A Pretorius Halloween

Ms. Pretorius was finishing off Halloween decorations while finishing off a bottle of merlot. As she placed the last two mummies against the pillars of her large front porch, she thought, I have just got to get replacements for these two this year. They’re starting to smile. I can’t have happy mummies, now can I?

The two mummies did indeed look like they were beginning to get a smiling rictus about their faces, but to average persons, the mummies looked more horrifying than happy with their sardonic grins. But of course, Ms. Pretorius was not an average person. She was a witch of the highest order, but she was forced to live among the humans as punishment for turning the coven queen into a blobfish.

Ms. P. was a short, old, and crooked-skinny witch but her appearance was deceitful. She maintained a sweet, grandmotherly face. She always wore black caftans to cover the crookedness of her body, a rumpled, overlarge black hat (that often slipped down over her eyes) with a wilty-looking purple flower festooned in the band, and she carried an unnecessary cane.

She looked sweetly strange. But underneath her disguise was one of the most powerful witches ever to walk this planet – quick to anger and with devilish intent. The only way to control her was to banish her out among the humans, where her power would be limited by the proximity of human souls. She still had the power to wreak havoc, but on a much smaller scale than in her native environment.

She plotted, Now what shall I subdue the children with this time? Muddleroot gum? Blurrybark tea? Jumblejuice? Maybe just a quick bop on the head will do.

As she pondered and planned, Shadow — her gray-furred and black-pawed cat – was enjoying his own devilment for the day. Behind Ms. P., Shadow spotted movement toward the back of the house. He jumped off the porch through the railings and stalked toward the disturbance.

Can it be? he thought. Yes! Indeed it is. Another one of the sacrificial chickens has escaped the coop. Time for a snack.

He stalked silently, oh so stealthily toward the bird. When he was close enough, his shadow turned into an immense wolf with shadow-colored foam plopping to the ground from its mouth. The shadow snapped up the poor, unwary chicken in a darkness that wore razor-sharp teeth and claws. With a quickness that left no time for even a squawk, the chicken was devoured whole. Shadow licked his mouth, sighed in contentment and began to saunter back toward the porch when he noticed a new snack. Salamanders in the basement window well. His shadow turned into a cat-sized frog and started to snap them up.

Meanwhile, Ms. P. was calling for him. She looked over the side rail and saw shadow feasting. In a sharp, commanding voice, she said, “Stop that. I need those for tomorrow’s soup.” Shadow slunk off in a huff, but eventually returned to the porch.

Just then, two children began walking up the driveway toward the house. In a low voice, Ms. P. said, “Ooo, looky what we have here. Mindy and Mandy Mayhem – Ms. Merry Mayhem’s twins. And don’t they look wonderful. A little thick, they are. Not those skinny-type children who shrivel up too fast.” Shadow agreed. They looked very good to him too, though for very different reasons.

Ms. P. put on her sweetest smile. “Welcome, children. So nice of you to come see an old woman on Halloween. Come sit on the swing for a moment,” she said as she sat down in her padded wicker chair. But while Ms. P. talked comfortably with the children and readied to wield her autographed miniature baseball bat (that she ordered all the way from America) from behind her back, Shadow was trembling. He was trying to control himself, but failing.

In the background where no one was looking, Shadow’s shadow grew into an eight-foot-tall creature that defied recognition because it had never before been seen. It had the shape of a bear, but its head was too big, its mouth too wide, its snout too long. Its mouth opened to expose long, pointed sharp teeth and what looked like a black, viscous drool pouring from its mouth. Shadow was shaking almost convulsively by then, but his control was completely gone because he had already manifested shadow-eaters twice that day. The bear-like shadow creature was also shaking, exerting its own control in order to fully manifest itself.

In an instant, the shadow’s mouth opened impossibly wide and chomped down on the children. In three bites, they were gone, with no sign that they had ever been there.

Ms. P. shouted, “Noooo. NoNoNo. You feline freak! You knew I wanted them for my mummy collection, yet you ate them anyway. Aagh!”

Shadow managed a soft mew and blinked his adorable little eyes at her. He spoke in her head, “I told you I was hungry and you didn’t feed me. I’m sorry. I tried not to.” Emitting an apologetic purr, Shadow jumped onto Ms. P’s lap, where she summarily pushed him off in a powerful swipe of anger. “Get off me you furry, meddlesome moron!” She jumped from her chair and as she opened the door into the house, she mumbled, “You little @#%&!. I should throw you in the microwave and watch you pop.”

She knew she wouldn’t do that but for a moment, the thought brought a smile to her face. No witch would ever harm her companion familiar, especially not a witch who was marooned in a drab existence and isolated from her coven.

Several minutes later, after she calmed down a bit – Ms. P. returned to the door, called for Shadow to come inside, then locked him in as she returned to the porch to sit and guzzle another bottle of wine — this time Sangria — as she sat and waited for more victi — um… children.