#fff174

Most of them wearing costumes of varying types. Ranging from garish to understated. Highly detailed to totally simple. Either they showed up as creatures from folklore or characters from a media, they all attended the party in an ensemble.

The guest gasped, their attention roaming to what they saw. They steered from other people's lane in an attempt to maintain a low profile.

In honesty, they shouldn't be here. A regular human in a frat house of other creatures. They had been warned of potential harm if they did go. They didn't listen because well. . . they couldn't pass this up.

Not when they could experience what it could be like.

A monster mash, eh? Sounded like their type of party.

Sure, they probably shouldn't take part in supernatural events. But come on? They would be a fool to not join this one. They could pretend to be someone they were not for one night.

What could possibly go wrong?

Thankfully, they didn't need to enter with an invitation. They only discovered this party from a flyer, obtaining the address. They had prepared right then and there, exhilarated by such a fascinating prospect.

Although, they probably should have dressed up as a scarier creature than an alien. They covered most of themself with a tin foil-looking suit. It was based on those sci-fi movies, where most aliens wore

Two partygoers, a harpy and a vampire, pulled up and looked at them. They refused to crumple. They didn't need to fear these people. They probably didn't intend to scare any random guest.

"Yo, sick costume!" the harpy screeched, beaming.

"Thank you," they replied, grinning.

The vampire bared her fangs, pointing at an empty sofa. "Why don't you get over here?"

"No thanks." They waved their hands dismissively. "I can't afford to fail taking advantage of the buffet table."

They both nodded and moved past them. They proceeded to a living room, where music blared from a high quality stereo. Guests crowded a dance floor, their limbs grooving along to it's buoyant tune. Some other guests surrounded a table, chattering and eating food.

As their eyes landed on the buffet table, their jaw dropped.

Score! They must have won a lottery because damn. . . so much food to eat.

So, they plucked a disposable plate and served themself. With some dark chocolate cake, spaghetti, and a bowl of chips. They also poured a glass of punch for themself.

They started digging in, standing near an empty corner. Just paying attention to their food, savoring it's taste.

People gathered around a pool table, calculating on what moves to take.

As they discarded their plate in a trash can, the group let out noises of discontent. They snickered and shook their head.

Compared to humans, they also get riled up during eager competitions.

Someone ran towards them, pulling them towards a group sitting on the floor.

"Bruh, you've got to try this!" the werewolf said, clapping them at the back. "This barrel's awesome! It's got a load of pineapple juice!"

They arched a brow.

"Pineapple juice, huh?"

"Yup! It's gonna taste so good!"

Fine then. If they politely insisted.

As they picked up a cup, they filled it with pineapple juice. People chanted 'chug, chug, chug,' and they complied to their request. They guzzled most of it and they cheered, providing a round of applause.

They crushed the cup against their forehead. The other guests' turned louder, laughing and guffawing. They grinned, propping their hands at their sides.

Damn, they did good. Best of all, they didn't see a human in their midst. Just another partygoer, who got here for some fun.

And it should be that way for tonight. They didn't have much intentions other than to party.

Technically, they didn't fit in then again, they didn't need to. That was what the Halloween spirit was all about, right? Being someone who they weren't for an entire day? Disguising their true selves from anyone, who wouldn't think twice?

Yeah, so they were alright.

Surrounded by several people, music, and good food, they indulged in doing what they could.

He made his way through the depths of the crypt and found his seat and the yew table, and greeted his fellow monsters. Carl the Giant Cockroach had somehow made her before him. Usually, this lazy ladybug was last to arrive. He was seated next to Elizabeth Coraline Frankenstein IV, the current head of the Frankenstein dynasty. As usual Howard Hyde, her right hand was standing at her shoulders, alert as ever. The fourth seat at the table was filled by Alphonse, who spear-headed the Vampiric Coven of New England and was thusly required to attend the meetings. Matilda Burton's half-decomposed head floated at the end of the table, jaw slightly ajar. Her skeletal appendages sprawled across the table. Behind Matilda, Fred could see descendants of Lycaon, members of Unseelie Courts, blights, sirens, and all manner of otherworldly creatures. He was so caught by the sheer number of creatures that had been amassed that it took a moment before Fred realized Matilda had begun to speak.

“…situation is quite grave, fellow cryptids. I have reports from multiple day dwellers that humankind has ceased being scared of us, we must form a plan to combat this development”- Matilda could say no further as a cacophony of shrieks, curses, howls, and other horrible noises were heard throughout the crypt.

“Poppycock!”, shouted one. “Blasphemy!”, added another.

It took some doing and a loose threat to be bathed in Holy Water, but Matilda managed to subdue the crowd of outraged and flabbergasted nightmares. “Unfortunately, it’s true. According to my intelligence operatives, humans have been found not only to tolerate the macabre but also to enjoy it. Iconic works like Nosferatu, Beetlejuice, and Chucky are now described as “comfort movies”. Even worse…” Matilda paused and her floating head bobbed slightly up and down as if she had gagged. “Even worse… some of the humans have taken a weird, disturbing liking to us. They seem to want to seduce us.” She turned to face both Alphonse and Fred. “Vampires and Octopuses seem to be especially popular.”

Silence filled the crypt, as the vampire and the kraken looked at one another, faces contorted in disgust. “They know monsters reproduce asexually, right?” asked Fred. “Like spores and mushrooms?”

“Especially vampires! It’s considered general knowledge that reproduce through offering blood”, shouted Alphonse, “Why don’t they know that?”

All eyes and every eye socket had turned to the pair. Even Burton herself had caught herself staring. “Ahem… well. As I said this is clearly a concerning development and we must make haste, otherwise this will be the death of frights, jump-scares, and nightmares everywhere. Does anybody have any ideas?”

Like fog on a frigid autumn morning, silence filled the crypt once more.

“Aeons of haunting humanity and none of you fools have any suggestions?”

Then a shill shriek sounded from somewhere. “I might have a solution”, said a banshee. “Why don’t we try the mundane stuff? The other week, I discovered by chance that my current victim is especially frighted by exams, especially French. So I tried to replicate it. And he never closed an eye that night! I upped the ante with unpaid bills and the state of the economy for the rest of that week. I’m proud to say he’s an insomniac now!”

Matilda looked at the banshee who was cowering slightly. “You mean that? He doesn’t sleep anymore? Be truthful!” The banshee merely nodded. Mathilda snapped her boney fingers, and a will-o-wisp appeared. “Kevin, I have a task for you. Go to Hell’s Corporate Division, and ask them to send me everything they have on the torturous nature of the mundane.” Kevin flickered, acknowledging his master, before sinking through the ground.

Matilda raised her head and spoke: “Hear ye rotten ones. The Mundane shall be the new Macabre! Go forth and spread terror alike!”

Even though this particular gig was first of its kind for the trainee, they were not a stranger (more like a begrudging ally)  to customer service. They know there is a very narrow window of opportunity to get the questions in, even though managers chant and repeat that you can ask them any time.

“Well, what if they order off the menu,” they offer.

“Oh, they will. There is no menu.”

“Well, what if they make the wrong order themselves,” they offered again.

“Eh, the customer is always wrong. We just let them think they aren’t.”

“Well,” the trainee offered at last, “what if a big gaping maw opens beneath my feet swallowing the whole fly thru as one big crispy plastic snack and gulps all of us down, right into a chasm of cosmic madness.”

“There are still smoothies in cosmic madness. You’ll be fine,” her dismissal was mundane, of the ‘happens more than you think’ variety.

They looked at Ghoulie Julie quizzically. They had to approximate where her eyes would be had the head been on and hope their aim was not too off.

“Look at you, all disconcerted! Just like the posters, well done.”

One way or another, all hell has to end, and all hell has to start, too - and that’s what the first day at a job is. 

So they take orders and throw things into the spinners, shaped like the ceiling fan overhead plus the molars and canines. They slice clean pretty much through anything pulled from the long long long long corridor stretching out of the kitchen. It is rather colloquially known as ‘in the back’ and to customers’ delight, it went on forever. There was always something in the back, though the veeeeeeery back of in the back is not where the trainee wanted to look. 

Pink substance comes out of the ‘dragons’ eyes plucked out fresh, bigfoot’s pinky toe’s toenail, and AB positively negative’ and the blades speak a pleasant crunch once it is done. The ‘curdle of scream, a chilled spine and a stomach full of butterflies’ ends with something orange and gives off a sickly vanilla whiff. ‘Coffee. Just regular coffee. None of that other stuff, pumps of whatever, can a guy get a regular black coffee?’ looked dark enough that no light parsed through. The customer seems appeased.

“You’re doing good, doll,’ says the head waitress, even though that last one did make them sweat a bit.

The next customer says simply.

“Your ignorance, please. Double bliss.”

The trainee’s head whips around in a state of new found confusion. That one must be veeeery far in the back, they think.

“Oh it’s easy,’’ says the voice over the scrying intercom, catching on to the trainee’s surprise with razor sharp precision. ‘’You just need to look hard enough. Anywhere, anywhere at all.”

The trainee moves towards the blender and looks at the very centre of it. Then they press the button, and the blades launch into their ten times over rehearsed dance, melting into each other at the speed.

Soon something starts pooling around the edges. Those little zigzags swimming in the field of your vision when you notice them out of boredom -- they knit themselves together into something of consequence, into a matter. The end substance is transparent and yet opaque, vague and yet concrete, and swirls while staying absolutely still.

Dread douses the trainee like a crashing bucket of water. Questions rush at them with microphones and mania - where are they? who are the customers? why are they feeding them, what are they feeding them? where is mum, where is Cindy? can they run? can they hide? what the hell is going on?

The trainee hands over the plastic cup over what looks like a mirror. Their hand shakes but the safety lid makes it impossible for the drink to spill, if it ever could. The customer receives it, limbs not touching the trainee’s, and leaves, if that can even be understood as leaving. The essence of them lingers, haunting and taunting in its absence.