Terror-Fest: Horror Movie Mayhem

Henrietta walked through the crowds, nervously glancing at the people dressed up as horror movie characters. She wore a costume of the ragdoll, Sally, from the Nightmare Before Christmas. Her face was painted to make it look like it was stitched together and a line extended from either side of her mouth to make her mouth look larger, and less human. Her brown hair was straightened and looked even longer than usual. It swished from side to side as she walked in her black, slightly high-heeled shoes. Stopping next to a food stand, the girl spun in a small circle, trying to see if she could recognize anyone she knew.

Usually, Henrietta May Braun was a big fan of horror. She read many scary books and loved horror movies, especially the type with weird monsters or creepy ghosts. But tonight, it seemed, all of the horrible sights surrounding her just made her want to go back home. She took a deep breath and walked over to a bench where it appeared a scarecrow was sitting. Carefully, the girl perched beside it and watched masses of people pass by. She admired all the different costumes and ideas people had come up with. It seemed that Halloween was great at bringing the creative, fun side out of people. A giggle escaped from her when she spotted a grown man dressed as Barney.

As she continued her stay on the bench, she felt like she was being watched. She slowly turned and glanced at the scarecrow, now wondering if it was a costume. After looking for a few moments, Henri rolled her eyes and began watching people again. She propped her arms on her knees and then rested her head on her hands. Something shifted next to her again. When she turned to look at the scarecrow again, it was right in her face and let out a shrill laugh. Henrietta let out a small scream and jumped off the bench.

The scarecrow’s hands reached for its head, and then took off the pumpkin that had been its skull. A young teenage boy laughed hysterically as he looked at the shocked expression on the brunette’s face. Henri gulped, still nervous, but then picked up a stuffed animal that someone had left on the ground near the bench and threw it at him. It wouldn’t hurt him of course, but it did make the girl feel much better. Turning away from him so quick that her hair almost whipped him in his face, she walked off with her head held high and a lump in her throat.

The brunette was no longer scared, just mad at her own fear. She wasn’t sure why she had felt so scared. They were just people dressed up in costumes, like she was, but she kept imagining that one of those disguised humans was actually one of those terrifying villains. She knew that it couldn’t be, but part of her stomach still flipped at the thought. Henri had watched enough horrors movies to practically be able to tell you what was going to happen next. Creepy music would come on and the girl would feel that excited feeling that something twisted was about to happen.

Her arms were crossed over her chest and she gazed out grumpily at the people walking by. She saw the boy in the scarecrow costume glance at her warily before running passed her. That made her smirk a little and she felt her spirits rise. Someone in a mask that looked like rotting flesh walked by and then jumped at the girl. This time, instead of being scared, she waved and said “boo”. The person tilted their head to the side in confusion and then shrugged before walking away. She tapped her foot lightly against the ground with a grin on her face. Henrietta hummed the song “Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who.

As she stood by herself, someone with a mask walked toward her, but began to pull it up as they did so. When the person reached her, she knew it was Locke. Henri had met him when he had first arrived in New York and he was sitting on a bench, alone. The girl remembered him as being grumpy and a bit rude. She had gotten annoyed with him, but felt bad and showed him to the Mansion. It was weird, but she had never run into him, though they had been living in the same house. She felt her eyes widen a bit with surprise when he got to her and complimented her one her costume. “Uh, thanks.”

She glanced at his mask and then smirked. “Let me guess, Saw was your inspiration, right? Those are pretty good movies, twisted, but that’s what makes horror movies awesome.” Henrietta uncrossed her arms and placed one hand on her hip, but not in an intimidating way. It was more to relax than anything. “It’s good to see you, Locke. How have you been? Good, I hope.” A smile spread across her freckled face and it made her blue eyes wrinkle slightly. “You must be a big fan of horror as well. That’s cool. I love creepy, weird stuff. I’m pretty big into horror stories too.” The girl gathered her hair in her hands and put it over her shoulder.

Central Park – Angel at the Water Fountain

Christanna Addams, only twelve years old, with curly red hair and a pale face covered in freckles glowered as she slowly walked behind a slow moving older couple. One of them was dressed as the classic, Bela Lugosi Dracula while the other, a blonde woman was dressed as a Princess and seemed to have trouble keeping up with the man. Christianna was only too happy to be so far behind them. It was not as if they would notice anyway. After all, did they even care about the costume she chose for this evening? Did they even care that their twelve year old daughter was running around, dressed in a gauzy, midnight blue dress with a flowing train? Or that she wore her best gold jewelry and had a circlet of fake little blue jewels around her brow? No they paid no heed to the fact that she just spent weeks making her own costume based after Nyx, Goddess of the Night and Dreams! No, the only time they cared was when –

“Christianna!” the Dracula, also known as Gerald Addams shouted as he stood under the arch and glared at his daughter. “Pick up your feet! We’re already late!”

“Come on, don’t yell at her tonight,” the blonde pleaded as she stood under the arch and sighed with exasperation at her husband.

Gerald Addams only seemed to growl as he grabbed the woman by her arm and spun her hard. The man, the great contributor to the city, the whole corridinator for this event, in that moment, looked more demonic than the creature he attempted to portray. His teeth ground, fake fangs bared as he tightened his grip on the woman and then finally let her go.

“You don’t speak back to me,” he said and shot a dagger-like glare at the Christanna. “And you, keep up. We’re late enough as it is and I will not be embarrassed.”

Christanna sniffled a little as she wiped a tear from her cheek. There was nothing she could say so she merely followed them further into the park.

The park around was oppressive with the darkness. Around every corner, under every rock and behind every tree, was a choking darkness that seemed like an entity enticing them to come closer. They beckoned, whispered through the wind that rustled the leaves, that tonight was a night where they could be anyone, do anything, and act in any way that they pleased. But even as the music and flashing lights of the far away festivities drew closer with each step, the joy and imagination was lost on one particular girl. Christianna only wanted to go home now, lock herself in her room and fall asleep to the music on her ipod. Being here only meant one thing, listening to her father’s inane acceptance speech for putting on this charity.

It’s all a lie, she mumbled as he absently rubbed her arm where it had once been fractured. The cool October air must be making it sore.

As they were closer to their destination, she spied a couple of more people in costume now scattered about. They were getting in the midst of the groups. She saw wolfmen, monsters, famous historical figures, fictional characters, even an appliance or food costume or two. Then she was nearly startled when a tall, thin man jumped out at her, grinning and laughing in a wheezing manner. The man was odd to say the least, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans with thick, coke bottle glasses. The shirt had some writing on it that looked like the letters, M-R-O flared it white across it. But the oddest thing came when the man laughed and held out what looked like a ball of string.

“Wanna thread?!”

Christanna, too shocked for words suddenly began to laugh hysterically. The man was so ridiculous looking that she could not help herself! But that joy was short lived. Before long her father reappeared and snatched her away roughly. He growled even more inhumanly as he glared down at the young girl.

“What is wrong with you?! I told you we were in a hurry! Stop wasting my time!!” With each sentence his grip tightened considerably on her already sore arm.

Christianna, unable to take it anymore, simply screamed out, tears flooding her face as a massive migraine set in. She yelled out as she shoved her father backward with her tiny hands and took a couple of weak steps backward, unable to contain her sobs and tears anymore. She gasped heavily as she raised her hand and pointed accusingly at him, running the sore spot on her arm with her free hand.

“You’re a lie! You’re nothing but a lie!!!!”

As she screamed the last word, a sudden glow began to emit from her forehead. Another massive headache struck her and this was more painful than the last, something which she could not contain anymore. Her emotions bubbled up to a frenzy, Christanna ground her teeth to the point that she could swear she heard one or two breaking then…as the beautiful white light around her forehead reached it’s apex…she screamed.

Her voice was dry and hoarse as it echoed out through the trees and struck the ears of any and all within range. She could not stop yelling, especially as the light from her forehead grew in intensity before it exploded, a burst of magnificent, spider-webbing white light that erupted from this single person like an all encompassing blanket. It spread out, farther and farther, growing whiter and bright as it enveloped any in its path. There was no escape, no running, it rolled over the green grass like a swift moving fog with only one thought in mind…expand…

Expand…

EXPAND…

And in an instant, as this fog of fast moving white light reached the edges of Central Park, having covered all of the festivities, it suddenly WHOOOOOSHED!!! backward and condensed into the single body of Christianna. The girl was thrown off her feet and fell backward. She groaned painfully as she stared up at the sky in shock, wondering what that pain she felt was and why…why did her head buzz like a honeycomb now? She shook as she stood up, weakly and feebly, and glanced around her.

“H-Hello?” she asked nervously. “M-Mom? Dad?”

She crept forward, unable to believe her eyes. Everyone she could see, everyone inside the park, including her parents, simply stood there. Unmoving, unresponsively, the people she could see seem to be staring there in a daze, staring wide-eyed up at the sky with the only movement being their shallow in and out take of breath. It looked like something from a horror movie…and just like any horror movie, Christanna screamed…and ran somewhere…anywhere as people continued to stare up in the sky blankly.

“Halloween is kind of a big deal back home. Either I stay at home and pass out candy while watching horror movies or go out with my sibs and make sure that they don’t get lost or kidnapped. If I let Kendra go with them they wouldn’t get to go to the houses they wanted. She’d be too clingy.” Of course all the houses and costumed people back in San Francisco had nothing on this. Locke couldn’t wrap his brain around the extravagance of it all, and it was a pity that it was for such a short time. Those that were involved in the presentation of Terror-Fest had made a great commitment. What a waste of such hard work. “As big as it is there, I think I might like New York’s better. Have you tasted the apples here? They’re so juicy and sweet. It’s like having a tidal wave happen in your mouth.” Food was something that he found himself enjoying a great deal on the east coast. It had never been something that he gave a great deal of thought to before other than what could he make to eat. Things were made differently here, and Buffalo sauce tastes infinitely better when it is actually from Buffalo. Of course Taco Bell tasted the same no matter where you were.

Henri got Saw. “Yeah, even the worst of them you get attached to, if nothing else because you want to see them be the next to go. I hated Amanda. Don’t know why exactly, maybe because she was too obsessed with Jigsaw, or that she was always so messed up. Have you seen the latest one?” He asked in hopes that she would be able to tell him if it managed to uphold the good name of Saw. Between his vacation and working on his mutation Locke just didn’t get a chance to go see it. It did not help that he was rather limited on his funds. Before he could get his answer though Locke was thrown into his own weird situation. It seemed that every time Locke went into New York City he encountered a bigger misadventure. His head started tilting back, like he still was wearing that balloon and it was tied to his head. Amazing how a crowd will all do the same thing without realizing it. Rather than question why everyone stopped walking Locke did what the crowd did. Was his brain melting? It felt that way because all that there was there was this question feeling.

John Locke posed the theory that a person's identity is not established by simply the physical traits, or even personality traits, but rather through memories. It is the "sameness of memories" that solidifies a personal identity. So when Locke Tori's memories faded away he was indeed a new person, just as everyone there that evening no longer were who they had originally been. He turned about, looking at the people surrounding him. Everything on the left side was gone, there was no peripheral vision. Without the memories of the hospital, and the doctors speaking over him, this sudden darkness did not strike terror in his heart. It frightened him of course, but there were more pressing issues to attend to.

In his gloved hands rested a mask. Locke studied it, knowing that there was something about the pig face with hair that he knew. His own memories, ones about his life, were blanked out right now, but this mask was related to something that he just could not forget about. A girl at his side, who he recognized the image of, but not the person herself. She looked like a child's plaything, something that he could make. He'd made a doll like thing before. Jigsaw drifted to his brain. It explained the mask somehow, and why he knew he could make dolls. The impaired vision might be a result of the cancer. The medical jargon would explain things better if he had the time to listen to such things. His time was limited, and there was much to accomplish, much to teach. "Humans are weird" the girl dressed as a doll said. Locke put the mask on. "Not weird, just unaware" Ironic that she said that.

He paused for a moment, studying this person who failed to realize her own humanity, judging if she was unaware of the value of life, specifically her own. In order for any of his lessons to be taught properly he had to go on his base instincts of human nature, and apply a great deal of thought to the social and psychological tendencies that affected his subjects actions in any given situation. There was the most basic desire to survive, but did she have it?

Locke Jigsaw thought that she did. Her responses was not the pleading of someone who cried out that they wanted life but were too afraid to take action to keep it, nor was it a narcotic driven nonsense. She had pointed out how everyone had been staring at the sky, an action he had the muscle memory of doing. This girl was under the clear impression that she was, it would seem, an over-sized rag doll. What compelled her to continue this lie to herself was unclear.

In spite of what the police might say about his actions, Jigsaw was a compassionate man, or at the very least his actions had been driven by a passion. This disillusion girl had done no wrong to the best of his recollection and needed a type of help that he was unable to provide. He could give someone the value of a life, wake them up as a new person, but he could not remind someone of who they really were without knowing that himself. "Your face is chipping,"Locke told her. If he was unable to help her, the least that he could do was to give her directions on what to do next. Taking her with him was not an option. "Go to someplace safe and stay there." Funny how Locke's normal voice suited the role he now found himself in.

It was not much to go off of. Safe was a relative term for someone who had given in to madness, but for him to lock her away when she had not done anything wrong would be cruel. He began to slip away into the crowd, being mindful of his blind spot. The doctors were all the ones with the medical knowledge, but he knew that if he was having such a problem then he should be feeling much more weak. Perhaps he was missing something like the doll girl had suggested. There was surprisingly little in his short term memory, a mystery that he now had to solve before continuing in his own work. As a comfort there was more in his long term memory. He could remember Jill the clinic, waiting in the car, and the first game with Cecil. Other memories were there, but for some reason they were jumbled. He recalled the long stillness of Adam and Doctor Laurence's test, but that memory was followed by the preparation for it long after he had pronounced "Game over". The design of his life was not matching the numbers, and he had to make sure that his own self was secure before he could continue to teach.



((Sorry to leave you hanging Henri, but I need to get Locke over to the Angel of the Waters Fountain. It was great posting with you again and I look forward to seeing what 'Sally' does next.))