It’s that time of year again. The spell of the fall season has been cast upon us. For the very first leaf to fall reminds you of the terror that lies before us: a holiday, whose name is unspeakable. A holiday that unleashes evil unto the streets. A holiday that summons the most wretched and nauseating of creatures. A holiday that ignites the kind of bloodcurdling horror that could send chills running up your spine. A hand reaches from the grave, grasping for vengeance. A werewolf howls in the distance, emerging from the darkened, mysterious forest. But the fear is just beginning. You’re surrounded, trapped by everything: mummies, witches, skeletons, ghosts, vampires, elections! It’s enough to make you mad. This is Halloween.
Last Halloween, our continuing story halted with a number of unresolved storylines – but not to worry, we will resume where we left off! So let us return to our monsters, whose futures are uncertain as the majority of them are held in an isolated, top-notch FBI incarceration center, with their only hopes being Count Dracula, living in Transylvania after fleeing America in 2019, and Dr. Wilfred Glendon, the Wolf Man, who had temporarily left the monsters to go on an unknown expedition. But, more could be at risk than just the monsters, as the crazed bio-exorcist Beetlejuice has returned to Halloween Town with his cronies Pennywise the Dancing Clown and Slappy the Dummy.
What could be coming next?
Halloween V: Part One
London, October 19, 2021, 2:15 A.M. (12 Days Before Halloween)
A Monday night in England. Lights illuminated the desolate downtown, unoccupied, unattended, completely dead. Dim lamps and candles shone from inside the local shops, showcasing charming pumpkin displays and ghoulish decorations. Silence was the sole noise occupying the deserted area.
However, a distant note could suddenly be lightly heard. It gradually grew from quiet to perceptible, approaching closer by the second. Footsteps.
A man walked warily down the street, his hat brim pulled down over his shadowed face. The only sound now echoing from the square was his feet on the sidewalk. It was clear that this stranger was not simply wandering about; he had a destination.
The mysterious character continued down his path, making a handful of turns along the way. His journey soon took him to a large, mildly intimidating mansion that, while still part of a neighborhood, was rather isolated from the rest of the city. Stopping to briefly examine the estate, the individual took out a slip of paper which read: “1886 Stevenson Court”. Having confirmed that the addresses corresponded, the man advanced toward the residence and gently tapped on the door five times.
It was almost immediately opened. An elderly servant stood in the entryway, still in his formal outfit.
The visitor discreetly stepped into the grand house. There was a rare or expensive decoration everywhere the eye could see. Each furniture piece looked like it had been bought at an underground black market auction – that’s how striking they were.
“Follow me,” the butler gestured. He led the house guest through the manor and out the back door. Though balding and frail with a worn voice, the assistant had a kind spirit about him, like that of a cheerful janitor.
The client was taken out to the massive backyard, where a cottage of sorts resided. The butler stopped at the door and said, “Here we are.”
The unknown man spoke for the first time. “Thank you, Mister, uh . . . ?”
“Poole,” replied the servant. “You’re welcome, sir.”
With that, Mr. Poole returned back to the house, leaving the visitor at the door to the cottage. But before he could even knock, a voice from inside calmly said, “Please enter.”
Just a bit taken aback, the man opened the door and walked in.
It was almost totally dark, with a singular lit candle being the only light in the cabin. Not even the shades were opened so moonlight could pour in.
Suddenly, a lamp flickered on, showcasing the hut’s interior. It was all one room, a large office, though it maintained a similar comfortable sense as the mansion. The lamp and candle sat on the desk, and behind the desk sat . . . Dr. Henry Jekyll, who was being visited by none other than Dr. Wilfred Glendon.
Dr. Glendon was no ordinary medical practitioner. Though he was often described as personable, pleasant, and jolly, terms such as beast, mutant, and ogre seemed to be the adjectives most used during other times of the month. For Dr. Glendon . . . was a werewolf.
The Cornell graduate had first begun transforming into a werewolf in 1995, when he was twenty-seven. The transformation originated from a bite Glendon endured from a wolf during the night of a full moon. Since then, he was careful to protect others from his nightmarish alter ego. Each month, when the night of the full moon came, he would retreat deep into the woods and bury himself in a highly blockaded underground cave, with the complex route of escape only known by the human Glendon, therefore trapping the bloodthirsty werewolf until the next morning, when the reverse transformation would occur. However, in May of 2017, the barbaric creature found a way out. The Wolf Man freed himself from bondage and leapt from the cave, as dangerous and wicked as ever. He quickly found his way into the town and listened to his basic instinct: attack! Thirteen people were injured, and more carnage would have ensued if the varmint hadn’t been quickly scared off by shotguns and axes. For the residential area in which Glendon lived wasn’t the . . . classiest of communities.
When Glendon awoke the next morning outside of the cave, he knew something must have gone wrong. He swiftly discovered the rumors about sightings of a “large walking dog with a six-pack”. He instantly packed up and travelled as far away as possible, where he was soon graced by the arrival of . . . Lord Dreadful.
Dr. Glendon knew the visit couldn’t lead to much good when an incredibly thin, tall man all in black with a gray, wrinkled, scarred face entered his apartment. Well, long story short, he was right. Lord Dreadful or, as he eccentrically preferred to be called, “Lord Cuteness”, told Glendon about a plan he was forming for Halloween of that year in which a group of “monsters” would gather to attack cities across the globe, capturing children and adults alike. Their goal? As Dreadful called it, “The dawn of a new era. We will be . . . immortals.”
Whatever Dreadful was referring to, Glendon didn’t like it. He humbly declined the offer, but Dreadful didn’t leave. Instead, he conjured a spell that cursed Glendon and forced him to remain in werewolf form for as long as Dreadful desired and do as Dreadful cruelly requested. Dreadful then took this Wolf Man with him to Monster Manor, where he became an addition to the “monster mash” that Dreadful assembled: Count Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster, Witch Miriam, Wizard Marius, Skeleton, Jack O’Lantern, and the Invisible Man.
That Halloween, the Wolf Man aided in Dreadful’s master plan to abduct hundreds, if not thousands, of children and adults. The hideous overlord planned to suck them of their youth, sustaining himself for hundreds more years, while repaying the monsters by providing them a sanctuary where they would not be tormented by the outside world.
The monsters hit one city before the operation was shut down, as the creatures involuntarily let the first batch of villagers escape Monster Manor, Dreadful became irate and disintegrated Frankenstein, Witch Miriam, and the Wolf Man himself.
Being a creation of little intelligence, the Wolf Man believed himself dead when he subsequently appeared in an unknown room, where he was surrounded by gold. Soon, he discovered that he was being imprisoned by a mysterious force even more sinister than Lord Dreadful. He remained there for a year, being studied and forced to perform laborious works.
The Wolf Man gained some hope to escape his incarceration when he, Witch Miriam, and Frankenstein (the latter two had also been disintegrated in 2017) were transferred to a new facility in an isolated part of New York State, called “Eerie Estate” on Halloween 2018. However, this “lair” was even more intricate, and designed specially to keep the prisoners from fleeing. That same night, Jack O’Lantern and Skeleton appeared out of thin air at this new mansion, and underwent a similar immediate imprisonment process to the Wolf Man and Witch Miriam. Later that night, Count Dracula arrived on a giant green dragon (who later turned out to be a cursed Wizard Marius) with a kidnapped Invisible Man, who was also jailed along with Marius. Though Dracula and the mysterious force, commonly referred to as “Master”, attempted to keep everything that had occurred the past two Halloweens under wraps (not to imply that Master was a mummy), the Invisible Man informed the Wolf Man, Frankenstein, and Witch Miriam that Dreadful had been chased off by and succeeded by Dracula the year prior, but the count’s reign was even more vicious. He laid out a similar plan for that year’s Halloween, but it was botched when Pennywise the Dancing Clown, a one-time recruit, failed to capture the requested number of children. After Pennywise escaped Dracula’s wrath, the monsters revolted, but were unable to overcome Dracula’s centuries-old power, and thus were sent to Eerie Estate, where they would be kept in case needed for another mission. The Wolf Man was able to comprehend this information, as he had gained a heightened sense of intelligence over the past year.
The Wolf Man and his fellow companions remained at Eerie Estate for another year, but that all changed during the Halloween of 2019. Wizard Marius’ sorcery grew in strength, and he was able to break them all out of their claustrophobic cells. They then banded together with Dracula to defeat Slappy the Dummy, his wicked army, and Dracula and Dreadful’s collective “Master”, who turned out to be Chucky the Doll – but in actuality was truly a disguised Beetlejuice, though not a single soul was yet aware of that . . . at least in the realm to which Wolf Man and the others resided.
Now everything was back to normal. Lord Dreadful had been defeated. Slappy had been defeated. Master had been defeated. Dracula had changed. Now the Wolf Man could revert back to his human form . . . or could he? Dreadful had gained his powers from a supernatural synchrony with Master, allowing Master’s powers to flow through Dreadful. This meant that the Wolf Man’s curse truly meant that he would remain in monster from for as long as Master desired. But Master was dead . . . wasn’t he? This baffled everyone, especially the Invisible Man, who studied the perplexing curse and deducted that Master was still alive.
But, this was not the main problem for the Wolf Man. His sole issue was that he was to remain in werewolf form for awhile longer; Count Dracula was incapable of reversing the spell’s effects. The vampire had been gravely injured during the Halloween battle at Eerie Estate, and had used the practical remainder of his magic to curse out Slappy the Dummy. He was still reeling from the aftermath of the battle’s effects, recuperating to regain his strength and help the Wolf Man. However, plans, as they often did, changed when an incident provoked Dracula to flee Eerie Estate in bat form, never to be seen thereafter. It seemed as though the Wolf Man was damned for life.
That was until the evening of September 21, 2021, almost two years later. It was the night after the full moon. The Wolf Man was out prowling the woods behind Horrifying Hall, the monsters’ new home, which was located in the middle of basically nowhere as to avoid being tracked down by the FBI. The woods were completely quiet until . . . a voice.
It was a deep, gritty, unnatural voice. When the Wolf Man turned around, before him stood a . . . something. Was it an unattractive clown? Maybe a revolting ghost? Or just a grotesque goblin? Even the Wolf Man was baffled, and he had seen a lot of disturbing creatures. Whatever this freak was, it was indeed hideous. Over its grimy, oily, misshapen body dwelled a layer of thick, pasty, peeling sheet white skin. Its smile was as hideous as the remainder of its stringy, wild green hair over its disgusting, rotting, balding head. A coat of green grease dripped from its hair, face, and body, staining the red Hawaiian shirt and oversized button-up coat it donned. Finally, placed over its head was a rather large cap that said “GUIDE”. Everything about this . . . thing was simply repulsive; except for the Converse Chuck Taylors he wore, which were in mint condition.
The Wolf Man, having been in hiding and not used to seeing a non-trustworthy monster, instantly fled. One would think the inverse would’ve occurred, but having to be shielded from any other life prompted the “flight” response in the Wolf Man. However, his escape was cut short when he suddenly felt the inability to, well . . . move. This was when he realized that he was frozen in midair. He was a subject of the Paralyzing Curse.
The Wolf Man’s foul offender quickly bound over to the frightened beast, skipping along as though it were a cheerful schoolgirl. It stopped less than an inch from the Wolf Man’s face, making bothersome silly faces – it was an even more appalling creation up close. Once done operating its facial features in unsettling ways, its head spun around like a top, rotating so rapidly the Wolf Man could feel a breeze brush against his face. After getting bored whirling its noggin about in circles, it decided to move onto the next activity for playtime: it danced around while sticking its tongue out, putting on a show for the werewolf that, as a Broadway show, would almost certainly appeal to those that wished to inflict intense psychological torment unto themselves.
Finally, the creature stopped. But what happened next was even worse. . . . It calmly walked up to the Wolf Man and, once close enough, leaned back, worked up some mucus . . . and spit on the monster.
And oh, did the Wolf Man see it coming. The slimy glob hurled through the air, seemingly in slow-motion, casually and almost methodically approaching its aim . . . and it hit. The ice cold green saliva hit the Wolf Man and slowly ran down its face, leaving a mark so mentally scarring that it could never be washed off, no matter how much cerebral soap one applied. The “spitter” rolled on the floor, roaring with laughter.
The Wolf Man wished more than anything to break free of its uncomfortable form and attack his offender, but it was impossible with the power that his enemy held over him.
“You’re an easy target!” cackled the perpetrator. “FYI, you’ll need to live in the bath for a week!“
After its fit of laughter ended, the maniac hopped up onto the ground and casually said, “Now let’s do this thing.”
Suddenly, a storm cloud rolled over the forest. The ground shook, bringing down loose tree branches. Lightning struck and hit the unknown weirdo, who suddenly exerted nothing but power. It conjured up a spell and shot green light out of its hands, which shot the Wolf Man. This broke the mutant out of the Paralyzing Curse, landing him on the ground. However, an unexplained weakness and extreme sense of fear engulfed the werewolf, preventing him from standing or even moving. He laid on the ground, shaking and howling while the evil sorcerer watched on, laughing. But this wasn’t the worst part for the Wolf Man. He could feel something he hadn’t experienced in years. He was . . . transforming.
Shrinking was the first manifestation. The Wolf Man gradually withered from his beastly form to that of a typical human size. His thick hair all across his body began disappearing, while his sharp teeth changed to that of a homo sapiens’ chompers. His long, pointy ears twisted into a different shape, and his muscles drastically reduced. He let out one last howl before . . . he was gone. The Werewolf Man was out, Dr. Wilfred Glendon was in.
Or an extremely feeble, sickly, and drained version of Dr. Wilfred Glendon, so weak he could barely lift an eyelid; radically changed from the last time he was seen. A thick layer of unkept hair practically clothed him, mostly thanks to his new massive, untamed beard. He was also severely thin, his ribcage and other bones clearly visible. He was no Wolf Man.
Dr. Glendon dimly saw what appeared to be the crazed wizard-of-sorts wildly jumping around in glee, eventually busting a move that Glendon recognized as “the Worm”. It sped over to Glendon and lifted his eyelid, pressing his eyeball up against its. It screamed, “IT WORKED!!!”, then kicked Glendon, who rolled over.
The ghoul reached into its coat pocket and remarked to Glendon, “You might wanna cover yerself up, Mr. Duck Dynasty,” then threw a speedo at him. “Oh,” it continued, “and tell your friends I said . . . hi.” It belted out its signature cackle, then moved its fingers about in a circular pattern; soon, a portal appeared in front of it.
“Let’s do this again sometime, Wolfy! Until then, buh-bye!” It roared with sinister laughter, hopped into the “doorway”, and disappeared along with the portal, leaving Glendon alone to shiver and pass out.
Until . . .
Glendon could . . . feel again. He slowly became aware of his existence once more. He opened his eyes . . . he was awoken.
But he was more confused than ever. He clearly recognized that he was clothed and shaved in a grandiose bed located in a rather bleak room. Eggshell-colored walls, the wooden floor, a small flat-screen TV, and a tea station set up on a nearby table were all that the room had to offer. Glendon observed all this while frightfully asking dozens of questions to himself in his head. “Where am I?” “How much time has passed?” “Who found me?” “Who transformed me back into a human?”
Dr. Glendon looked at everything intently, searching for any indication of what could be happening. He was able to control his fear somewhat . . . until he saw something unexplainable.
The tea kettle on the table was moving, almost floating in midair. It appeared to lift itself up and pour tea into one of the tea cups. It set itself down. Then the tea cup moved, too! It came up a few feet in the air, turned at angle, and stopped . . . but Glendon could see the tea almost disappearing from the cup. It was if someone was drinking from it . . . an invisible someone.
Glendon considered the possibility that potential pain medication he had perhaps been given was causing hallucinations, but he knew this was too real to be fake. The tea cup was set down, and more was poured in from the kettle. Upon continuing to see this, Glendon shrieked.
The tea cup fell from the air and shattered. Glendon could hear another voice screaming over his. After a few seconds of this, the door slammed open and monsters of varying terrorization degrees entered the room. First came a creation unlike anything Glendon had ever beheld – the body of a very thin human with a massive pumpkin for a head: Jack O’Lantern. Next entered what appeared to be the structure of a common body, except without the flesh, blood, or muscle: Skeleton. Subsequently, a rather unattractive green-skinned woman shot into the room on a flying broomstick: Witch Miriam. Following her was an elderly man with a long grey beard donning an oversized hat and colorful robes: Wizard Marius, the least abhorrent of the creatures. And just when Glendon believed the horror to be over, one final monster completed its path to the doorway – a ghastly and appalling sight, it was a nine-foot-tall creation, green and scarred, with bolts prodding out of its neck, sticking its arms out as it lurched forward: Frankenstein’s Monster, which collapsed part of the wall as it entered. Additionally, there was indeed an Invisible Man present in the room, as evidenced by the stains of tea that were floating in midair.
Utterly and completely terror-stricken, Dr. Glendon crawled out of his bed and landed on the floor. However, he was more frail than he first realized. The blow to the ground hurt like (*censored to keep the PG rating*)! He yelled out in pain and squirmed over to the closest window. He knew his plan to jump out would likely kill him, but it was better than being torn apart by these monsters.
Or perhaps not, as Glendon peeked out the window to see he was at least five stories high. After throwing up in his mouth, he grabbed the window cranker, ripped it off, and held it in front of him to . . . defend himself? He was very much working with what he had.
“Stay back, every one of you!” he screeched.
“Puny weapon!” shouted back Frankenstein, approaching Glendon.
“Wait, wait!” another voice interjected. “Everybody STOP!”
Frankenstein stopped walking. Everybody held still, except Glendon, who was quivering out of fear. It became apparent this voice belonged to the Invisible Man.
“Dr. Glendon,” continued the unseen mediator, “we are not here to harm you. We are here to help you. We’ve been taking care of you for the last week.”
Glendon was, in a word, baffled. So filled with questions, he could barely utter a word, but he eventually managed to form a sentence, albeit rather short: “WHO ARE YOU?!”
“Yes,” answered the imperceptible voice, “of course you’re wondering that. We are monsters. Now – “
“Hold the phone,” interrupted Witch Miriam. “Didn’t we agree the ‘M’ word is hurtful. Huh? Heh? Or is it just me?”
“Agreed!” rallied Skeleton. “Just because I’m fleshless doesn’t mean I’m a MONSTER!“
“Preach, my brother!” concurred Jack O’Lantern, who held up his hand for a high-five. Skeleton granted his wish, but at the cost of his own finger and wrist bones falling onto the ground. Skeleton emitted a loud shriek and began reassembling his left hand.
Frankenstein ensured that the “M” word argument lived on, opining, “I thought we all agreed that we’d identify ourselves as the Ragtag Riches? Or do we just completely abandon each other’s ideas?”
“The Ragtag Riches sounds like the name of a failed band from the ’60s,” added Wizard Marius. “But, I do agree, the ‘M’ word is offensive.”
“Alright!” exclaimed the Invisible Man, turning his focus back to the perturbed Dr. Glendon. “We are . . . individuals. With a very particular set of skills . . . “
“Isn’t that from Taken?” muttered Jack O’Lantern.
“. . . skills that make us appear dangerous to the outside world, when in fact we are not. Well, mostly.”
Even though Glendon couldn’t see it, he knew that the Invisible Man was shifting his eyes toward Frankenstein, who was now eating part of the wall he had collapsed.
Glendon was able to calm down enough so he could listen to what the monsters had to say. They explained to him that he had been with them since 2017, for four years, but as the Wolf Man. Witch Miriam had found him in the woods twenty-three hours after he had first gone missing, and took him back to Horrifying Hall, where he had been cared for by Sally, who he learned was a humanoid ragdoll given life by Dr. Finkelstein in Halloween Town – but Halloween Town was a whole other subject. After the events of 2019’s Halloween, Sally decided to stay in the real world and not return to Halloween Town, as she had lost her only friend, Jack Skellington, in the battle at Eerie Estate. But after Count Dracula sucked the blood of a reporter on Thanksgiving 2019 and forever tarnished the monsters’ reputations, she went into hiding away from the FBI, and lived on an abandoned farm not too far from Horrifying Hall, dropping in a few times a month, making her visits scarce so as not to be noticed.
Glendon was caught up to speed on everything that had occurred in the last four years, but it was a lot to take in for someone who literally hadn’t been himself for over 1500 days. He also learned to trust the monsters, who weren’t nearly as malicious as he initially thought.
Over time, he was nursed back to health by Sally, and eventually started walking with a cane. He planned to leave Horrifying Hall in time to search for a cure . . . before the next full moon.
In his time at Horrifying Hall, he learned to enjoy the monsters’ company and converse with them about a variety of topics, including his passion for the atomic bomb. While there, he was also convinced by Skeleton to conduct an experiment on Frankenstein that would hopefully transform him into a less intimidating figure, by wiring his brain to think more like a human and less like the monster he had been regarded as. However, the experiment went terribly wrong, instead causing Frankenstein to slur his speech and talk in minimal and often confusing sentences.
This was proof to Dr. Glendon that he was, for the moment, unable to be where he was five years ago intellectually. The effects of being the Wolf Man for four years were certainly taking a toll on him. He couldn’t help Frankenstein, much less create a cure for himself. He needed help.
Dr. Glendon decided to leave Horrifying Hall on October 15th to go in search of someone who he was told could help with his unfortunate condition. Before he departed, though, he was pulled aside by the Invisible Man, who had begun wrapping himself in toilet paper at the request of Glendon and the monsters.
“Willy,” started Invisible, “I need to ask you one more time: do you remember anything?”
Dr. Glendon searched his memory one more time. “No, I really don’t. It’s all echoes . . . something once in awhile might ring a bell, but other than that, it’s extremely fuzzy.”
“Hmm,” thought the Invisible Man out loud.
There was a pause.
Until Dr. Glendon said, “Except . . . I suppose I haven’t been entirely honest.”
“How so?” inquired the Invisible Man.
“Well,” began Glendon, checking to ensure nobody was eavesdropping, “I do remember somewhat the night that I transformed.”
“What? What do you remember?” The Invisible Man was clearly eager to hear this new update.
“I remember somewhat who . . . transformed me.”
“WHAT?!” shouted the Invisible Man loudly.
“Shh!” shushed Dr. Glendon.
They waited a minute to see if anybody would come check on them. They didn’t. The Invisible Man restarted the conversation.
“You were transformed by somebody? You told us all you simply reverted back to human form for no reason whatsoever.”
“I lied,” admitted Dr. Glendon. “I was concerned that if I told you, something might happen. But I now see that wasn’t the best decision.”
“Well, who was it?” grilled Invisible.
Glendon described what had taken place, revealing all that his mind could remember about the insane assailant (what a nice tongue-twister) who had cursed him in the woods that night. Once finished, the Invisible Man sighed deeply.
The Invisible Man reached into his TP-suit and unveiled a postcard that had been sent in the mail . . . a postcard from Halloween Town. Glendon gave the Invisible Man a worried look and took the card from him, reading what it said on the back:
Hey, Wolfy Boy! Hope yer doin’ alright! I’m doin’ better than ever, thanks fer askin’. Just workin’ on a little . . . plan, per say. Life in Halloween Town is nirvana, baby! (The place, not the band, idiot.) So, just wanted to say: GET WELL, GET WELL SOON, I WANT YOU TO GET WELL. *Maniacal laugh*Love,
Glendon alarmingly turned to the Invisible Man and demanded, “How long have you been hiding this?”
The Invisible Man reluctantly replied, “Over two weeks. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want the monsters to panic, but . . . Master is alive. And he’s Beetlejuice.”
“Gasp!” said Glendon. “Oh, to provide some context, I can’t gasp very well, but a gasp is very clearly needed in certain situations, and I’m just realizing now that that is not the biggest concern. . . . “
“Listen, Willy,” continued Invisible, “let’s keep this between you and me. Beetlejuice is weakened, he can’t try his master plan all over again. The monsters have enough on their plate avoiding the FBI, if we add this, they’ll go cocoa for hot chocolate.”
“I . . . don’t . . . think . . . that’s the . . . whatever,” responded Glendon. “I don’t think this is the best decision. Beetlejuice clearly has a plan, why else would he transform me? But this isn’t my main priority, my sole purpose now is to abolish the beast that dwells within me before he strikes again and I’m gone for . . . perhaps forever.”
With that, Dr. Glendon bid farewell to the monsters and went his own way, traveling incognito in case the FBI had a picture of Glendon or knew his name.
After several plane trips and bus stops, Glendon had arrived in London at the residence of Dr. Henry Jekyll, whom he suspected could help him with his “issue” of sorts.
There he stood in Dr. Jekyll’s cabin, a bit shocked that he had finally made it to his destination.
“Dr. Glendon,” said Dr. Jekyll with a smile as he rose from his desk, “so nice to finally meet you. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair facing his desk.
Dr. Glendon took off his coat and hat, hanging them up, subsequently taking his place in the comfortable chair.
“Thank you for coming,” said Dr. Jekyll cheerfully. A tall, lean, 50-something doctor, Jekyll was extremely well-respected by many for his bizarre but ultimately healing remedies.
“Thanks for having me. Nice abode you have here,” replied Dr. Glendon, his voice now groveled and rough as a result of the exhaustion he’d endured the previous few travel-heavy days. “Pardon my manners, but can we, uh . . . cut to the chase? Tomorrow night is the full moon, which means I could have less than twenty-four hours left in this body.”
“Not to be concerned,” assured Dr. Jekyll. “I’ve looked over your, should we say, problem, and I think I’ve figured out a solution.”
Glendon was thrilled to hear these words. To avoid detection by the FBI, he had written Jekyll letters in code, and Glendon hired a personal private assistant to fly over samples of his DNA and cells to Jekyll across the pond in England. The risks of being discovered by the government were too great to wave off.
“That’s fantastic news, Doctor!” exclaimed Dr. Glendon. “Is this cure ready?”
Dr. Jekyll smiled. “Almost, Dr. Glendon. I must just contribute a few more ingredients before it can be fully prepared. But, not to worry, it will be ready before tomorrow night’s full moon. You won’t be an American werewolf in London.”
Dr. Glendon leaned back and sighed with relief. He was more than ready to purge himself of the horrible monster that had overtaken him for four years. He began to thank Dr. Jekyll, but was interrupted when something suddenly crashed into the cottage, destroying the ceiling and part of its walls.
Glendon fell out of his chair and looked ahead at the rubble and . . . something else, that was merely a few feet from him.
“Glendon, are you okay?!” bellowed the worried. Dr. Jekyll. Glendon lifted his hand and waved to signal he was not injured.
At least for now.
The pile of wreckage and rubble suddenly exploded and flew everywhere, revealing the creature that hid beneath. It slowly stood up, revealing its shocking height – it stood at least ten-feet-tall. Dressed all in black robes, it lifted its long, wrinkled hands up and flipped its hood back.
Dr. Glendon recognized this vile force of nature. It was was a monster.
It was Lord Dreadful.
Glendon backed away as far as he could, and reached inside his coat to pull out a revolver. Fully loaded, he shot it at Dreadful, but it was no use. He dodged the bullets, showed his classic vicious smile, and reached his arm out, grabbing Glendon by the throat. He brought him up to his shriveled, dry, disgusting face and laughed, as evil as ever.
“Hello again . . . Willy.”
Glendon was able to get a few words out: “How . . . find . . . me?”
Dreadful cackled again and pointed with his lengthy, bony finger to where Dr. Jekyll was.
But it was no longer Dr. Jekyll.
It was instead a repugnant, disturbing, horrid beast. Truly a beast, with looks one could not even possibly imagine. Hunched over, short, and rather chunky, it was indeed the complete opposite of Dr. Jekyll.
Lord Dreadful introduced Dr. Glendon. “Meet . . . Mr. Hyde.”
With that, Lord Dreadful opened a portal and stepped through it, Dr. Wilfred Glendon still in hand, with Mr. Edward Hyde following.
Maximum FBI Detainment Center, October 31, 7:00 P.M.
Almost two weeks later, the Invisible Man, Frankenstein’s Monster, Witch Miriam, Wizard Marius, Jack O’Lantern, Skeleton, and Sally have been imprisoned at a top-notch, maximum security government prison run by Agent Herbert M. “Rusty” Rovenfeld, located in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere. But there are no windows, so it’s difficult to tell.
The monsters are the only inmates there. They can barely even see each other, with each prisoner allowed only one visit per day. They’ve been there since the evening of October 29th. The result? Pure torture.
Not even mentioning the meals, the routine is a worse punishment than the imprisonment most of them had faced under “Master” a couple years prior. They’re forced to perform certain tasks, with Agent Rovenfeld and others studying how they operated.
Now it is the night of Halloween. A night filled with lots of memories for each monster, both good and bad. Joyful and horrendous.
The Invisible Man had expected the night to be fairly inactive. Oh, but he was wrong.
Outside of his jail cell, the Invisible Man sees dozens of FBI agents and military troopers rushing through the base full speed ahead. Something had clearly happened. Something big.
About fifteen minutes later, the Invisible Man sees a figure approaching his cell. A figure donning colorful robes and a rather ridiculous hat. It was Wizard Marius.
“Marius?!” proclaimed the Invisible Man. “How did you escape?”
Marius begins unlocking the door to the Invisible Man’s prison chamber as he talks. “Long story short, all humans in this base are gone. For the full scoop, follow me.”
With his door now open, the Invisible Man rushes through and follows Marius, his heart pumping. It’s all very rushed. Too rushed for the Invisible Man, who prefers to take things slowly.
He makes his way with Marius to a room marked “Agents Only”, a rather large, comfortable space that almost resembles a cushy living room, even featuring a large flat-screen television. In there are Sally, Frankenstein, Witch Miriam, Jack O’Lantern, and Skeleton. All the other prisoners.
“What’s going on?” inquires the Invisible Man, wondering if it’s good or bad.
Everyone else is glued to the TV screen. A news report comes on, reciting information so quickly the Invisible Man can barely take it in. News shots show people scrambling, children in costumes running. Utter mayhem and panic.
And over a large city looms . . . “Master”. Beetlejuice is back. And having more fun than ever.
“What’s going on?!” shouts the Invisible Man. “WHAT’S GOING ON?!”
“Beetlejuice back!” answers Frankenstein. “He taking lots of people!”
The Invisible Man is speechless, suffering from complete and total shock. “What have I done?”
Hotel Transylvania, Romania, October 31, 7:17 P.M. (American Time)
A vampire is sitting in his office, atop the highest floor on the biggest monster hotel in the world. Well, the only monster hotel in this world.
Suddenly, his door bursts open. The vampire’s assistant rushes in, perspiring and breathless.
“We . . . need . . . ELEVATOR!” the apprentice yells.
“Vhat is it?”
“Some big beetle is attacking New York!”
The aide grabs the remote sitting on the vampire’s wooden desk and clicks the “ON” button. The TV pops on.
The same report plays. The vampire is speechless.
“What have I done?” says Count Dracula.
The monsters will return.
There it is! Part V of the Halloween story is complete . . . at least Part I of Part V. This volume isn’t fully over. Two more parts will come soon, likely during Halfway to Halloween next year. But don’t worry, they’ll be written before next year’s Halloween. The Halloween post of 2023 will be the final chapter in this big story! But I’ll keep writing an annual post after that, even if it is a little different.
But I’m getting ahead of myself! I hope you (that’s right, YOU, reader!) had a spooktacular Halloween, and I’ll be back with more PWK content soon. Looking at some Christmas posts in particular . . .
Whiz Kid out
Post-Credits Scene: Dozens of families are being hauled into Halloween Town. The town square has become the headquarters of Beetlejuice’s entire operation.
Pennywise the Dancing Clown has one giant bag of people, Mr. Edward Hyde another. Lord Dreadful stands with Slappy the Dummy and the concerned Dr. Wilfred Glendon at a cauldron as the Sanderson Sisters fly around the downtown.
A large portal opens up near the cauldron, and Master Beetlejuice steps out of it, dressed in his signature black-and-white suit. A sense of barbarous joy spreads across his face.
“Well . . . YA READY?!” he yells.
All his cronies nod.
“THEN LET’S DO IT!” he screams, even louder.
He jumps up to Dr. Glendon and makes random noises in his ear. The classic Beetlejuice schtick.
Dr. Glendon takes a giant spoon and stirs the potion in the cauldron around as Beetlejuice picks up a large spell book and begins reciting a curse from it.
“Yaba . . . doobie . . . doolah . . . shoolie . . . rubba duckay en mi shoo!”
All of a sudden, the ground shakes and a green color stemming from the cauldron spreads across the entire town. The potion boils, and . . .
The bags filled with humans disappear.
Beetlejuice takes a minute to process this. Perplexed, he turns to Glendon.
“Wha . . . WHAT WENT WRONG THERE, GLENDY-BOY?!”
Dr. Glendon simply smiles. “I guess you shouldn’t have trusted a human with creating your potion.”
Beetlejuice trips backward. Treason! Who would ever want to betray the best boss ever?!
“Why’d you do this? WHY?!”
Dr. Glendon calmly answers. “I guess it just proves that even when you win . . . you can still lose.”