeming out-of-place. I can assure you that I have seen it before." Well...he does have the experience. You don't think you know how old he is, anyways. "Yeah, alright." "Perfect! Now, moving on to the next subject." The look he gives you is enough to freeze you in your spot like a fly stuck in a web. "So what happened last night?" Here we go. You knew this was going to happen--you expected it, even. But regardless you are caught off-guard by the question and wince. "You know what happened?" "Charlie told me. Said he noticed you were having a nightmare and opened the window for you," Mr. Arach scales up the web, testing its strength. "I assume you were eventually going to tell me about it, right?" "I was, but you seemed busy at the time, so I decided not to bother you." "Hm," he springs on the web before leaping down. "Well, I'm not very busy. Go ahead and describe it for me right now. I think Chef is about done with breakfast." Now prompted by him... <div class='button-fun'><<button "You tell him everything about the dream." "pg14">><</button>></div> /*!!!![[You tell him everything about the dream.|pg14]]*/

He is quiet until you are finished. Even after, he doesn't speak. "Mr. Arach?" He sighs, "I don't know what it means, $name. From the looks of it, it seems that you are going to have an eventful Halloween this year." Well. That doesn't sound ominous at all. You have to keep yourself from pacing across the lawn, lest you want to trip over the plastic tombstones planted in the ground. You swallow, moistening your dry throat so you can ask, "Is that a good or bad thing?" "I dunno, kid." You are about to comment on his choice of words, but right as you open your mouth, Wendy's voice echoes from inside the house, amplified by some of the pumpkins who mimic her voice. "Breakfast is ready!" Mr. Arach looks up at you. "It seems it is time to eat. You should get going. I'll be out here working for a while--I don't have to eat yet." It is hard to refute his statement; you are feeling hungry so you have to eat soon or else you may pass out. So you nod and walk back up the porch, ignoring the pumpkin you had previously helped. Before you head in, the spider calls your name. "And $name? Be careful when you head out later today," his voice is laced with concern and an edge that is unusual to him. His tone is one of finality--one you cannot argue against. It is the last thing you hear before you head inside. The door closes behind you and you are left standing inside your house again. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You hear the familiar sounds before you see their faces." "pg15">><</button>></div> /*[[pg15]]*/

To be precise, you hear the creaking floorboards above your head before the voices. The noise of running feet make it sound like there are multiple people upstairs, and there might as well be judging from the ruckus. The enthusiastic chatter grows louder as the feet approach the beginning of the stairs, and this is when you see them. //Your kids.// A warm smile develops as you watch them appear from the top of the stairs, bickering about a petty matter. Charlie is floating behind them, and there is a fond smile that matches yours. Ever since you moved to 13 Hallows Lane, Charlie has been close friends with your children, willing to play with them at their whim. Your son is the first to notice you. As the younger of the two, he is quick to bound down the stairs and collide into your arms. His head barely comes up to your chest, and his arms are not long enough to reach around your waist. Regardless, you squeeze his small body. Your son's name is... <ul> <li>[[Pugsley|pg16][$sname to "Pugsley"]]</li> <li>[[Casper|pg16][$sname to "Casper"]]</li> <li>[[Austin|pg16][$sname to "Austin"]]</li> <li>[[Jack|pg16][$sname to "Jack"]]</li> <li>[[Choose his name|sonname]]</li> </ul>

"$sname, did you have a good night's sleep?" you ask, your fingers coming up to gently brush his hair. He hums against your touch, face burying into your clothes. You are unable to get a verbal answer, as his sibling soon follows him, descending down the stairs with a quickness unmatched by Charlie's. His sister. Your daughter. She moves around $sname, joining in the family hug formed near the front of the house. Your arms adjust to embrace the both of them, and for a moment the world is still. Your daughter's name is... <ul> <li>[[Wednesday|pg17][$dname to "Wednesday"]]</li> <li>[[Coraline|pg17][$dname to "Coraline"]]</li> <li>[[Autumn|pg17][$dname to "Autumn"]]</li> <li>[[Sally|pg17][$dname to "Sally"]]</li> <li>[[Choose his name|daughtername]]</li> </ul>

You are brought back to the moment you saw him for the first time. You had already known what his name was, the feeling of contentment as you said it out loud in front of him for the first time. His name is circled in the center of your mind, clearing up the fog in your brain as it comes into full view. <<textbox "$sname" "Son Name">> [[Next|pg16]]

You hug $dname and $sname for as long as you can. As long as they allow you to. Eventually, they pull away at the same time, looking at you with eager eyes. With their similar heights, it is no wonder that many assumed they were twins. $dname is a year older than $sname, which has done nothing to cease their sibling rivalry nor the ways she has taken advantage of it. Despite this, there is one thing they have in common. The fact that they call you... <ul> <li>[[Papa|pg18][$parent to "Papa"]]</li> <li>[[Dad|pg18][$parent to "Dad"]]</li> <li>[[Daddy|pg18][$parent to "Daddy"]]</li> <li>[[Mama|pg18][$parent to "Mama"]]</li> <li>[[Mom|pg18][$parent to "Mom"]]</li> <li>[[Mommy|pg18][$parent to "Mommy"]]</li> <li>[[Ren|pg18][$parent to "Ren"]]</li> <li>[[Nini|pg18][$parent to "Nini"]]</li> <li>[[Baba|pg18][$parent to "Baba"]]</li> <li>[[Write it out.|parentname]]</li> </ul>

You remember when you saw her for the first time. She was the first one, before $sname. At the time, you had been terrified of becoming a parent, but deep down you were so excited to officially become one. You knew what her name was. Your brain clears as you remember it right now, as she has her arms around your hip. <<textbox "$dname" "Daughter Name">> [[Next|pg17]]

"Morning, $parent," says your daughter, sending a smug smile $sname's direction. He huffs and complains about how she beat him to it, saying that he was going to say it before she did. You sigh, "Please, you two. It's Halloween. You shouldn't be fighting." "I'll be fighting $dname for all of her candy after we go trick or treating," he huffs, leaning against your side. "You wouldn't dare!" "Oh, yes I would!" "No you wouldn't." "Try me--" "Uhm," Charlie interrupts their fighting and nearly collides into the wall when the two of them shoot him identical glares. "I think we should stop arguing and eat breakfast." "Yes, I agree!" You give him a gracious look before turning to your children. "Come on kids, we should eat first before heading out." It takes some ushering, but soon you are able to get them moving. One parenting point for you! "Where are we going again, $parent?" $sname asks as you begin walking. Though he is ahead he glances back at you, waiting for a response. "The pumpkin patch and the haunted house," $dname replies for you. "Though the haunted house can't actually be haunted." $sname's eyes narrow. "I wasn't asking you." $dname's cheeks puff out like a balloon, and you have to keep yourself from laughing at the red on her face. <div class='button-fun'><<button "At least you are saved once you make it to the dining room." "pg19">><</button>></div> /*[[pg19]]*/

Like most children, it took a while for your kids to call you their parent. But soon they were able to say it, and now it's a reflex. <<textbox "$parent" "Parent Name">> [[Next|pg18]]

Breakfast is a messy, chaotic, and loud time to be awake at. It is also amusing if you have the right people gathered around at the same time. Today happens to be one of those days, as just about everyone is gathered around besides Mr. Arach and the voices in the basement. There is excitement passing through the air as Skelly and Wendy bring out the breakfast items, and your mouth waters at the plentiful sight. Everyone is quick to grab their plates. The ghosts can materialize for a brief moment to take specialized food for themselves, and various animals skitter across the long table to snatch some helpings.You and your children dig into your respective foods and it is quiet save for the sounds of eating food. Frankenstein, who you all refer to as Frank, soon gets up to deliver food to the vampires in their chambers. As he leaves the teasing increases and rises even after Frank is gone. Various conversations are made, and as you watch an exchange between your kids and some of the ghost children you are reminded of where you are. //This is your home.// This is where you belong--where you are meant to be. There is a sense of belonging you feel as you sit among Halloween myths and legends, and getting to know they are //real// and //exist// and //care// for you is surreal. Yet, too soon, breakfast comes to a close as most head off. You have to get your kids dressed out of their pajamas into something more...fitting for the day. <div class='button-fun'><<button "It's costume time." "pg20">><</button>></div> /*[[pg20]]*/

$sname and $dname have been planning their costumes for months now, and a few weeks ago you bought them their respective outfits. Your son would be going as a pirate, and your daughter has a princess outfit laid out on her bed. You tried to get them to match, but both refused to wear the same outfit as the other. You'll have to try again next year. Getting them changed is no easy task. You are at their beck and call, hurrying to help one while the other child is complaining. $dname needs help with zipping up the back of her dress. $sname cannot find his fake sword in his room. $dname wants you to fix her hair. $sname is walking around with an unbuttoned shirt, not knowing how to button it. They go back and forth with their problems, and it takes a while before they are ready. Charlie comes in to check on them, and marvels at how they look. He could probably get something to wear, but he appears content with what he has. Though you are only heading to the haunted mansion, it wouldn't hurt to get dressed up. That is, if you even //want// to wear the thing hanging in your closet. <div class='button-fun'><<button "That thing being a banana costume." "pg21">><</button>></div> /*[[pg21]]*/

Yep. //A banana.// A banana had nothing to do with their costumes besides sticking out like a sore thumb--though maybe that was what your kids were aiming for when they picked it out for you. To be honest, your head is hurting from trying to remember exactly //why// you listened to them. Did they pressure you? They must have tricked or hypnotized you at the checkout. ...Yeah, that must be it. The question now lies in your hands with only two options. On one hand, you can wear it. Sure, you will probably get the brunt of teasing and criticism, but your kids would be excited if you wear it. Or laugh. But they would be happy. And that's the most important thing as a parent, isn't it? On the other hand, you can choose not to. You can put on when you go trick-or-treating with $sname and $dname. That is, if you decide to go. You won't be made fun of, but your kids would be disappointed. But you could wear it later and they will forgive you. Maybe. So what will you do? <ul> <li>[[You wear the costume.|pg22costume][$costume to true]]</li> <li>[[You don't wear the costume.|pg22none][$costume to false]]</li> </ul>

You leave your kids alone with some of the ghosts, now with a goal in your mind. You make a beeline to your closet, not hesitating for a moment to throw the doors open. And there it is, in all of its glory. The banana suit. //You are going to regret this.// You know it. As you don the suit, you realize just how baggy it is. The lower half sags down and you have to wear black clothes inside so that you won't be cold. The yellow on the suit is the same color as your bedroom walls. It looks like something you could buy from a really cheap Halloween store. Which is exactly where you bought it. You take a deep breath before you leave your room, muttering a prayer. You are going to need it when you get $sname and $dname's reactions. The children are no longer in their rooms, and when you head downstairs you find them parrying with each other using plastic swords in the living room. $sname is momentarily distracted by you--or, well, your costume--and is hit in the shoulder by the blade. He does not look phased by the injury; instead, he starts laughing. It surprises everyone in the room, yourself included, and $dname also realizes just what you are wearing. "You're actually wearing it?" Delight splits her face with a bright smile. "I can't believe it!" "Well, I figured..." You trail off as she comes over to run her hand over the fabric. As she does, she leans against you, giggling. "I think it fits you, $parent." $sname is laughing, and a couple of ghosts are snickering too. You ignore them and stroke your daughter's head, brushing over her crooked crown. You adjust it, making sure it is perfectly balanced among the rest of her hair. "Thanks, princess," and then, to the both of them, "We should get going. Drop your swords and let's get moving!" The kids groan, but they follow after you anyway. The ghosts run off, though not without a few good lucks. You think some are meant for you judging from the winks. $sname still has the giggles as you head to the foyer. By the time he has calmed down you are halfway out the door and $dname calls first shots on the radio music choice. He pauses, eyes wide when he hears his sister shout out first for control of the music. "Hey! You can't do that!" He rushes out the door, screaming complaints about the call. Somewhere, a dull throb rings in your head from the loud volume. You fight it off as you shut the door behind you, the lock closing itself. The red leaves are falling from the sky as you walk out. The sun is beginning to peek out among the clouds. Mr. Arach waves at you as you pass by, and you nod in return, a smile growing as you look at your car. It's a beautiful day, and for a moment you forget about the things Mr. Arach had said. But then the memory comes back to you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. From the looks of it, it seems like it's going to be an interesting day. <div class='button-fun'><<button "By the time you come back, it is almost time for Halloween to officially begin." "pg23">><</button>></div> /*[[pg23]]*/

You are only going to a haunted mansion--you do not think you need to get dressed up for such an occasion. There is no requirement for dressing up, anyways, so you are free to remain in your civilian clothes. When you show no sign of going to change, you see the moods on their face drop. Both have frowns, and their eyes shine of distinct disappointment. However, you are determined to cheer them up (and distract them from your lack of a costume), so you say, "I bet I could beat you in a swordfight." They take the bait. $sname's eyes light up with a startling amount of determination. "No you can't! I'm the greatest pirate ever!" He holds up his sword, as if it will prove his point. $dname snorts, "No you're not. I am!" "You're a princess!" "Princesses can be pirates too!" She looks around their shared room, and something occurs to her as she runs off. $sname gives chases, and you have no choice but to follow them. //Was this a bad idea//, you wonder to yourself. There's only one way to find out. Noises of clanking swords against swords echo from the living room. It would seem out of context had you not known what was going on. $dname has obtained a dulled sword from who-knows-where, and she is engaged in combat with $sname. Both of her hands are gripped on the hilt, but she does not take much effort to lift it up. You watch them spar, torn between letting them continue and intervening. A few ghosts join in on the fight, weapons forming out of thin air, and it is then when you interrupt. "Alright, alright, I think that's enough." You have to duck as a sword slashes the air where your head would have been. "You've both made your point. We should get going--drop your swords and let's get moving!" They are reluctant to let go, but under your authority they are compelled to, so they follow you to the front door. The ghosts run off, finding no more interest in fighting now that $dname and $sname have stopped. As soon as you open the door, $dname is quick to call the shots on becoming the DJ for today. The boy left in the dust is taken by surprise, and $sname shouts complaints. "Hey! You can't do that!" You have to give him credit when he runs after his sister. It's futile to try and outrun her, but you admire the attempt. Somewhere, a dull throb rings in your temple. You fight it off as you shut the door behind you, the lock closing itself. You can't afford feeling sick--not on a day like today. The red leaves are falling from the sky as you walk out. The sun is beginning to peek out among the clouds. Mr. Arach waves at you as you pass by, and you nod in return, a smile growing as you look at your car. It's a beautiful day, and for a moment you forget about the things Mr. Arach had said. But then the memory comes back to you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. From the looks of it, it seems like it's going to be an interesting day. <div class='button-fun'><<button "By the time you come back, it is almost time for Halloween to officially begin." "pg23">><</button>></div> /*[[pg23]]*/

<<set $costume to false>>

The sun is high up in the sky, the clouds separating to allow it to shine. You had spent hours at the pumpkin patch and mansion, and along the way you managed to carve out some pumpkins for $sname and $dname. As your children get out of the car, they carry their crooked pumpkins made with love inside the house, speaking with excitement to the walls and monsters. Mr. Arach is not outside when you open your car door, but more decorations have been added since. There is a huge statue of Frankenstein--you won't question how it got there--and pumpkins crowd the stairs and porch. Life-sized tombstones stick up from the ground, and when you get closer you realize some of them have John and Jane Doe written on them. There is a hand stretching beyond the ground near one of the tombs. You have to force yourself to turn away. //Maybe// Mr. Arach went overboard with decorating, but you don't want to argue against it since it looks awesome in retrospect. Inside the house is chaos. You can hear voices coming from every part of the house--there are ghosts fretting about the state of the house, the voices from the basement are coming up with ways to scare candy grabbers, and children's laughter echo from the hallways. $sname and $dname have since left to gods-knows-where, and frankly you can't bring yourself to think about what they may be doing. In the dining room, which has since been cleared of breakfast, the tables are piled with layers of multi-branded candy. You have enough to cover the entire block and town entirely. You take a handful and dump them into a candy bowl, scooping until there is a good amount inside it. At least two needs to be handed out to every kid that stops by so that the candy on the table will lessen. You are deciding which candy to take--candy corn or chocolate bars--when the doorbell rings. For a moment, everything goes quiet. The ghosts stop speaking of their worries. The voices, for once, are silent at the sound. The laughter comes to an end as soon as the bell goes off like an alarm. It alerts you of the present. Then, everything goes back into motion, but this time everyone is freaking out. $sname slides into the room with the candy-packed table, grabbing a pack of gummy bears as he shouts, "There's trick-or-treaters at the door!" His statement snaps you out of whatever spell you were under. There's people at the door. //Your first trick-or-treaters.// <div class='button-fun'><<button "You grip the basket tighter and hurry to greet the first people at your door." "pg24">><</button>></div> /*[[pg24]]*/

Four kids dressed in different costumes stand on your front porch. There is no adult in sight. The one dressed as a pirate is the tallest and appears to be the leader. His arms are folded in front of him as he reaches out to ring the doorbell again. Beside you, $sname scoffs at the sight. "He stole my outfit! How dare he?" You chuckle, moving away from the window to open the front door. "You are a better pirate, $sname, don't worry." As expected, the boy beams when you say this, and it never truly goes away even when you open the door. You pause for a moment, waiting to see if any smoke effects go off when you do. But nothing happens. It is like the house is watching with bated breath, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But it is not now. Not at the moment. The four kids hold out their bags and pillowcases, saying in unison, "Trick or treat!" as if they had planned on what to say before you answered the door. The pirate boy looks around you, and his eyes narrow for a brief moment before it shifts away as if he had never looked. You don't need to turn around to know that $sname is making a face. Instead you smile and hold out the basket to them. "Feel free to take at least two," you say, watching their eyes go wide as hands shuffle through the various sweets available. One of the shorter kids, dressed in a police uniform, takes more than three. They pull back once satisfied, and they look ready to leave when you see Frankenstein //the statue// take a step forward. His shuffle is muffled by the thank-yous the children give you before moving on to the next house. You shut the door, leaning your entire back against the wooden entrance as you look around the house. "What happened there? I thought you guys had things planned." Charlie appears before your eyes next to $sname. "We didn't want to scare away the first people to come." "He's got a point," murmurs a voice from somewhere within the house. "I wasn't prepared--" "Oh, wait, what was the signal again...?" "Again with the signal!" Voices are offering their excuses as you try to make sense of what just happened. "He gave me the eye," your son grumbles, fist tightening on the sword in his hand. "When he saw me, he knew and I just..." He makes a vague gesture with his sword, trying to prove an unspoken point. <div class='button-fun'><<button "The doorbell rings again." "pg25">><</button>></div> /*[[pg25]]*/

For the next half hour you spend it handing candy to Halloween goers, until there is a break in the flow of kids. The residents of your house have not begun with their pranks--not yet. One group saw one of the ghosts flicker in and out of existence, but they were not surprised by it. Instead they said it was a cool effect and left. In the background, $sname and $dname have been preparing to leave and grab some candy for themselves. As soon as you close the door, they crowd at the door along with some of the ghosts, asking to head out. "It's almost sunset, $parent," $dname whines, "$sname and I want to go and get as much stuff as we can!" You frown. "Why are the ghosts going with you?" You meet Charlie's eyes, who is among those ghosts and has a basket of his own. He shrinks away, but offers a response. "Because we want to go too." One of the young ghosts, a girl with a blue cape, adds on, "I haven't gone trick-or-treating ever since..." Even though she does not finish the sentence, all of the ghosts know what she was going to say. Your kids know. //You// know. "You know you can't eat it, right? Plus, there's a high chance you will be noticed by other people since we can see you." "Oh! We can disappear!" At Charlie's words, the ghosts disappear before your eyes, until all you can hear is their voice. You know they are still there as a nearby table rattles when one bumps into it. You had planned to join $dname and $sname as they went trick-or-treating. That was how it was every year, before you moved to your current house. So that begs the question: are you still going to go with them? You can stay at your house to assist the pranks. And watch over those pranksters to make sure they don't burn down the house while you are gone. However, that would mean you'd have to let your kids go by themselves. You have never let them head out by themselves, but they have the ghosts with them. Would you be a bad parent if you didn't go? <ul> <li>[[You decide to go with your kids and leave the scaring to the inhabitants of 13 Hallows Lane.|pg26trickortreat]]</li> <li>[[You decide to stay at home and create some trouble, leaving your kids with the ghosts joining them.|pg26stayhome]]</li> </ul>

<<if $costume is false>>"Are you going to wear that or the banana costume?" $dname asks as you give the bowl to one of the larger rats. You murmur your thanks and command to fill up the candy bowl again before standing up. It scurries away with the task. Right. You are still wearing your clothes. You still have to decide whether or not you are going to get changed into that banana costume. <ul> <li>[[Why not, let's do this.|pg26.5yes][$costume to true]]</li> <li>[[No, you think you prefer staying in your clothes.|pg26.5no]]</li> </ul><<else>>You run your hand over your crinkled costume, making sure that everyone can tell it is a banana. You are surprised that nobody has bothered to comment on your appearance, though they likely didn't want to say anything out of mercy. You give the bowl to one of the larger rats. You murmur your thanks and command to fill up the candy bowl again before standing up. It scurries away with the task. "So, should we get going?" you turn to look at $dname, $sname, and the other ghost children coming along for the trip. Everyone smiles, genuine and bright. <div class='button-fun'><<button "That's the only answer you need join the festivities that come with Halloween." "pg27trickortreat">><</button>></div> /*[[pg27trickortreat]]*/<<endif>>

You feel weird allowing your children to go trick-or-treating by themselves, but you have to remind yourself that they are not going alone. Although they will be invisible to outsiders, the ghosts can look out for $sname and $dname when they go out. Having witnessed first-hand the kindness of the ghosts at 13 Hallows Lane, you know that they will be taken care of. One of the older ghosts, Victor, promises to protect the two from any harm. The other ghosts do, too, but you don't really believe them. Most are bouncing off the walls--literally. "You have to promise to be back before seven," you say, "and I mean nighttime, not the morning. I don't want to find your spirits dancing over your dead bodies, got it? Don't get too much sweets, and //please//, for the love of God--" "Don't tell anyone about the ghosts," they finish, $sname looking around you to see if there is a way to slip out. You move in the way of his vision, and he stares directly through you as if you aren't standing there. You clear your throat, your thoughts coming back to you. "Good. And you know what happens if someone approaches you or if you feel something is off, right?" "We come back," $dname instantly replies, her hand bunching up the skirt of her dress. "We already know this, $parent. We will take care of ourselves, and the ghosts will too. Won't you guys?" Her question prompts a unanimous answer from the otherworldly spirits: yes. "Just making sure." With that, you step out of the way, opening a new door for them as they each take turns stepping out of their comfort zone. $sname gives you a brief hug before your daughter smiles. "Thanks, $parent." "For what?" "I..." she shrugs, fidgeting. "I don't know...for taking care of us? We love you--$sname and I. Even if he doesn't say it." Somewhere in the distance, a certain boy screams, "I love you $parent!" At this $dname allows herself to cackle. You chuckle. "You don't need to thank me for that. I love you guys too." You bring the girl to your chest; even though she cannot reach your height, $dname makes up for it with her maturity. She joins the others waiting outside, and with a final wave of goodbye, they head to the left side of your house. With them gone, the house feels like an empty void. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You stand there, numb." "pg27stayhome">><</button>></div> /*[[pg27stayhome]]*/

You sigh, knowing you have to wear it for the sake of the children. "Alright, fine. Give me a few minutes." You ignore the cheering of your kids and the chuckling of others while you head upstairs. You swear you hear Mr. Arach in the latter category. //Where did he go?// You make a beeline to your closet, not hesitating for a moment to throw the doors open. And there it is, in all of its glory. The banana suit. //You are going to regret this.// You know it. As you don the suit, you realize just how baggy it is. The lower half sags down and you have to wear black clothes inside so that you won't be cold. The yellow on the suit is the same color as your bedroom walls. It looks like something you could buy from a really cheap Halloween store. Which is exactly where you bought it. You take a deep breath before you leave your room. Best not to keep them waiting. The reception of the costume is met with overwhelming positivity. You consider it such even though most are making fun of it. $dname is oddly supportive of it, providing you with a brief side hug while $sname is howling with laughter. You suppose their reactions should be the only thing you care about. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Well. It's time to venture beyond your house." "pg27trickortreat">><</button>></div> /*[[pg27trickortreat]]*/

"I'm good." Everyone looks at you with varying degrees of disapproval and disappointment. You have your reasons for not wanting to wear the costume. You only bought it to appease $sname and $dname; that did not mean you were going to wear it. Before any of them can say something about your choice, you head to the door. "It would take too much time to change. We have to get going so we can get the most before it gets dark outside, right?" This considerably brightens their mood. A wave of kids pass by you, forgetting about your refusal to wear the banana costume. The look $sname gives you as he passes by tells you that he isn't going to forget about it anytime soon. <div class='button-fun'><<button "There is no reason to think about it anymore; all that matters is collecting as much goods as possible." "pg27trickortreat">><</button>></div> /*[[pg27trickortreat]]*/

Everyone runs ahead of you, already discussing their plans to hit the houses with the best candy. $sname has been researching for weeks about places to go to for Halloween from his friends, and $dname is the one leading everyone as they make their way down the block. From a distance, you enjoy watching them as your son leans towards Charlie, whispering about their strategy. You cannot hear them, but their mischievous smiles say that it may become a problem. <<if $costume is true>>Wearing a banana costume, as expected, draws unwanted attention to you and the kids. As you observe $sname snatch more than the allowed amount according to the paper sign, someone says, "Nice costume," behind you. Although, when you turn around to look they are gone. It was strange, but you brushed it off as an incident that happened. <<else>>Though there is something off as you watch over them. For example, you had been watching $sname take more than the allowed amount from a candy bowl when you felt something brush by your neck. It was enough to send a shiver down your neck, but it was colder than the wind. Maybe it was a ghost playing tricks with you...yes, that must be it.<<endif>> At some point, you lose count of the houses you have visited. You venture further away from home, until you finally arrive at the corner house. The others go to grab their fill and you stand behind the fence, making sure they are okay. <div class='button-fun'><<button "That's when you feel it." "pg28trickortreat">><</button>></div> /*[[pg28trickortreat]]*/

"Are you alright?" You do not realize you are staring at the closed door until Mr. Arach's voice pulls you out of whatever haze your thoughts were engulfed in. Although you cannot read a spider's expression, Mr. Arach sounds concerned. You have to remember why exactly you zoned out, but you can't. So instead, you smile. "Yeah, I'm alright." Dread clouds your mind and fear grips your heart, but you move along with time. There is candy to be given out, and plans to be made. <div class='button-fun'><<button "The show must go on." "pg28stayhome">><</button>></div> /*[[pg28stayhome]]*/

Eventually, giving out candy feels as natural as breathing air. You are surprised by the sudden influx of trick-or-treaters, though you should not be since you live on a fairly busy road. On top of that, having the title of 13 Hallows Lane means you own the crown as the mysterious house on the block. It is fitting considering what you personally know. The house is determined to live up to that expectation. One of the ghosts took up the liberty of holding the candy bowl as the front door was opened, and the illusion of a floating bowl spooked many of the trick-or-treaters. The parental side of you felt bad seeing the younger children shriek with terror, watching as they ran back to their parents who stood at the edge of your driveway. In those cases you would take the bowl and chase after them, offering the candy yourself as compensation. Needless to say, your tricks were not limited to floating bowls. Skelly comes up with the idea of juggling foam balls on the front porch. He has a knack for juggling, for whatever reason, so you allowed him to do so for an hour. Skelly has endurance, and you suppose he didn't feel much pain as he did so since he was a skeleton. He remained rigid, so from an outsider's perspective Skelly was just a mechanical skeleton juggling. Some were mesmerized by the sight and others ignored him; he eventually stopped as he felt the urge to cook once more. And you wonder why the ingredients keep running out. Sometimes the jack-o-lanterns assist in the scarefest, announcing, "Happy Halloween!" periodically when there was more than one person on the front porch. They would pipe up at random times, and it'd be so out of the blue that even you jumped at their voices. At some point, one of the ghosts decided to have their fun and possessed the giant Frankenstein statue. There was no room to move around, but the sight of seeing it move its arms and say cryptic phrases was amusing. Even Frank laughed when he saw it--a low, deep grumble that shook the plates on the shelves and foundation of the house. You kept your kids among your thoughts, but you were enjoying yourself at home. It was nice; giving out candy and watching the others act out in the spirit of Halloween. <div class='button-fun'><<button "One memorable moment involved ghostbusters." "pg29stayhome">><</button>></div> /*[[pg29stayhome]]*/

The thin hairs on the back of your neck stand up, sensing someone's gaze on you. Call it intuition, a sixth sense, a feeling, whatever. And instead of listening to your rational thoughts you turn around. The stranger does not bother to look away, although you are unsure if they are looking at you due to the clown mask they are wearing. The unnatural smile painted on their face is enough to give you nightmares for weeks. The red and black jumpsuit they wear is unlike the colorful costumes you are used to seeing typical clowns wear. //No,// this was a stark contrast. They stand across, on the other side of the road, but this does not stop them from staring. //God.// Why isn't it looking away? Goosebumps travel along your arms and legs, and you feel colder than before. The air may be cool, but staring at the clown gives you the shivers. Is it a statue? A part of you is hoping it is a statue. But the pit in your stomach deepens when you watch the hand move. You feel sick when you notice the weapon in their hands. It is a bat. But it is not just any regular baseball bat. Even from your distance, it is clear to you that there is some red on the barrel. The clown doesn't move towards you. You don't think you have any weapons to use. <<if $costume is true>>If only you had brought a banana with you. You wouldn't feel as naked if you had some semblance of a weapon, even if it didn't protect you at all.<</if>> You want to run. You want to hide away, in the safest nook in your house, and avoid the stare the clown was giving you. Yet, your feet remain planted on the ground despite your instincts screaming to get away. You have to do something-- $dname calls for you, asking for your opinion of what she should take. Surprised by the sudden question you look towards the group walking away from the ghost-infested lawn. You give her your response--the healthy options--but the clown is gone by the time you look back. They are not down the streets; it's as if they disappeared into thin air. As if it had never been there in the first place. Perhaps you had seen things. You have not been getting much sleep recently... The group moves on, you with them. And though you don't see them again... <div class='button-fun'><<button "...you can sense a gaze trained on the back of your head." "pg29trickortreat">><</button>></div> /*[[pg29trickortreat]]*/

One of the kids' final stops involves stopping by one of the biggest mansions in town. Today, it appears, the owners have decided to go all-out. Toilet paper adorns the trees and bushes like garlands. Inflatable characters are blown up to their full-size, looking down upon the tiny humans that pass by underneath it. Three tables are lined up before the steps, and there are several adults running the unofficial event. Children are coming from all over, rushing to take their fill of candy and lining up to spin a wheel to try and win a prize. In addition there is a raffle going on; if you guess the correct amount of candy corn in the jar you win a grand prize. The ghosts are free to roam around, preferring to observe rather than participate. $sname and $dname head off to take sweets, and it seems they are also giving out Halloween-themed desserts. You stand among the mingling parents, thinking about what you should do. You probably only have time to do one, so choose wisely. <ul> <li>[[Check in on your kids.|pg30totkids]]</li> <li>[[Try your hand at the wheel.|pg30totwheel]]</li> <li>[[Speak to one of the parents.|pg30totmingle]]</li> </ul>

Shortly after the children had left, your door was knocked on by a group of ghostbusters. You had looked out the window, Skelly and Wendy spotting the group over your shoulder. Mr. Arach, the other spiders, and most importantly the //ghosts// realize who exactly is standing on the porch. Each one was wearing a brown jumpsuit, the widely known logo of a ghost poking through a red sign. They are equipped with packs and a gun that comes attached to that very pack. They have their own pair of gloves and elbow pads--exactly like the movies. The ghosts murmured amongst themselves under angry breaths. At most, they sounded annoyed that people would come to your house dressed as those who banish ghosts. You answered the door and were greeted by a round of "trick or treat!" by them. They were too old to be kids; young adults at best. A smile stretched your lips as you held out the basket. You hoped it didn't look as strained as it felt. Your lips moved before you realized it, "So, ghostbusters, huh?" One smirked. "Yep. If you have any ghost problems, you know who to call." You nodded, excruciatingly slow. Can the ghosts hear this? Who were you kidding--of course they can. They are practically everywhere in every corner of your house. You would have been surprised if not one was listening in. "Oh. Okay." That was the only thing you could say. Right as they were about to leave, you were all surprised when that very pumpkin you had knocked over spoke up. "You must be a joke." Every single one turned, eyes wide. Yours were blown open. //Are you kidding me?// After spending so much time trying to protect your secrets...this happened. "What?" You don't remember who said it. But you remember how right after it was asked they had fallen to the ground. It was as if they had been tripped by something passing by. They collapsed onto your porch, shocked, candy spilling out of their bags. Two ghosts materialize before them--they were twins who had died roughly around the same time--and they high-five each other. Their proud smiles spoke for their actions. "Ghostbusters, huh?" the one on the right asked. "For people who are meant to get rid of ghosts, you are doing a poor job at it." The other snickered, "Where did they get their licenses from? The black market?" You wanted to strangle them. "Wh-what?" the one who had spoken looked at you, eyes fearful and expectant. "Is that real?" Before you could say anything, Mr. Arach came out. There were varying emotions from the trick-or-treaters, ranging from confusion to disgust. One of his frontal legs waves around as he speaks. "You won't say this to anyone else. //Obliviscaris recordationes ad infinitum.//" You had no idea what he said, but they promptly left with their bags, stumbling onto the sidewalk like drunkards. It would have been laughable had you not witnessed the incantation spoken before you. There is no one else nearby, somehow, so you are thankful for that small mercy. You turned your attention to the spider, who had been still ever since they left. "What was that?" "A spell," he replied, "they will forget that they ever saw ghosts, me, and what they had been doing for the past two hours." The twin ghosts had gone back inside by then, and you were still in the middle of the doorway. "They will be okay tomorrow morning." Thinking back to that moment, you had been upset that you were almost exposed for petty reasons. You smile now when you think about it. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Definitely a prank for the books." "pg30stayhome">><</button>></div> /*[[pg30stayhome]]*/

You have not had anyone come over in a while. You find it strange considering that you had received so many candy collectors in a short amount of time, but now you were at a standstill. So, you are lying on the couch talking about your plans for next week with Mr. Arach. To be precise, you are venting about said plans and the stress you have about it. "I have to drive the kids to and from school, pick them up if one doesn't feel well, and I also have my work to do. Like sometimes I may have to work double shifts because there aren't enough people and I end up leaving $sname and $dname with you guys. I'm not saying that you aren't good babysitters, but I just wish I could be the one there for them--" You are halfway through your spiel when the doorbell rings. Something is off about the tone, you realize, as it continues to ring in your ears despite being pressed only once. The vibrations bounce off the walls, amplifying the volume. You are unsure if it has always been like that or if it started now. The house is silent when the bell stops. Mr. Arach is oddly quiet, and doesn't say anything despite moving closer to the window. He jumps away after one glance, and you see that his legs are quivering. You begin to move towards it until he shakes his head. "Don't look out the window, $name." The stark hoarseness in his voice causes fear to twist in your stomach. "Why not?" you ask, trying a joke to lighten the mood. "I'm sure it can't be bad." His body freezes, and he is more adamant in his response. "Even if you look out the window, then I implore you not to open the door. You will understand what I mean." Seeing no other choice, you take a small glance out the window. And to be honest, nothing frightens you quite like seeing a //clown// on your front porch. The mask has an unnatural smile painted on it, stretching from ear to ear. Looking at it long enough was bound to give you nightmares for weeks. Their outfit is composed of a red and black jumpsuit, unlike the most colorful ones you have encountered in the past. If anything, you would think that it came from the underworld. They are staring at your door, eyes trained as if they are waiting for the moment you open the door to bash your head in. //Oh.// You have to lean closer to the window to get smaller details that otherwise you would not have seen from a distance. Whoever it is has their hair neatly tucked underneath the mask that covers their entire face. A part of you wonders how they are able to breathe in it. And then, because you are looking at the mask, you notice something strange. There is a red splatter on the right cheek of the mask. You have to suppress a shiver and move on to the rest of their clothing. As your eyes travel downwards, the item in their hand has your heart jumping up into your throat, stopping you from breathing for just a moment. It's a weapon. //A baseball bat.// The bat is gripped tightly in his left hand, swinging slightly. It is wooden, a solid brown color, but the red on the barrel stands out from the base color. It doesn't look to be metal. Otherwise it would hurt. Wait, what? Why are you thinking about that? Why would you think it would hurt you? Any weapon could knock the winds out of your lungs. Any weapon could render you unconscious. As your thoughts get jumbled up under pressure and confusion, the clown abruptly turns their head to the window you are looking out of. Their neck could have snapped from how quick it was. Even though the curtains are drawn with a small gap for you to look through, you meet their eye. You never backed away quicker than that moment. You don't realize you are shaking until Mr. Arach calls your name, softly. "$name, do not answer the door. I can sense malicious intent from the clown." "He's right," murmurs one of the ghosts. "Something is off about them. //Really// off." "Is this what you mean by having an eventful Halloween?" you ask, attempting a weak smile. It makes nobody laugh. In the end, the choice is up to you. Answer the door...or pretend that nobody is home. <ul> <li>[[Stay away from the door.|pg31shSTAYAWAY]]</li> <li>[[Stay away stay away stay away|pg31shSTAYAWAY]]</li> <li>[[STAY AWAY.|pg31shSTAYAWAY]]</li> <li>[[Answer the door.|pg31shNO]]</li> </ul>

$sname is talking to a boy his age, while $dname is enjoying the lollipop she has managed to snag from one of the candy bowls. You catch bits and pieces of $sname's conversation. "So, who are you trick-or-treating with?" the boy asks him. "I don't see your parents." "Oh, my $parent came with us. My sister and the--" you already know what is about to come out of his mouth, so you interrupt by calling out his name. Surprised by how harsh your tone is, the other boy says goodbye and walks away. //Quickly//, mind you. You practically march over to him, and when you do you pinch the corner of his ear. "Oww! $parent! That hurts!" "What did I say about telling others about them?" $sname understands even though you never directly mentioned the ghosts. His eyes widened. "I didn't mean to!" he replies, a bit too loud, attracting attention from other parents. "I'm sorry." $dname does not step in, too busy watching the festivities to notice. Your son's eyes are welling up, and a tear slips onto the grass below. You take him into your arms, giving him a hug as his shoulders shake. He mutters "sorry" on repeat, and your heart cracks a little as each word takes a toll on your guilt. Stroking his back allows him to eventually calm down within minutes. "Just be mindful next time, okay? You have to watch your words." He nods, eyes looking to the ground. "It's in the past. So, do you want to tell me what they have?" He nods again, before bringing you to the table with goods. Cupcakes, cookies, chocolates, hard candies, and more are strewn about like decorations. Frosting stains the table covering, and chocolate smears the wrappings left around. Organizers are frantically cleaning up as more children approach. "I already ate some cookies," he says, "and a cupcake." You sigh, "Those aren't good for you..." "But $parent, they taste really good!" his cheeks puff out, as if pouting will make you less harsh on him. "And it's Halloween!" It does not deter you. "That's exactly why they aren't good for you. And though I'll let you get away with this, you aren't going to get to eat all of your candy in one sitting." $sname complains about it for a while, and as he does so you take $dname with you. You think you have spent too much time at the house--it's time to head back as the sun begins to set below the horizon. That feeling of being watched also never went away, so you want to make it back home in one piece sooner than later. You give your kids the mission of rounding up the ghosts, and once everyone is gathered at the entrance of the house you make your way back home. <div class='button-fun'><<button "This time you walk a little faster." "pg31totpitstop">><</button>></div> /*[[pg31totpitstop]]*/

There is a line that you have to step up to, but it burns through quickly and it is soon your time to shine. You flex your hand, before reaching out to give the wheel a rough spin. It goes off, and as it slows down you realize it is about to land on 4. As it does exactly as you expected, the people running the wheel hands you a pencil, sticker, and a small bag of various candy. In addition, the girl hands you a slip of paper, saying that it reveals your fortune. You thank her, stepping out to unfold the paper. At first you had been eager, but once you read it your heart stops beating for a brief moment. //Watch your back.// Out of reflex, you turn around, but all you see is the next person spinning the wheel. The clown. You remember the clown and shiver. Never mind that--you slip everything into your pockets and look for your kids. You think you have spent too much time at the house; it's time to head back as the sun begins to set below the horizon. That feeling of being watched feels more prominent now as you find $sname and $dname. You give your kids the mission of rounding up the ghosts, and once everyone is gathered at the entrance of the house you make your way back home. <div class='button-fun'><<button "This time you walk a little faster." "pg31totpitstop">><</button>></div> /*[[pg31totpitstop]]*/

You look around, seeing if there are any parents standing around as awkward as you are. As you do, you make eye contact with a mother holding a two-year-old in her arms. She smiles and makes her way over. "Hi!" she attempts to hold out a hand to you. You take it up and shake it, smiling. She seems friendly. "I'm Sophie. It's nice to meet you!" "$name," you nod towards the toddler in her arms. "Who's that cutie?" "Oh!" she takes up the kid's hand, waving it. "This is Ollie, my kid. She's so cute." In response, the child buries her head into Sophie's neck, and you smile at the sight. $dname used to be like that--shy. You had to push her out of her shell since she was always hiding behind you. "Hi!" you wave at her, even if she doesn't see it. Sophie does and smiles anyway. "So where are your kids?" Now it's your time to shine. "My kids are over there." You gesture to $sname and $dname, who are hanging around, eating and watching. "$sname, my son, and $dname, my daughter." She hums, "They seem really sweet. I've never seen you before--did you move?" "How did you know?" "I come to this house every year for Halloween," she replies, smile turning awkward. "It's become a tradition of mine. I've been coming since I was a little girl." "You grew up here?" "Yeah!" "What was it like?" With that, you and Sophie fall into easy conversation. In that moment you are allowed to express your fears as a parent, which she can relate to as one herself. You can laugh, talk, gossip, and confide with her. It's something that you never really had after you became a parent. Mr. Arach may listen to your problems, but that's different. Sophie responds back about herself and you feel...happy about having someone to relate to. <<if $costume is true>>She even comments about the banana costume, saying that she liked the look of it.<</if>> It's safe to say you found a friend in Sophie. You are almost disappointed when $dname comes up to you, saying that she wants to go home. Before you part ways, Sophie gives you her number, reminding you that you can text her anytime, and that maybe you can hang out again. //Probably not at your house.// With that, you have your kids get the ghosts, and once everyone is gathered at the entrance of the house you make your way back home. That feeling of being watched feels more prominent when you turn around the corner where you had noticed the figure from earlier. <div class='button-fun'><<button "So this time you walk a little faster." "pg31totpitstop">><</button>></div> /*[[pg31totpitstop]]*/

You nod, determined. "Okay, then I won't. What should we do then?" Immediately, everyone starts whisper-shouting at once, offering their own ideas of what to do. Even the voices from the basement chime in. "Hide." One of the many ghosts. "In a corner." Another adds. "We should go to a safe space. Like the kitchen." Skelly answers. "You only say that because you would have access to food." Wendy hits her forehead, sighing deeply like a troubled mother. "Everyone, stop. We should just wait it out for now. It does not seem like they are going to break down the door for now. Plus, it is too dangerous to reveal ourselves in front of them." Out of the residents, you would have expected Mr. Arach to come up with a sound solution. Nobody is against the idea. The doorbell is pressed again. The ring is different. This time, it is the tune of Chopin's Funeral March. It echoes in every room, until it fades like a faint memory. //How is this happening? What is going on?// You have to suppress yourself from panicking, so you wait for a few moments before looking out the window again. The clown is gone. //They are gone.// You look up and down the street, but they are nowhere to be found. They are not on the porch or sides. Some of the ghosts hurry off, before returning to report that the clown is not in the backyard. They are no longer near your house anymore. They had left so quickly. It's almost as if...their appearance was a trick of light. You relax for a brief moment, until you remember the kids. $sname. $dname. The ghost children. They are still out. And that creepy clown...could be out there somewhere, wandering the streets, looking for their next victim. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Agitation catches your heart." "pg32shHURRY">><</button>></div> /*[[pg32shHURRY]]*/

Right as you are about to make your decision, a jolt of electricity runs through your veins. It is sudden and has you sweating. Your mind clouds up, and you forget what you are doing for a brief moment. //What were you doing again?// Everything goes blank. You aren't sure if you black out or slip into unconsciousness, but it leaves you and the room spinning. //What were you doing again?// In your delirious state, words slip out of your mouth before they register in your thoughts. They come out like a built instinct, involuntarily. "I won't answer the door then." As soon as the words are said, everything refocuses. You force yourself to remember what you were doing, and it takes a while to realize everyone is watching with concern. "Are you--" "I'm fine." At this point, the response is an instinct. Mr. Arach flinches, as well as some of the other ghosts. The others are silent. With the ruckus you have created, surely the person knows that someone is home. "What are we going to do?" "Wait it out. It is too dangerous to reveal ourselves in front of them." The doorbell is pressed again. The ring is different. This time, it is the tune of Chopin's Funeral March. It echoes in every room, until it fades like a faint memory. //How is this happening? What is going on?// You have to suppress yourself from panicking, so you wait for a few moments before looking out the window again. The clown is gone. //They are gone.// You look up and down the street, but they are nowhere to be found. They are not on the porch or sides. Some of the ghosts hurry off, before returning to report that the clown is not in the backyard. They are no longer near your house anymore. They had left so quickly. It's almost as if...their appearance was a trick of light. You relax for a brief moment, until you remember the kids. $sname. $dname. The ghost children. They are still out. And that creepy clown...could be out there somewhere, wandering the streets, looking for their next victim. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Agitation catches your heart." "pg32shHURRY">><</button>></div> /*[[pg32shHURRY]]*/

You are two houses away from your own when $sname gets distracted by a house with an assortment of decorations. As he runs over, the others follow with soft murmurs. Charlie slows down until he is walking at the same pace as you. "Are you okay?" he asks, fidgeting with the hem of his white shirt. He had not bothered to change into a Halloween costume, unlike most of the others. "Your face was pale when you saw that person across the street." You look at him, surprised. "You noticed?" Charlie smiles, though not out of mirth. "Yeah. I got scared too. But I did not know what to do about them. There was something off about their aura--I can feel the malicious intent, and it feels strong even now." "That means..." You dare a look behind you, but the creepy clown is not there. Charlie laughs softly from beside you, breathless. "They are hiding. Like the coward they are." His eyes turn dark as he scans the surroundings. "I cannot see them right now, but I can feel their intentions as clear as day. The other ghosts can feel it, and that is why we must get going very soon. We are not very far." Suddenly your feet are shuffling as you keep yourself from pacing. Are they almost done? Relief fills your heart when you see the kids finally stepping off the porch. They are thanking the one standing by the door, with the candy bowl in their hands. The person is dressed up as the Grim Reaper. You wave at one another, exchanging smiles, before you are moving along. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You make it back home safely." "pg32totsafe">><</button>></div> /*[[pg32totsafe]]*/

Voices clamor over each other as the front door opens by itself. Frankenstein and Mr. Arach are at the door to greet your group as they head inside, bragging about the bountiful amount of candy they managed to amass. The latter observes as you walk onto the porch, and once you are close enough he quietly asks, "Was everything alright? You look pale." You shake your head, mouthing that you will talk later. He nods--or bobs his head. Once you step inside you are overwhelmed with the familiar smell of home. And food. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Looks like Skelly has been busy while you were gone." "pg33">><</button>></div> /*[[pg33]]*/

"I have to go check on them. What if they are that...that //thing's// next target?" You run your fingers over your face, pacing around as you try to figure out what to do. Your kids are out there, //somewhere//, and you don't know where. A part of you wishes that you had gone with them. You would have been able to make sure they were safe. But now? You have no idea where in the neighborhood they are. A group of ghosts left the house to locate them, but they have yet to come back. You don't realize you are pacing until Mr. Arach speaks up. His voice is soft and it grounds you to reality. "$name, take a seat. You are getting yourself worked up." Your feet pauses and your body moves on its own accord, taking a seat on a worn couch. You have to close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Where are they?" you ask. You meet Mr. Arach's gaze as if he knows the answer. He simply shakes his head. "I don't know, $name. I'm sorry." The sun is nearly below the horizon, and as it is almost time for dinner, Skelly has headed back to the kitchen to prepare supper. You are not in the mood for food--not when you don't know where your kids are. The doorbell rings. You force yourself to get up, and you check the window to make sure it isn't the clown. Once you see who is outside, you make a run to the door. Your hands fumble trying to take off the lock, and as soon as you are able to fling the door open you reach out to wrap $sname and $dname in the tightest hug ever. "I was--I was worried about the both of you..." you choke on your words, voice cracking. The emotions that have been mounting in their absence have finally spilled. "I'm so glad you're back." Your children freeze in your tight grip, but soon they exchange similar hugs. "We got a lot of candy!" $sname replies once he has managed to worm his way out of your death grip. "There were //soooo// many houses giving out gummy bear packs. I took more than a few." "$sname nearly told someone about the ghosts, but I managed to stop him!" $dname replies, looking awfully proud. And smug. Your son pouts. "I didn't mean to! It was an accident." "Sure, but you were close to telling the entire world about it." "It was only one person!" You frown. "Guys, no fighting." Even though you disapprove of their constant bickering, you can't lie and say that you haven't missed it. The despair you once felt has dimmed now that they are back home without a scratch. $sname huffs and marches into the house. $dname follows, close on his heel, and you find those who had left with candy in their hands. "Hey! I thought you were supposed to look for them!" "Well, we did, but then we got distracted by the goods they had." One lifts up their stuffed arms. "I never knew people still gave out apples!" You can do nothing but let out an exasperated sigh as everyone files inside the house. Mr. Arach approaches you, "See? They came back alright." You rub your forehead, murmuring, "Yeah, while giving me a heart attack in the process." He chuckles. "I suppose that is true." <div class='button-fun'><<button "At least it is almost time for dinner." "pg33">><</button>></div> /*[[pg33]]*/

Dinner quickly arrives, and just like breakfast there are people shouting over each other, laughing at stupid jokes and talking about their day. This time, more people have joined, with Mr. Arach at your left. You tell him about your day, even if he was there to witness some parts of it, and when you bring up the clown he interrupts for the first time. "That bat...it really made it seem like they had the intent to harm you." Because you are speaking quietly, time continues to move on around you. Others are oblivious to your somber conversation, too absorbed in their own joyous moments. You look to the window behind Skelly, as if the clown's face will appear before you. It doesn't. "I hope they don't come back," you sigh. "Maybe it was just a costume." Mr. Arach scoffs, "I have no idea who in their right mind would dress up as a creepy clown carrying a bat. Did they think it was a joke? Walking around town with a bloody bat?" You can only shrug, because who knows? The conversation dies down after that. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Dinner wraps up eventually." "pg34">><</button>></div> /*[[pg34]]*/

Now in the late hours of Halloween, it is about time to get changed into comfortable clothes and watch some movies fitting for the holiday. Therefore, you usher your children upstairs while disposing of the basket on your front porch, so that nobody would have to ring the doorbell in order to get candy. It feels like a cycle again--they demand as much attention as they did when you helped them put on their costume. You have to unzip $dname's dress and unbutton $sname's shirt. Fond exasperation fills you as you pull out their clothes from their drawers. "So...did you guys have a good day today?" you ask, handing their pajamas to them. "Yeah, today was a really fun day!" $sname grins, quickly putting on his clothes. "I got to eat so much candy, we carved pumpkins, and the haunted mansion wasn't even that scary!" $dname laughs, putting on her shirt. "Just because it was not that scary doesn't mean you didn't scream, though." $sname rolls his eyes. "Whatever $dname. You were //soo// brave when the vampire came out of the coffin." His sister snorts, but to her credit, does not argue against it. Right as you are figuring out a way to change the subject, Charlie floats into the room, his eyes closed as if he will see something outrageous. "Are you guys done? We're deciding movies right now, so if you want to get your pick then hurry up!" "Why are you closing your eyes?" "B-because I don't want to see you without your clothes!" Even though Charlie is obviously a ghost, you can somehow see the pink in his translucent cheeks. Without waiting for a response, he goes through the wall, likely to head downstairs. You are left alone, and all three of you exchange looks. A moment later, $sname and $dname are racing downstairs in an effort to beat each other. You are reminded of your clothes and make sure to get changed before you start watching movies. <<if $costume is true>>Especially since you are not sure how much longer you will last being a banana. It is incredibly itchy against your skin.<</if>> <div class='button-fun'><<button "By the time you head downstairs, the movie is already in progress." "pg35">><</button>></div> /*[[pg35]]*/

Because there are few seating areas, some have chosen to sit on the ground. You see Charlie perched on top of the couch, eyes hyper fixated on whatever scene is playing. Your daughter moves over, leaving some room for you to barely squeeze in. Once you are properly seated, the bowl of popcorn is handed to you and $dname leans against your shoulder, popping a kernel in her mouth. The stress of the day melts away as the movie continues to play. Memories of the clown feel distant as you watch it play out. The movie is a family-friendly Halloween classic and you find yourself smiling as you stroke your kid's hair. For a while, you have no idea if you fall asleep while watching the movie. Exhaustion has managed to seep into your bones, lulling you to nap briefly. When you snap back to consciousness, you look around to see quite the scene. $dname is lying on your shoulder, breathing even, eyes closed. Next to her, $sname is leaning his weight against her back, also out like a light. Wendy's head is tipped back, and her snores do not go unnoticed. Skelly, next to her, is trying not to snicker at the sight to no avail. Charlie is awake with wide eyes, close to tipping over the edge until he rapidly pulls back. Some of the larger rats are awake, while others have their eyes closed. Mr. Arach has collected a pillow and is placing his sleeping children on it. Few ghosts are watching with interest; they go in and out of the room to grab things for themselves or check on the time. Frank is lying on the ground, head lifted, and every now and then he will chuckle at a lame joke. Someone brought in the jack-o-lanterns from outside so now there was commentary accompanied with the movie. The credits are rolling by the time you have an epiphany. You have a good life. Sure, you are a single parent. Sure, you are not always there for your children. Sure, your life is hectic and you sometimes question your own sanity. But you are content. You have people who love and care about you. You are exactly where you are meant to be. As they roll you take the opportunity to move first. You stand, taking $dname into your arms. Skelly stands too, carrying $sname and following you upstairs. Everyone wishes you a good night, with Mr. Arach signaling that you will talk more tomorrow. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You head upstairs ==for perhaps the last time==." "pg36">><</button>></div> /*[[pg36]]*/

You are careful to lay $dname in bed. Skelly follows your example, tucking $sname in and leaning down to place a soft kiss on his head. Or, well, the best a skeleton can do while trying to kiss a human. Your daughter shifts and she mutters a jumble of words you can't hear well. Deciding not to dwell on it for long, you turn off the lights, watching the glowing stars clinging to the ceiling light up. "Night," Skelly says to you quietly, pressing a hand on your shoulder briefly. The weight of the day hits you as soon as he does so, and all you can do is nod. "Good night, Skelly." He nods, heading back downstairs to join the others. <div class='button-fun'><<button "Time to go to bed." "pg37">><</button>></div> /*[[pg37]]*/

Even half-asleep, your body goes into autopilot; you still brush your teeth and perform your usual routine despite the hour. You feel refreshed by the time you are ready to go to bed. The bed feels softer than usual. You are too tired to second think about it. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You lie down." "pg38">><</button>></div> /*[[pg38]]*/

As you get comfortable, you look up at the ceiling. Your heart stops. There is a red circle above you. Intricate designs frame it and lines criss-cross over each other like scribbles. If you squint, you see that the lines form a star. That wasn't there before. The red liquid drops below. It lands by the pillow your head is placed upon. If any time was a good time to panic, it would be now. Your arms are pinned in place, and, for whatever reason, you are unable to move them or your legs. Your breathing shortens, coming out in quick breathes. There is an unsuccessful attempt to rock your comatose body, but it refuses to budge. You are //literally// pinned down. Without warning, your head lifts up. <div class='button-fun'><<button "You already know who is standing there without having to look." "pg39">><</button>></div> /*[[pg39]]*/

<div class='button-fun'><<button "The clown blocks the door, the shadow of their bat visible even in the dark." "pg40">><</button>></div> /*[[pg40]]*/

The smile on the mask widens. "I've been looking for you, //$name//." <div class='button-nofun'><<button "Everything goes dark." "end?">><</button>></div> /*[[end?]]*/

!To be continued...? Thanks for reading through this wild rollercoaster of a game! At the moment this is the "finalized" game, but we're hoping to add more to the game once the jams are over (like adding more scenes, adding music, etc). Hope you enjoyed it! Aurie’s Devlog Note: At first, Among the Haunted was a game that I originally began writing as a Halloween special. I had not planned for other people to help me, but in the end Alby joined the process of creating the game to make it what it is today. Despite the huge time difference between us and creating a shared Google Drive folder, we managed to work well together! (I also like to think that we became friends in the process!) We may collaborate again in the future, so make sure to stay tuned for that :) Alby’s Devlog Note: Honestly, I never imagined that I would have the opportunity to collaborate with someone on an interactive fiction project, but I’m so glad that Aurie was open to working together because not only was I granted the chance to be part of the development of this awesome game, I also got to be friends with such a wonderful person in the form of Aurie 😄 I look forward to any potential collaboration we may have in the future, and I hope you all share similar sentiments 😊