His name was Richard Excelsior Almighty Victorious Young, he was a Nerd and he was angry with his parental units. The name was just one of the reasons why he was angry. The other reason was, even if less constant, at the time more enraging. He was to stay home and miss the Halloween dance at high school. He was 16 years old, top student of the class, didn't smoke, drink or do drugs, yet he had to stay home, because "Halloween is the feast of the devil" and "We praise the Lord in this house" and "You will be grounded out of your heathen ways". Rick would show them. The parental units would be seeing television, the Reverend's channel. Now he was almost happy that they had asked him to set up a television server linked to all the computers... With a text-to-voice software he recorded a ten minute sermon on the dangers of withholding your kids at home when they wish to go out and experiment the dark ways of the pagan folk. Rick was specially proud of the "The only way to see the light is to walk on darkness before" bit. He was watching the show on his computer screen and waiting for the Reverend to start the regular 8h30pm 10 minutes speech and stream his own soundtrack to it. He was so proud of his work that he listened to it instead of listening to the news on the radio, like he used to do. Had he heard the news, he wouldn't have been so happy when five minutes after the speech ended the parental units entered his room and said they had seen the error in locking him and forbidding him to go.
He dressed his homemade Rambo suit really quick and left for the dance. He should be there in 10 minutes, by bike. It took him 7, and he had to slow down for the girl scouts and keep his AK-47 Super Soaker from hitting his knees. If he wasn't in such a hurry he might have noticed the young man, dressed as a space pirate, inside the circle of girls, and that he was fighting for his life, with a spiked flail in hand. The last Rick could have seen of him was the flail hitting a piggy tailed girl scout on the arm.
The high school was deserted, as expected, and Rick followed the music into the gym. he stopped at the door, adjusted the red head band, grabbed the AK-47 'movie style' and kicked the door open.
When the door opened he noticed that the "music" was nothing more than static. The gym was empty. There were half filled cups on the tables and spilled cups on the floor. Rick glanced at his watch, making sure he wasn't later than he thought. The dace should have started 40 minutes early and it should still be going one for the next two hours, but nobody was on sight. He walked around the gym, and screamed like a little girl when he saw the arm coming from under the table.
When Rick got his breath back he slowly ducked and looked under the table, to see a boys body attached to the arm, and comically dressed in a pink cowboy costume. Rick screamed again, a little less little-girlish this time, and stepped back until he hit the wall. It took him a few seconds to recover, eyes closed and breathing deep. When he opened his eyes, he went to the DJ set table and turned the sound off, only start hearing cries of affliction on the distance. Holding his fake AK-47 next to his body he slowly walked out into the school yard, trying to understand where the sounds were coming from. When he thought he knew where they were, we went back into the gym, and then ran to his bike. Once there he tried calling the cops, but his phone got no signal, as it always was , night time in Savannah.
He followed the road into the sound, stopping at the police station just to find it empty, and kept going. The woods were only a few more meters ahead, and Rick heard the cries closer, more desperate.
The last thing he saw was a little girl in a girl scout uniform, with pig tails and a scar in her arm. She was smiling when she said "good night Richard".
