It was late, very late. Lonesome crickets stridulated their wings off in the some-odd distance from the quiet town. It’s that time of year again, when all the children have their costumes and goodie bags ready for the wicked holiday ahead, when everyone in town decorates their homes in the triad of purple, orange, and black, and when the legend told by playful and nagging parents goes around for fun-filled scares about the dreaded Boogeyman coming to town.
That’s only a legend though.
In just a few days, Halloween will be at everyone’s doorstep. It will be at their town square, and at their stores, in their spirits, and in their homes. And, while the townsfolk are all having fun and celebrating the most haunting night of the year, something evil lurks by, something dreadful. The original and full story of the Boogeyman of Greenville entailed descriptions of a moving house, the 'Lerkim' so they called it, that would follow wherever the fun of Halloween would be, and that inside of the Lerkim is where a tall and skinny monster dressed as a man lived… Ugly and needle thin teeth filled his awful smile, and alongside him were his dead younger twin brothers that he himself stitched together as one and brought back to life, so that they could help him spread terror wherever they went, and only on Halloween night.
Ted was no stranger to this story, in fact, he remembers well that the tale had only begun to spread shortly after he moved into Greenville. This small, quaint, and rather cozy town was his grandfather’s favorite place to visit when Ted was still a little boy.
Unbeknownst to the peaceful residents of Greenville, that legend is more than just a spooky bedtime story that they all tell their children in order to maintain good behavior on the sugar-filled fun and chaotic night of Halloween. Ted is the only known existing relative of that very same monster that parents warn their little ones of, only Ted has kept that part of his identity in the darkest corners he could find, out of sight from the masses, just to maintain some peace in his own life. Who knows how the people of such a remote and small town would react to a ridiculous revelation like that anyway, and Ted isn’t exactly one to just run from his problems, so it’s very safe to say that situation would quickly spoil into one giant disaster—at the very least.
With Halloween creeping just around the bend and everyone preparing for the holiday, Ted knows his grandfather isn’t far behind, and dread creeps up into his chest as his thoughts ponder on the impending visit. Eyeballing the calendar hung up in his garage from his knelt position beside his prized motorbike, a deeply contemplative sigh sags on Teddy’s shoulders, realizing just how close that the Boogeyman must be by now. It’s not often that he forgets why he moved to Greenville, but every now and again Teddy needs to stop for a breather, to remind himself that if he wasn’t here, the poor little town from his precious childhood memories would be under the thrall of a monster.
Ted mutters under his breath behind gritted teeth, feeling the backs of their needle-thin structures with his tongue, tapping the pad of his fingers on the smooth and tight surface of the bike’s polished leather seat, as he ponders going and actually talking to his grandfather. He hates that he shares the same teeth as that old man, hates that he has his same temper, his same smile, his same eyes, same blood. Whatever. His mind has already been made up: the greaser will go outside of town to see that miserable old wretch, not because they’re family, but because someone needs to keep the Boogeyman at bay around this time of year near the place that Ted calls home.
Now with a soured expression fallen onto his face, Ted cranks his tools and tinkers away at his bike for what crawling sliver of sunlight is left in his day, making sure that his ride will be ready and pristine for tomorrow evening when he ultimately leaves his home to walk on the dark side of Halloween, leaving when everyone else would already have gone to bed without a worry or care. It almost feels surreal for Ted to be living the way that he is: in the same town that his grandfather used to take him to when he was small, the same town that the same old man has always tormented under Ted’s nose, only to grow up and protect the residents from his grandfather—now infamous horror story—in secret.
The last of Ted’s remaining thoughts linger on the terrible smile of that spindly man, but thankfully by the time the worst of those thoughts emerged, Ted’s consciousness was already somewhere else far away, and left those thoughts where his memory can’t reach thanks to the quiet escape of sleep.
For some reason, Ted feels off when he’s finally out of bed by the next day, and despite hours upon hours passing by, the feeling never truly goes away. Normally he’d just assume that maybe he didn’t sleep well, like those nights when a terrible nightmare haunts the mind, but is forgotten by the next day, only leaving tiny traces of itself in the subconscious before it fades away. That’s exactly what he would normally assume, but this was different, without a doubt, he was certain that this was different. Being related to the dreadful presence that lingers around the spirit of Halloween, Ted recognizes this feeling, the feeling of another monster nearby approaching closer… closer… closer… and closer. At any minute now, a crawling and crooked house will be just beyond the outskirts of Greenville, as the sun begins to set again and paint the sky in vibrant colors, it won’t be long until the shadows behind the colorful truffula hills swallows the entire town whole.
Nightfall comes with Ted following close behind, and the cold midnight breeze blows through the strands of Ted’s mullet as he rides his favorite bike into the night. The lack of a helmet not being an uncommon occurrence for Ted, considering that he’s quite literally more 'strong-headed' than the average person, and generally just…well…couldn’t give a shit. He’s going to talk to his grandfather, and that’s that.
After what feels like an hour of riding in the cool and pleasant silence, there is an unmistakable silhouette in the dark distance… the silhouette of the Lerkim. All of the architecture that makes up the ominous moving house always seems impossible in its crooked and twisted features. The sun has gone, no animal dares to make noise, not even the crickets, not even the sound of wind blowing through the grass fills the air.
It’s utterly, purely, and terrifyingly silent.
Without wasting a second longer, Ted is off of his well-taken-care-of bike, and marches himself up the stairs to the Lerkim’s front porch, but the doorbell proves to be useless in just a moment. Not even bothering to knock or wipe his shoes off on the doormat, the Boogeyman’s door is met with a very abrupt and blunt reckoning as Theodore smashes it down with the bottom of his boot. It’s only tradition—at this point—that Ted enters his dear ol’ man’s house like he owns the place, and only once every year, on the same day, at the same time, without fail. After a quick look around by the front door, Ted finds no one in sight, which either means his grandfather is already in the belly of Greenville lurking about, or his visit has been planned for, and this is a trap for Ted…
“Hello there! Howdy! Is that who we think it is?!”
‘We’? Two identical voices shriek with excitement and cheer at the welcomed—albeit abrupt—arrival. Ted knows those voices.
“Uncle Brett? Uncle Chet?”
Teddy calls out in a softer tone of voice, though still with the same disdain he would use for his grandfather.
“Grandpa isn’t home right now!”
But, before either conjoined twin even makes the decision to step closer, to say something more, or even blink, Teddy is quick enough to put the small talk of an unfortunate reunion to a halt. Ted came for his dear ol’ grandpa, and he needs to see him without waiting a second longer than necessary. Brett and Chet’s back meets the floor with a sharp ‘thud’ that surely would make anyone grimace in sympathy for, as both twins look up, their nephew’s boot keeps a firm position between their conjoined chests, right where they are both stitched together, and with a lovely surprise pointed to their faces. A handgun.
“I don’t have time for whatever games you have, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Either this can be done quickly, via you tellin’ me where that holiday blight is, or I trick-shot one bullet into both of your faces.”
Ted clicks off the trigger guard on his handgun, staring both of his uncles down with gritted teeth. If these two idiots don’t think that their nephew will eat them up alive, they’ll both surely be caught by surprise.
