Word Play: Halloween Special (Patreon)

Word Play

Chapter Halloween Special

-VB-

Armsmaster did not like Halloween. 

Something weird always happened. If it wasn’t Uber and Leet disturbing the suburban, then it was the ABB taking to the festivities more than the E88 and thus angering the latter because of “inferior races stealing the aryan holiday” or something stupid like that. 

Everyone knew that Halloween was Irish, the redheads that the aryans claim was an inferior race.

But all of it was useless festivities catered to children that he did not like. All Halloween ever did for him was give him more work that pulled him away from his projects. 

And this year didn’t seem to be any different. 

He found himself guarding an avenue where many tourists and locals were going through in a long march to celebrate … whatever it was that they were celebrating. Personally, he didn’t care. He didn’t care so much that he didn’t even bother to take the time to write down the name of the festival or celebration.

That’s how much fucks he gave about Halloween.

“... Armsmaster?”

He looked down and saw a kid. 

“Hello, citizen.”

“Are you cosplaying as Robocop?”

He heard a few laughters around him in the packed street.

“No,” he replied. “I’m not dressed up to look like anyone else.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“Because I need to be visible as myself here to provide protection.”

“... But why?”

“Because Director Piggot asked the Protectorate heroes to provide protection.”

“But why?”

“Because the city asked.”

“But why?”

Annoying child.

“Because there is always trouble somewhere somehow during Halloween.”

“... Makes sense,” the kid sniffed. “I kind of thought that.”

If he already thought about it, then why did he even bother to ask him in the first place? 

“The creepy stone statues makes me think people definitely need you around.”

Armsmaster froze before looking down at the child.

“Where did you find the statues?”

The child looked back up at him, looked back down, and then pointed.

Armsmaster looked up and stiffened. 

Stone Angels.

And there were a lot of them.

And … dressed like Mexicans? At least the ponchos, sombreros, and maracas seemed to point toward that instead of them dressing up for a different festival.

Why were they dressed like that? 

No. That wasn’t a question for him. He needed to keep people away from them.

He pushed himself into the crowd, and each time he lost sight of the Stone Angels, they took new poses. He even heard their maracas crackling and cracking to the rock music thrumming in the background. 

As he got closer, they turned to look at him with blank faces.

And as he kept losing track through the meandering bodies passing by in front of him, he saw them disappearing one by one. 

“This is Armsmaster!” he shouted in alarm. “Clear the way!” 

The party-goers all got alarmed and quickly moved out of the way… but that only made the last of the Stone Angels disappear. But a single piece of paper drifted down from where the last one had stood.

He finally reached the location and looked around. Aside from a few people looking at him in alarmed surprise, he didn’t see the Stone Angels. In this thick crowd, he’d be a fool to try to chase after them, too. 

“Fuck,” he muttered after turning off his external speaker. He crouched down and picked up the paper. 

The words on it were deceptively simple. Or perhaps meaningless.

Happy Halloween!