Halloween Special OF DOOM, part 3
Part 1 is here.
Part 2 is here.
Title: Halloween Special OF DOOM 2017, part 3
Word Count: ~1400
Warnings: None.
There didn't seem to be a point in standing in the rain, so they both dashed into the dark entryway of the shop. Howard pushed the door and it opened with an audible groan. The inside of the shop was even darker than the entryway.
"Do we even know what this book looks like?" Howard asked. "Has it got a name on?"
Vince didn't answer. His mouth was angry but his eyes were hurt, and it made Howard very confused.
"Oh, so it's the silent treatment for Howard Moon, is it?" Howard said. "Well, that's just fine, sir. I don't need any of your help. I'm not going to talk to you either. This is me giving you my patented cold shoulder. Cold as ice. Cold as the heart of a Shropshire badger. Cold as…"
"I thought you weren't talking to me," Vince snapped.
"I'm not," Howard said. "Let's just go find this book and then I suppose Naboo'll find some way to get your horrid pink bubble mate back. Just leave me out of it when he does."
"I don't know why I should, considering this is all your fault."
"Just help me find the book, all right?"
Vince stepped into the shop and turned on the lights. There was a crackle and a buzz before the shop was filled with a flickering yellow glow. Inside the shop, the floor was covered with tattered yellow shag that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. Boxes of empty-eyed baby dolls and Halloween masks lined the walls. There were cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and dust swirling in the air. Howard though that surely this couldn't be up to code.
"I'll start on one end if you take the other," Howard said. Vince shrugged and turned his back. He walked off into the shadows of the shop while Howard squared his shoulders and started going through boxes.
Howard thought that this task could go faster if they made up a crimp about it, or if Vince stopped being angry at him. Why did Vince like Charlie so much anyway? Charlie didn't even talk, or like jazz, or make tea, or anything. Maybe he should have written a book where Vince got married to Charlie, if he liked him so much. Then Vince would've been sorry. He'd have begged Howard to write Charlie off. He'd realize that he needed Howard then.
He wished Vince would talk to him.
He'd been going through boxes for what seemed like forever, and he still hadn't found Naboo's book. All he could find was old clothes and soft toys. He pushed the box he'd just finished aside and started on the next one.
Outside, there was a huge crack of thunder. The floor split open and a hand shot from the ground, wrapping around Howard's wrist. The fingers were wizened and a sickly shade of purple. Howard screamed.
"Howard!" he heard behind him, and then Vince was there and pulling him back, out of the hand's grip. "Howard, what is it?"
The crack in the floor widened and two obscenely long arms emerged. The skin was pulled taut over the tendons and mottled. Before Howard or Vince could do anything, a squat, lumpy head emerged, great red eyes staring and staring, with a mouth full of huge, grinning teeth.
"Terry," Vince whispered.
"So this is the famous Howard," Terry said, heaving himself out of the floor. He leaned down and picked his motorcycle helmet out of the hole before balancing it on his head at a jaunty angle. "I suppose I have you to thank for bringing me into the world. Can't tell you how happy I am to be back."
"You leave him alone," Vince said. Howard was hiding behind Vince's legs and whimpering. "We've got things to do, Terry. Go frighten someone else."
"Oh, a thousand pardons, but I can't do that," Terry said. "You see, I've made some plans for myself and the crew. They're just kicking off, and I can't have you two simpletons trying to interfere with them."
"What plans?" Vince said. "Making everything wet? This is England. We've based our entire culture on bad weather. You think we don't know how to deal with rain?"
Terry smiled horribly. "That's only the first step. I have so much more planned."
"Not when Naboo works his magic. Then it's all over for you."
Terry snorted. "Not if he doesn't have his precious book. And I've hid it somewhere no one will ever, ever find it."
Howard stopped whimpering for a minute. He poked his head in between Vince's legs. "Wait, you've got the book? But you didn't destroy it? Even though it's the one thing that could stop you? Why didn't you just set it on fire or rip it up? Why go to the trouble of hiding it?"
"Well, it's bloody well magicked, isn't it!" Terry snapped. "I went at that stupid thing with a chisel and no dice. Gave me blisters and everything. Bloody, lousy shamans and their miserable protective wards. The most I could do was hide it."
"What if you forget where you put it?" Vince said. "You'll be retracing your steps all day. Looking under the settee cushions or in the fridge. You'll feel a right prat."
"Enough about the fucking book!" Terry roared. He readjusted his helmet. "I've had a charming time, morons, but I'm afraid there's a meeting of some shamans that the crew and I just can't miss. As for you two -"
"Don't kill us," Howard said. "We've got so much to give."
Terry shook his head. "No, I've got other plans for you. And…say hello to Charlie for me, won't you?" He thrust his arms out and the shop was filled with blinding light.
Howard blinked and found himself in a chair. Vince's long damp hair was tickling the back of his neck. There was an overwhelming smell of sugar and mildew in the air.
Once his vision had cleared, he saw that he was bound back-to-back with Vince. Their bodies were bound with wide pink rope. The walls were lined with halogen strips that let off a watery yellow light. There was mud under Howard's shoes and the pipes over his head were dripping with a steady echo. Howard said, "Vince? All right?"
"Awright, Howard," Vince said. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," Howard said. "Some underground villain lair. There's always an underground villain lair."
"Looks like an abandoned Tube station," Vince said.
"It might very well be."
"Can you move?"
Howard attempted to move. The rope bit into his chest. "A little."
"Are we trapped here, Howard?"
"I'm afraid so, little man."
"Oh," Vince said. "This rope smells a bit weird, doesn't it? A bit sweet."
"It does, doesn't it?"
"I think -" Vince twisted about. After a minute Howard heard him chewing softly. "It's bubblegum, Howard."
"Bubblegum?"
"Bubblegum." Vince cracked a mouthful and resumed chewing. After a minute Howard stood up, brushing sticky pink stuff off his front.
Vince spit out a giant pink wad of gum and turned to Howard. "What do we do now, Howard?"
"We've got to get out of here," Howard said. "Terry's going after Naboo and the other shamen. We've got to stop him. I wish we knew where he hid that book. Is your phone working?"
Vince dug in his pocket and brought out his phone. "I've got no signal."
"We've got to get somewhere with reception. Then you can ring Naboo to warn him and we can keep looking for the book. Maybe we should follow the pipes. They've got to lead somewhere."
"It's not like we have a choice, do we?" Vince said.
The halogen strips along the walls didn't give off much light, but it was better than nothing. The pipes on the ceiling stretched on for what seemed like miles, curving around corners and constantly dripping.
Vince said, "What happens when we get to the end and there's nothing there? Do we just turn around and go the other way?"
"Either that or wait to die."
"Thanks, Sunshine Pete. Perked me right up."
"We are in a life-or-death situation here, Vince. Can't very well be dropping quips and bon mots about the place, can I?"
"No, but -" Vince rounded a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh."
"What? What is it?"
"Howard," Vince said. "I've found Charlie."
Part 2 is here.
Title: Halloween Special OF DOOM 2017, part 3
Word Count: ~1400
Warnings: None.
There didn't seem to be a point in standing in the rain, so they both dashed into the dark entryway of the shop. Howard pushed the door and it opened with an audible groan. The inside of the shop was even darker than the entryway.
"Do we even know what this book looks like?" Howard asked. "Has it got a name on?"
Vince didn't answer. His mouth was angry but his eyes were hurt, and it made Howard very confused.
"Oh, so it's the silent treatment for Howard Moon, is it?" Howard said. "Well, that's just fine, sir. I don't need any of your help. I'm not going to talk to you either. This is me giving you my patented cold shoulder. Cold as ice. Cold as the heart of a Shropshire badger. Cold as…"
"I thought you weren't talking to me," Vince snapped.
"I'm not," Howard said. "Let's just go find this book and then I suppose Naboo'll find some way to get your horrid pink bubble mate back. Just leave me out of it when he does."
"I don't know why I should, considering this is all your fault."
"Just help me find the book, all right?"
Vince stepped into the shop and turned on the lights. There was a crackle and a buzz before the shop was filled with a flickering yellow glow. Inside the shop, the floor was covered with tattered yellow shag that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. Boxes of empty-eyed baby dolls and Halloween masks lined the walls. There were cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and dust swirling in the air. Howard though that surely this couldn't be up to code.
"I'll start on one end if you take the other," Howard said. Vince shrugged and turned his back. He walked off into the shadows of the shop while Howard squared his shoulders and started going through boxes.
Howard thought that this task could go faster if they made up a crimp about it, or if Vince stopped being angry at him. Why did Vince like Charlie so much anyway? Charlie didn't even talk, or like jazz, or make tea, or anything. Maybe he should have written a book where Vince got married to Charlie, if he liked him so much. Then Vince would've been sorry. He'd have begged Howard to write Charlie off. He'd realize that he needed Howard then.
He wished Vince would talk to him.
He'd been going through boxes for what seemed like forever, and he still hadn't found Naboo's book. All he could find was old clothes and soft toys. He pushed the box he'd just finished aside and started on the next one.
Outside, there was a huge crack of thunder. The floor split open and a hand shot from the ground, wrapping around Howard's wrist. The fingers were wizened and a sickly shade of purple. Howard screamed.
"Howard!" he heard behind him, and then Vince was there and pulling him back, out of the hand's grip. "Howard, what is it?"
The crack in the floor widened and two obscenely long arms emerged. The skin was pulled taut over the tendons and mottled. Before Howard or Vince could do anything, a squat, lumpy head emerged, great red eyes staring and staring, with a mouth full of huge, grinning teeth.
"Terry," Vince whispered.
"So this is the famous Howard," Terry said, heaving himself out of the floor. He leaned down and picked his motorcycle helmet out of the hole before balancing it on his head at a jaunty angle. "I suppose I have you to thank for bringing me into the world. Can't tell you how happy I am to be back."
"You leave him alone," Vince said. Howard was hiding behind Vince's legs and whimpering. "We've got things to do, Terry. Go frighten someone else."
"Oh, a thousand pardons, but I can't do that," Terry said. "You see, I've made some plans for myself and the crew. They're just kicking off, and I can't have you two simpletons trying to interfere with them."
"What plans?" Vince said. "Making everything wet? This is England. We've based our entire culture on bad weather. You think we don't know how to deal with rain?"
Terry smiled horribly. "That's only the first step. I have so much more planned."
"Not when Naboo works his magic. Then it's all over for you."
Terry snorted. "Not if he doesn't have his precious book. And I've hid it somewhere no one will ever, ever find it."
Howard stopped whimpering for a minute. He poked his head in between Vince's legs. "Wait, you've got the book? But you didn't destroy it? Even though it's the one thing that could stop you? Why didn't you just set it on fire or rip it up? Why go to the trouble of hiding it?"
"Well, it's bloody well magicked, isn't it!" Terry snapped. "I went at that stupid thing with a chisel and no dice. Gave me blisters and everything. Bloody, lousy shamans and their miserable protective wards. The most I could do was hide it."
"What if you forget where you put it?" Vince said. "You'll be retracing your steps all day. Looking under the settee cushions or in the fridge. You'll feel a right prat."
"Enough about the fucking book!" Terry roared. He readjusted his helmet. "I've had a charming time, morons, but I'm afraid there's a meeting of some shamans that the crew and I just can't miss. As for you two -"
"Don't kill us," Howard said. "We've got so much to give."
Terry shook his head. "No, I've got other plans for you. And…say hello to Charlie for me, won't you?" He thrust his arms out and the shop was filled with blinding light.
Howard blinked and found himself in a chair. Vince's long damp hair was tickling the back of his neck. There was an overwhelming smell of sugar and mildew in the air.
Once his vision had cleared, he saw that he was bound back-to-back with Vince. Their bodies were bound with wide pink rope. The walls were lined with halogen strips that let off a watery yellow light. There was mud under Howard's shoes and the pipes over his head were dripping with a steady echo. Howard said, "Vince? All right?"
"Awright, Howard," Vince said. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," Howard said. "Some underground villain lair. There's always an underground villain lair."
"Looks like an abandoned Tube station," Vince said.
"It might very well be."
"Can you move?"
Howard attempted to move. The rope bit into his chest. "A little."
"Are we trapped here, Howard?"
"I'm afraid so, little man."
"Oh," Vince said. "This rope smells a bit weird, doesn't it? A bit sweet."
"It does, doesn't it?"
"I think -" Vince twisted about. After a minute Howard heard him chewing softly. "It's bubblegum, Howard."
"Bubblegum?"
"Bubblegum." Vince cracked a mouthful and resumed chewing. After a minute Howard stood up, brushing sticky pink stuff off his front.
Vince spit out a giant pink wad of gum and turned to Howard. "What do we do now, Howard?"
"We've got to get out of here," Howard said. "Terry's going after Naboo and the other shamen. We've got to stop him. I wish we knew where he hid that book. Is your phone working?"
Vince dug in his pocket and brought out his phone. "I've got no signal."
"We've got to get somewhere with reception. Then you can ring Naboo to warn him and we can keep looking for the book. Maybe we should follow the pipes. They've got to lead somewhere."
"It's not like we have a choice, do we?" Vince said.
The halogen strips along the walls didn't give off much light, but it was better than nothing. The pipes on the ceiling stretched on for what seemed like miles, curving around corners and constantly dripping.
Vince said, "What happens when we get to the end and there's nothing there? Do we just turn around and go the other way?"
"Either that or wait to die."
"Thanks, Sunshine Pete. Perked me right up."
"We are in a life-or-death situation here, Vince. Can't very well be dropping quips and bon mots about the place, can I?"
"No, but -" Vince rounded a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh."
"What? What is it?"
"Howard," Vince said. "I've found Charlie."