The Conference - A Halloween Story

"I don't know if it is belief or the force of emotions," a strange voice crackled, "but I am healthy and... ... powerful."

Everyone suddenly opened a wide path as a ball of fire rolled to the front of the group. The front of the ball had the shape of a human skull that somehow remained in the front as the ball rolled. When it got to the front, it stopped and two arms emerged from the fire.

"I am obviously," it began, "Bola de Fuego. They know of me throughout all of South America. They think that I am attracted to prayer, but that is not the case. I am just a jokester who gets a laugh... and power... when someone is so overcome with anger that they switch from godtalk to cursing in the blink of an eye. When they really get to cursing-- as can be done best in the Spanish language-- I start laughing so hard that I have to leave to keep from putting myself out." He paused before continuing, "Maybe that is why they think that cursing will drive me away."

The ball slowly turned completely around to stare at everyone with its empty skull-like eyes. "No sex," it said flatly, "no taking of life, just anger, or perhaps humor is what gives me power."

"Do people remember you in between times that you appear?" Merlin asked.

"Oh, they remember," it said rapidly. "Even if they don't actually believe in me, they remember who I am. If a man-- or a woman-- is caught cussing by their spouse or their mother or the village priest, they will say, 'I was driving away La Bola de Fuego, did you not see it?'"

"Does that work?" someone from the crowd asked.

"A man will believe his wife much easier than a wife her husband or a mother her son," the ball of fire said flatly, "but they still say it."

"So," the Blob who was in charge of the meeting said, "we have sex and power and money and belief and curses and the outright stealing of life and anger and laughter and...?"

"I don't know if this is sex or anger or frustration," a strange, high-pitched voice said as something slithered to the front. A snake-like being with an oriental-looking face raised itself up and continued, "I am Jimamushi Nyūdō, people believe that I live under the floorboards of their houses in Japan. In the old days, they thought that it was I who slithered into their rooms while they weren't looking and snuffed out their lamps with my long tongue."

He stood up even stiffer and taller. "That was once true," he continued, "but I wasn't just being mischievous. I needed the darkness for other things... like slipping into the beds of the wives and maidens and feasting between their legs." His enormous, forked tongue flickered out to its full length. "With this," he said, "I can do anything from creating a slight tickle to taking a woman to places she didn't even know existed." His face formed a snakey-looking leer as he said proudly, "I'm one of the reasons that many Japanese women today don't want to get married. Why give me up for some limp-dicked husband that can only satisfy her once or twice a month when they aren't dead tired from working all the time."

A second Jimamushi Nyūdō joined him at the front. "There are also," it said slyly, "many men who don't mind getting their assholes licked as they try to sleep in those little caskets they call sleep rooms in Tokyo and other big cities. Some even enjoy it when I thrust my tongue all the way into their cute little asses."

"Different strokes for different folks," the first Jimamushi Nyūdō said brusquely. "But in any case, be it frustration or sex or whatever, we Jimamushi Nyūdō are healthy and strong."

"Again," said Merlin, "how do people remember you?"

"It is hard to forget a night with a Jimamushi Nyūdō," the first snake demon said with a laugh.

"But some remember us when we weren't even there," said the second. "Whenever a woman has a particularly erotic dream, she says-- or at least thinks-- 'The Jimamushi Nyūdō came to me last night.'"

"Thank you," Merlin said firmly.

A gigantic, hairy man pushed his way through the crowd and lumbered forward to where Merlin stood. He didn't seem all that intelligent as he turned and looked around the room. "Many of you know me," his voice boomed out. "I am Genderuwo. No one speaks of me publicly, but the women whisper about me in the corners and the shadows. I seek out lonely women who have been neglected by their husbands or widows who miss a man's touch, and I seduce them."

He chuckled a deep, rumbling chuckle. "How do I do that looking like this?" you ask. "I know that I am big and ugly and not as smart as someone like Merlin, but I have my own magic."

He exhaled a deep breath that seemed to hang in a violet-tinged cloud before his face. "Once I breathe my spell on them," he said firmly, "no woman can resist me. And once I have pounded my massive member into them, no woman regrets having been seduced by me. Some even beg me to return... and that is not a result of my magic... unless you consider THIS magic."

He held up a huge prick that even in its flaccid state looked way too massive for any woman to accept. As he held his prick, he attempted to smile, but it came out as a crooked leer. Then he said, "Sometimes I even impregnate them and they give birth to another Genderuwo. All of that keeps us strong and keeps our numbers up."

"That is once again the power of magic... I think," the Blob blubbered, "but it looks like you do get some power from your... from your... strength... and the stories whispered about you in the corners by the women of the village."

"Whatever," the lumbering giant said as he walked back into the crowd.

A young, healthy-looking woman dressed entirely in black stepped forward. The paleness of her skin was made even more striking by the brightness of the red on her lips and the deepness of the black in which she was dressed. Her eyebrows looked like two black slashes on the snow. Her eyes were like shining lumps of black coal with the hint of fire burning in them. "I have grown strong while many of you have grown weak," she began, "by something new and modern."

She looked around. "We must adapt to the times," she said. "Witches like me no longer stir cauldrons on the mountaintops and call down curses from the sky. We-- those of us who are left-- have found a new source of power."

An excited roar of monster murmuring rolled through the crowd. When it had diminished, a tall, skinny woman with long, long, yellow fingernails stepped forward. She looked healthy, but... tired. "Tell us, Sybil," she began, "what this new power is. We Pisadeira need something new. In the past, when a person ate too much or drank too much, I would wake them from their sleep and they would find themselves paralyzed with me sitting on their chest leering down at them." She held her thin arms around her body and shivered as she said, "Ooohhh, the fear that would be in their eyes. It could feed me for weeks... or even months." Her arms dropped to her sides and she said, "But modern medicine has pushed into almost all the dark places of Brazil, and now the doctors tell the people that it is just an awake dream and give them pills to help them sleep." She slowly walked back into the crowd, her shoulders slumped, her arms hanging at her sides so that her overly-long yellow fingernails dragged on the ground.

A strange bat-like creature with one, large eye flew shakily forward. "I am a Popobawa," it squeaked out. "I sneak into rooms at night and seduce young women... or men," it continued. "But most people fear me for something I do not do. The people of Zanzibar once believed that I could take the shape of a man or even many men and invade a household and rape everyone. They thought that I, in man form, would then order them to tell everyone what I had done or the Popobawa would come back."

The bat being wrapped its wings around itself as if crying and then finally said, "I gained great power from their fear and the fear their stories stirred in others, but modern police techniques have started tracking down these thugs who do this-- worse monsters than any of us here-- and arresting them. Now the people tell the police what happened. Few still believe in me. Even the virgins I seduce think it was just a dream and that I do not exist. If we do not find a new source of power, the Popobawa will soon be gone."

A strange, octopus-like being slithered forward on its tentacles. "I am remembered primarily for my strange name," he said in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. "The people of rural Maryland often speak of going out looking for the Snallygaster. They called me the Schneller Geist, the "quick ghost", back in the old country, but now I have this ridiculous name that has no meaning. The stories say I eat chickens and children, but I have never eaten a child."

He slumped down on his tentacles and said sadly, "There were once many of us roaming the land. All of the parents would warn their children, 'Don't stray away or the Snallygaster will get you.' The children believed in me! But no more. Now I am the last of our kind, remembered only in practical jokes as people trick newcomers into going out looking for me." His voice trailed off as he slithered back into the crowd.

"Young witch," Merlin said forcefully, "tell us your secret."

"I am not young," she replied. "I am as old as you, or perhaps even older, but I have renewed myself with the awesome power I have discovered."

"Tell us what it is!" the Blob thundered. "What is your secret source of power?"

"You have already surmised the sources of our power," she said slowly. "Our power comes from belief and from sex and from fear and from magic and from laughter and from money and from anything else that fosters belief." She leaned slightly forward and looked intently around the room. "I," she said loudly, "have found a time and place where all of those things come together in a single night. It is a night where you can find enough power to fill you for years."

She stood fully upright and said calmly, "It is called Halloween. On the last day of October, humans dress up as monsters or heros or witches or sexy nymphs of one sort or another. They drink and revel into the night. And during this time called Halloween..." She paused and then shouted, "THEY BELIEVE IN ME!!!!"

Her voice echoed throughout the hall. Then there was silence. A frail voice spoke from the crowd, "But how can we get them to believe in us like they believe in you?"

"There are two ways," she said calmly, sweeping her hand across the crowd. "The first way is to just show up at a Halloween party. People at these parties are already primed with images of things strange and wonderful and scary and perhaps sexy or humorous. They are ready to believe because of all of the decorations and the alcohol and their hopes of sex and everything else that goes with Halloween today.

If you look close enough to being human, you could just come as if you were an invited guest. They will go nuts trying to guess who you are. Then when they finally demand that you unmask, say who you are and appear in your full horribleness... or just disappear... or start throwing fire all over the place... or whatever you can imagine that will imprint your image into their memories." She laughed and said, "Or, if you have a body like mine, you could just take everything off and offer to couple with anyone there. Trust me, whatever you do, they will remember you and believe in you for weeks or months or even years."

"But what about us who can't blend in with humans?" a strange voice croaked out.

"Then show up anyway!" the witch said with a laugh. "Scare the hell out of them and they will remember you and believe in you."

"But how will they know who we are?" the voice continued.

"Ah," the witch said, "that is where the second way comes in. There are a lot of sites that post stories at Halloween. Some even have contests about them. Use your power to find people who write these stories. Have them write stories with lots of sex and violence and power and humor and riches so people will read them. And in those stories be sure that they mention your name as many times as possible. If that is done, then for all the time that a person is reading that story-- and perhaps for days or weeks afterwards-- they will believe in you!

That's what I've done. When you read the stories of Halloween and Halloween parties you will see how often witches are mentioned... sexy witches... evil witches... beautiful witches... powerful witches... extremely wealthy witches... they are all there. And every time someone reads one of those stories we witches gain power."

She took a deep breath and sighed as if she had just finished a succulent drink, then she looked out again at the crowd and said, "Another witch story has been posted somewhere."

"So what you mean," Merlin said, "is that someone should tell the story of what has happened here at this meeting? And then that writer should warn people that perhaps not all of the marvelous disguises at this year's Halloween parties will actually be disguises." He laughed lightly and said, "That writer should warn them that some of us will be showing up as ourselves." He laughed again and said, "I like that idea! It's been a long time since I've been to a really good party."

"That is exactly what I mean," the witch said, flashing her beautiful smile. "We need the story of this conference told. We need the stories of our lives and our exploits told." She spun around to face Merlin and said forcefully, "And I know exactly who I can get to write that story. He owes me a couple of favors for showing him some of the more... interesting... aspects of our magical world."

"Meeting adjourned!" boomed the deep bass voice of the Blob. "Let's go party."

***

And that, my dear readers is how... and where I continue to get the inspiration for some of my Halloween stories.

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