Halloween landed on a Wednesday that year. We were planning a party at Wyatt’s, bonfire, bobbing for apples, the whole thing.
I went to Liam’s that Monday after practice, not thinking that if I showed up, I’d end up the center of the prank and wrapped in bandages, wearing a black coat, and a giant hat on Halloween. That’s how it goes with my crew. One dumb idea snowballs into three worse ones, and somehow I’m always in the middle of it.
We were holed up in Liam’s garage, the air thick with gasoline and old paint. Every piece of junk he’d ever dragged home was scattered across the floor like parts for a time machine. We had fishing line, a rubber bat, a cracked boom box, and a trench coat that looked like it had survived a burial.
Wyatt sat on the workbench, heels tapping the metal shelf under it. “This is all garbage,” he said. “None of this is gonna scare anybody.”
“It will if we do it right,” Liam said, digging through a cardboard box as if he expected to find treasure. “We need something with drama. Something cinematic.”
I wasn’t really listening. I kept thinking about Blaire, how she’d walked past us after school, the smile she shared with Megan, the way it got under my skin. I was still replaying the look she gave me.
Liam snapped his fingers. “Chris. You paying attention?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Because you’re the key to this.”
“Wait…what?”
Wyatt groaned. “Here we go.”
Liam held up a half‑melted Halloween mask, the kind that smelled like rubber and sweat. “Darkman.”
Wyatt blinked. “You didn’t even see the movie.”
“I saw the trailer,” Liam said. “Same thing.”
“It’s not the same thing.”Wyatt huffed.
But Liam was already pacing, hands flying. “Think about it. The girls expect a ghost or a jump scare. But a guy wrapped in bandages, tall as hell. That’s next‑level.”
He pointed at me. “And here’s where you come in.”
“What the hell?”
“Chris. Earth to Chris. You’re Darkman.” Liam replied.
I should’ve said no. I should’ve told him it was stupid. But.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re tall,” Liam said. “And you can do that quiet‑creepy thing.”
Wyatt nodded. “He’s not wrong.”
I sighed, but didn’t fight it. Maybe part of me liked the idea of Blaire being a little rattled. She always saw through everything. Never flinched. She’d probably smirk and call me an idiot afterward.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
Liam howled. “Darkman.”
Wyatt frowned. “What does that even mean?”
Liam tossed the trench coat over me like he’d been waiting all day. “This, bandages from the first‑aid kit, and a half‑melted mask I hacked to look burned. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s Halloween.”
The plan was simple:
Girls walk past the old oak. We kill the flashlight. I step out slowly. Boom box scream. They freak out. Boys win Halloween.
Simple. Clean. Idiot‑proof.
That Wednesday, the whole school felt weird. The students showed up in half‑costumes under their uniforms; teachers pretended not to notice; and the hallways smelled of cheap face paint and plastic masks.
Liam spent the morning talking about “the ultimate scare,” like he was directing a blockbuster. Wyatt kept telling him to shut up before someone overheard, which only made him talk louder.
I tried to act like I wasn’t listening, but every time I saw Blaire, the plan got louder in my head. She had her witch costume folded in her backpack, the black ribbon already tied in her hair
By lunch, Liam had convinced himself we were going to “own Halloween.” I kept quiet because every time I pictured Blaire screaming, something in my chest tightened.
That night, we walked to the meeting spot. The usual girls were already there. Megan was adjusting her costume, the others were sorting candy, Liam’s sister was watching us like she could smell a scheme.
And Blaire.
Black dress. Boots. Ribbon in her hair. Flashlight tucked into her sleeve like she’d been born knowing how to handle the dark.
She looked at me for half a second, then turned back to the girls.
Liam elbowed me and whispered. “Tonight, we go full Darkman.”
I nodded, even though something in her look made me wonder if she already knew.
We had a plan.
We had a costume.
We had the perfect spot under the oak.
We walked the neighborhood, joking and shoving each other as the oak got closer. Then we fell back, splitting off and leaving the girls alone.
Liam hit play on the tape deck. A shrieking scream tore through the dark.
“Guys, this isn’t funny…. Chris?” Blaire called, her voice cracking as she backed into Megan.
Wyatt shook the hedge. The girls jumped. Leslie bolted.
Blaire and Megan were left, running toward the oak, giggling and screaming.
My cue.
I hung back in the shadows. Doing my creepy quiet thing perfectly. I rattled the coat and moaned.
The girls fumbled the flashlight, nearly dropping the jack‑o’-lantern Megan was carrying. Its orange glow pulsed against their hands. The carved grin flared each time she tightened her grip. Megan was dressed as Ichabod Crane; she looked spooky in that jumpy light. I let out a low, menacing chuckle and slid toward the sidewalk.
I stepped out from behind the tree, coat hanging loose, bandages catching the jack o’ lantern’s flicker. The orange-yellow light made them look older, dirt‑stained, almost smoldering. I dragged one foot, head tilted like something wasn’t attached right.
They screamed and bolted. The light pulsed wildly as they ran, throwing long, crooked shadows across the pavement. Blaire dropped her hat, and for a moment the pumpkin’s glow skimmed over it before the breeze lifted the brim and rolled it away. The thrill of the prank hit me first, with a sharp tingle of victory, and then drained out just as fast. Watching that hat tumble down the sidewalk, I bit my lip as I regretted scaring her.
Liam fist‑pumped. “Darkman wins.”
Wyatt laughed. “They bought it.”
Then the street went silent. Liam, Wyatt, and I were standing in the street alone. Our flashlight flickered.
“Dude, we won. It’s over.” Wyatt looked at Liam.
“It’s not me,” he whimpered.
A second later, another figure lurched out from behind the hedges, big coat, same style bandages, same dragging limp.
But shorter. It was wrong in a way that hits your spine before your brain.
Wyatt yelped. Liam tripped over his own cape. I froze.
The figure staggered toward us, groaning low, head twitching like it might fall off. It stopped and twitched as if possessed. We bumped into each other and then the tree. That’s when we heard it. The girls were giggling behind the hedge.
Then it ripped the bandages off.
Leslie, Liam’s twin sister.
Flashlight under her chin, eyes wild with triumph.
Blaire stepped out behind her, arms crossed. “You boys really thought we wouldn’t notice?”
Megan hit play on their boom box, and an even louder scream that made Wyatt jump again.
Denise pointed at me. “Nice coat, though.”
I huffed and pulled the rest of the bandages off. My face was hot.
Blaire brushed past me, her shoulder grazing mine as she smirked. “Good effort,” she said. “But next time? Don’t leave the mask in your locker.”
By the time we got back to Wyatt’s house, the party had begun to swallow the place whole. Other kids from school filled the backyard. Even the ones nobody talked to. We ended up trading candy and talking crap on Wyatt’s pool deck. Liam kept insisting the boys “technically” won.
But no one agreed on that.
Wyatt was still acting shaky. Leslie looked smug. Megan and Denise were laughing.
Blaire nudged my knee with hers. “You made a decent Darkman,” she said. “Creepy, but in a good way.”
I tried not to smile too hard. “Yeah? Didn’t scare you.”
“Maybe a little,” she said, eyes flicking to mine. “But only because you disappeared into it.”
Music thumped from the living room speakers, bleeding through the sliding glass doors and out onto the pool deck. Someone had dragged the smoke machine outside, so a low fog rolled across the concrete like a cheap horror movie effect. It clung to our ankles, drifting toward the fire pit where a handful of kids were roasting marshmallows and pretending not to watch each other.
Wyatt’s dad had strung orange lights around the screen enclosure, but half of them flickered like they were dying. It made everything look a little haunted, which felt right.
Liam burst through the door first, cape flapping behind him. “Halloween champions reporting for duty,” he announced.
Leslie didn’t even look up from the snack table. “Delusional,” she said.
I peeled off the last of the costume and tossed it into a trash bag by the cooler. Blaire walked past me toward the pool, her dress catching the orange glow from the dangling lights. She didn’t say anything, but she glanced back once, and that was enough to make my stomach flip.
Wyatt shoved a soda into my hand. “Dude. You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Funny,” I said.
He grinned, proud of himself, then wandered off to argue with Liam. I stayed near the edge of the porch, watching the fog drift over the pool. Kids were jumping in fully clothed, splashing like idiots. Someone had set up a strobe light near the diving board, and every few seconds the whole scene froze in a white flash, arms mid‑flail, water suspended in the air, faces twisted in laughter.
Blaire ended up beside me without warning, leaning her elbows on the railing. “You’re quiet,” she said.
I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Long night.”
Behind us, Liam yelled something about “cinematic brilliance,” and Megan threw a handful of popcorn at him. Leslie was lecturing someone about the physics of jump scares. The whole scene felt loud and alive, but Blaire and I were in our own pocket of quiet.
She looked up at me. “You know we saw you guys at school, right?”
“Yeah.”
The music stopped. Someone switched the mixtape, something bass‑heavy, something that made the pool lights pulse. A group of kids started dancing near the fire pit, silhouettes moving through the fog.
Blaire watched them for a second, then looked back at me. “You coming?”
“To dance?”
I hesitated, and she caught it. Her expression softened.
“Chris,” she said quietly, “come on.”
Blaire didn’t wait for an answer. She headed toward the fire pit, boots tapping against the concrete.
I stayed at the railing for a beat, the hesitation still tight in my chest. The questions. The feelings of not belonging dulled. Then something in me gave, and I pushed off after her.