#delitized

You do not know where you are, but it is not scary yet, there are people, and they are enjoying themselves.  If you had to guess you would expect you were in a place that began with the adjectives 'Historic Downtown'.  It is well lit and quaint, there are groups of white, buzzed college students singing nondescript songs and children in costume laughing stock-soundishly.  A banner hanging somewhere says "Halloween Spooktakular Scarefestival 2013"  and it also mentions something about a scary art festival sponsored by DeviantArt.  You think that DeviantArt is pretty terrible but you've seen some good stuff emerge from there, so you just hope there is some sort of quality control and walk over to one of the booths.

  The first booth is filled with pictures of some pale tall guy wearing a suit.  His limbs seem to wobble impossibly, comically even.  He also has no face, you noticed that too.  You know what this is.  "He's called Slenderman."  You nod.  "So why's he so scary?"  The words that escape your lips surprise you, but you're not unhappy you've said them, because it is a valid question to ask.  She ponders for a moment.  "Well, he has all sorts of powers and he's mysterious and he can totally hunt you and catch you and you wouldn't be able to do anything." 

  "Yea, but the aesthetic really isn't that scary, a tall blank faced man in a suit?  Are you afraid of a well dressed Shaq as well?"

  Her brow furrows.  "I don't...what?"

  You've said A Weird Thing.  You scamper to the next booth quickly.  Slenderman is still not scary, though.

  The artist at the next booth is dressed as a zombie, also his faux-tattered shirt says Zombies!, his booth says Zombie Booth, he's watching a zombie movie on a small mobile TV, and also all his paintings are of zombies.  "These paintings are pretty gross."  You say, grimacing at a huge picture of a zombie with some sort of toothy blood boil spurting out of his eyeball.  He perks up from his zombie stupor and says.  "Yea, I think I did a pretty good job makin' em scary."  You fundementally disagree.  "No it's just gross, like, I'm not scared of roadkill, but that doesn't mean I want to touch it, or carry it around, or frame it up in my house.  This makes me uncomfortable, but for like, different reasons.  Plus, zombies are played."  He looks sad, and you amble off to a new booth to ruin.

  You see a booth filled with pictures of comical skeletons and ghosts.  "Is this supposed to be scary?" You ask inquisitively. 

   "No.  Spooky." 

  "Oh."  You nod your head, confused, yet appreciative before heading to a booth filled with pictures of a squidheadman.  It's Cthulhu.  This is the Cthulhu booth.  The pictures are well done, but not really scary.  So you say:  "These pictures are well done, but not really scary." 

  At least this artist is more on the ball.  "Part of Cthulhu's horror comes from being existentially horrifying, he exists beyond human comprehension, and to view him would drive you mad."

  "He's beyond comprehension, but you drew him."

  "Well, obviously he has to have a physical form on this plane."

  "So he drives people mad with his completely comprehendable physical form on this plane?"

  "It doesn't work that way-"

  "It doesn't seem to work at all."  You interrupt at the right moment, and smirk at how witty you are.

  "You're a dick."

  "I am a dick" You totally admit out loud before walking away.

  You take a look at the booths ahead of you, from quick glance you see not a scary thing among them.  You decide that it is probably time for you to figure out how to get home from whereever you've been apparated to.  Before you do though, you suddenly spot a single man, with a single covered canvas loitering in a dark back alley.  You recognize this scenario as being tonally consistant with something that might actually be scary and casually make your way towards him.

  He nods warmly.  "So you're not too impressed with the rest of the artfest huh?"

  "Not really much here in the way of scares."

  "I can change that"  He offers.

  You are skeptical  "What makes you think so."

  "Because I recognize what these people are doing wrong."  His eyes go distant, as if he is talking to more than just you.  "They'll never be able to do it because they are trying to create something scary.  But what they have is a still inert image without fully grasping why a human would feel fear.  They grasp at emotions like horror and dread by what they've been exposed to and then they think it translates perfectly into a snapshot.  Real fear comes from viewing what was not meant to be viewed, from making a mistake and wandering down the wrong alley to have something uncomfortable forced upon you, something that represents a festering worm in any human, in all humans."

  You don't like where this is going.  "So?  You've created a snapshot as well haven't you?  You've set out to make something scary, and you'll fail all the same."

  "No no no."  He smiles.  "I didn't make this, and the person who did, he didn't make this to scare."

  The man pulls back the curtain.

  "This is someone's sexual fetish."

  ----

  Happy Halloween everybody!