Halloween Romance
Sequel to
Mischief Night Magic
Part Two: Costumes

Tonight was Halloween night. I'd spent the morning cleaning the remaining parts of the cemetery. Around one, Gwendoline fixed me a late lunch of chicken noodle soup with some salted crackers on the side. The soup was okay, nothing special, just the kind of soup you get from a can. Small cubes of chicken breast, thin noodles, and a yellow, salty broth. After that I took a short nap.

Around three Gwendoline woke me up from my nap and ushered me into the bathroom. Once in the bathroom I found out I needed to pee. So I peed before jumping into the shower. The shower washed away the sweat and grimness and made me feel a little fresher. I washed and conditioned my hair before shaving my legs and my under-arms. Yes, I even shaved my private area.. because you know, well first off its Halloween, second, its my first dance. And I'm sure there would be plenty of cute boys to choose from. And I wanted to be prepared if the chance for a little fun in bed showed itself. 

After my shower I walked into my bedroom and I noticed my costume had already been laid out. A small blush colored my face as I reached down and picked up the costume. You could tell the fabric was kind of cheap, but then again most “From the Rack” cosplay's were cheap, having been sewn in some Hong Kong sweat shop by slave labor that was paid about fifty cents an hour. Or was that fifteen cents an hour? I don't know.

“So.” I said as I walked over to the dress. Without thinking I let the pink towel that had been wrapped around my chest drop to the floor. “Is this my first of many dances as 'Heather' or is this going to be a one or done deal?” I asked myself as I reached in and pulled out a lacy white bra. Given the fact that I lacked breasts I could have gotten away without it. But it just felt right to put on one. After all, Gwendoline had sewn some padding for me. I then slipped on the dancer belt to smooth out my front and over the dance belt I slipped on a pair of french cut panties.

“Dad would kill me.” I said to myself. And I was right, if my dad saw me now he would walk out to his truck. Get his shot-gun down from the gun rack. Load it full of shells, it was a pump shotgun. He would then walk back inside, take aim at me, and squeeze the trigger and blow me here to kingdom come. And he would not stop at one blast, no he would keep going till he was sure I was dead as a doornail.

But then again, what he did not know would not hurt him. But I started to think that somebody might rat me out. Benton was after all a small southern town, and like most small towns, people talked. It was only a matter of time before somebody put two and two together.

“Fuck it.” I said slipping on the costume. “You only live once.” I said.

“Cat's have nine lives.” A voice from behind me said. “Or so I've been told. Sometimes I believe it. I've seen plenty of tom's walk away from death's doorstep.”

I blinked and quickly turned around. And then I screamed as I fell over. Standing in the doorway of my bedroom was none other than the fabled bloody bride. Her form fitting wedding gown was splattered with blood, her white gloves seemed stained with it, and a long white veil covered her face. And in her hands was the weapon that had done the deed so long ago, a bloody hatched dripping with blood.

“HEATHER!” A concerned voice from behind the white veil said. “It's me girl!” Without waiting another second the bridge dropped her hatched to the floor and reached up and removed her veil. I'd been expecting to see the hellfire red eyes of the bridge I saw that cold, foggy night a week or so ago. Instead I saw the soft, almost glowing baby blue eyes of Gwendoline.

“JESUS.” She said rushing toward me. “Maybe we should stay in if you're going to scream like that.” She said as she wrapped her arms around me. She wasted no time in pulling into a hug.

“Sorry..” I said. I felt my cheeks starting to blush. “You just scared me. I told you that night I saw what I thought was the fabled 'Bloody Bride' and well, I've tried to forget about it. I kind of wrote it off as a fever dream you know. I thought I was coming down with something that night.” I said I was a little unsure of myself.

“Oh girl.” Gwendoline said. “I've been thinking about that night too, maybe I should have chosen a different costume then. You see, when you told me you'd been chased by the 'Bloody Bride' I thought you were pulling my leg or something. She is not known for letting her prey escape her. So it must have been blind luck you found my cottage. As the Spirits can't cross the threshold of my door, not without my permission and I would never grant her permission.”

“What do you mean?” I said tilting my head to the side. “What do you mean 'She not known for letting her prey escape her' I thought ghost can't hurt you and I also thought ghost were not real?” I was a bit confused by that statement. You think a former ghost hunter would have a little more respect for the supernatural right? Well to be honest with you. While I loved the supernatural, and while I loved getting scared out of my mind from watching horror movies and reading one ghost story after another I always knew in the back of my mind that ghosts were not real. But here Gwendoline was, telling me ghosts were real and they could not cross the threshold of her door without her permission. That sounded a bit odd.

Gwendoline chuckled a little as she stood up.

“Oh Sweet Heather.” She said bending down to help me up. “I'm really amazed that 'The Bloody Bride' let you escape her that night. Normally those who cross her path end up spirited away. Their face's end up plastered on the front wall's of Walmart's and on the back of milk cartons. Maybe she saw something special inside of you that night and decided that you should live, instead of being dragged into the shadows never to be heard from again.” She said smiling.

I felt a little chill run across my shoulder as I peered up at Gwendoline who was fixing her veil.

“Okay?” I said standing up. I brushed some of the dirt off the front of the costume. “If you don't mind me asking.. Why did you decide to dress like her for Halloween?”

Gwendoline giggled a little. It was an unearthly giggle. One that made my blood turn to icy water.

“Because. I feel a connection to her. I know how it feels to be rejected by the man who you thought loved you, who you thought you'd grow old with, the man who you thought would become your husband. A man who defiled your wedding gown with his sinful heart.” Gwendoline said as she reached down and ran her glove fingers over the blade of the hatched.

“Okay, what about the hatched you're holding in your hand?” I asked as I eyed the hatched a little. Gwendoline once more chuckled a little as she held the hatched.
“Oh this?” She said holding the hatched up with one hand and pointing toward it with the other. “This is a cheap little prop I bought last year.” She then leaned. She was so close to my face I could smell the minty fresh breath wash she used to rinse out her mouth after she brushed her teeth a few minutes ago.

“I mean, it's not like I'm going to chop you up into a billion, tiny little pieces and bury each piece in its own little hole so the police will never find you.” She said with a wicked little smile. It was so wicked that it caused me to shiver a little. What a Halloween this was turning out to be.

“Anyway the dance starts soon. Like in an hour or so. So we have just enough time to get down there, get you checked in and spike the punch.” Gwendoline said with a little smile. She quickly added. “I was joking about the last part. I don't think the PTA will want to serve a spiked punch to a bunch of crazy teenagers on Halloween Night.”

I had to roll my eyes at the last part. Part of me wanted to believe that Gwendoline was joking. But the other part of me knew without a shadow of the doubt that the punch would be spiked. By whom I have no idea. But then again this was Benton High. And Benton High was not known for social refinement. Anyway that's how another chapter comes to an end. Please stick around the next one going to a wild one I feel

Halloween Romance
Sequel to
Mischief Night Magic
Part Three: A Cup of Spiked Punch

The first annual Halloween dance was being held in the gymnasium of Benton Agricultural High School. And as expected the gymnasium was filled to the rafters with teenagers all outfitted in cheap, off the rack Halloween costumes. The moment I stepped into the gymnasium was the moment I felt a sudden chill pass over me. I felt like I was being watched. The Deejay stopped the music and all eyes turned and focused on me. A room took a collective breath and then released as I slowly waded into the sea of bodies.

“Dude.” I heard one of my classmates whisper to his friend. “Who is that new girl? I don't think I've seen her around the school? Is she new or something?”

“I don't know, but she's hot. I would love for her to come over and clean my room if you know what I mean, but that little maid outfit works.” His friend said as he peered toward me. “She's got a nice ass and that is plenty of cushion for some pushing if you catch my drift.”

I blushed and turned around and offered them both a little wave and a wink. And I swear to God, I thought I saw a trickle of blood starting to pour out of their noses as I waved to them. I felt like I was holding play dough in my hand and that sense of empowerment made me feel like a goddess.

Anyway I pushed past them and tried to make my way toward the punch bowl. Now this is the deep south, and nine times out of ten the punch at any social gathering is spiked. Trust me when I say this, nobody here wants to be sober at these types of dances, not even the adults who have been drafted into watching over us.. That not to encourage underage drinking by any means. It was just a fact of life here. A hallmark of social life in the deep south. Maybe things are a bit different up North. Maybe not. I don’t know. 

“Oh My God.” One of the girls said, she was dressed as a cheerleader or maybe she was a cheerleader. “Did you get a look at that little vixen?” The girl dressed as a cheerleader said in a voice that sounded more like a hiss than the vocal cords making a noise that translated into human speech. “I bet she just dressed like a maid because she thinks all the boys are going to get hard on because of it. Such a little slut!” She added.

“Totally!” I heard her friend say. “I heard no, I read online that girls who cosplay as maid's and schoolgirls do so because they think it's 'Kinky' you know. You know all they're doing is sending out a message that they're easy. Wearing that kind of costume is like holding up a bright neon sign saying 'Hey I fuck for chicken nuggets.'

“That saucy little minx!” The other girl barked.

“Totally bet she has a pair of handcuffs on her, like the metal the police use, not the fussy, soft ones you can buy in the mall.” She said with a smirk.

I slowly turned my head toward the two girls who were just chatting up a dust storm about me and smiled. In the south we are taught to kill them with kindness and well I'd learned a thing or two about killing them with kindness in the short amount of time I’d been living as a girl, on and off. . And so I walked up to them and in my best, and sweetest tone of voice said.

“Oh bless your heart, you talking about me?” Now in the south when a woman walks up to you and looks straight in the eye like I was looking at these two and says 'Bless your heart'. You know you're deep in the swamp. So deep in fact that you might just throw your hands up in the air and give up any hope of ever getting out again and accept your fate with pose and grace.

The two girls peered toward me and then shifted their attention away from me. I could tell the bashful look that came across their faces as they looked down at the floor. Finally, the girl who started it all, looked up and peered into my eyes. She then gave me a look that I could only say was a cross between a pout and a sulk. The look brought to mind a guilty little girl would give her mother when her mom caught her dipping her hand into the cookie jar. Said little girl was just moments away from getting a verbal beatdown and getting pulled across her mamma lap, cause one thing southern women hate more than sabbath breaking, swearing, and back talking is catching you ruining your appetite before dinner. 

Her friend seeing the treatment her friend was getting started to move away from her. As not to let her escape my attention. I turned around and fixed her with the most feral smile I could muster. You should have seen how their faces drained of color and their arms and hands started to tremble as they peered toward me. Then I turned my eyes away from them and once more I started to walk toward the punch bowl.

I made a conscious effort to draw attention to myself. I started each step by putting my toe down first and then the heel of my foot. I noticed moving like this gave my hips a swinging motion. The wishing of my skirt caused me to get goose pimples and the way the boys looked at me, caused me to titter a little. I found myself starting to think, 'That right boys, look at me, drool over me, lust for me, take your mental photographs and save them for when you go home tonight and you pound your meat.' Where that thought came from I had no idea. But it popped into my head all the same.

Then the deejay started to play again. The music started again. I took a deep breath, reached over the punch bowl, took into my hand a paper cup and the ladle and I poured a good measure of ruby red punch into my cup. I raised the cups to my lips and took a drink and then it hit me, the moment I swallowed the punch was the moment I felt like I'd swallowed a fireball.

The moment that fireball touched my gut was the moment I felt a powerful new sense come over me. I took a deep breath and helped myself to another up and then I started to move, I could not help myself. I think the drink went right to my head because I could feel all self control starting to slip away. The music was thumping louder and louder.

The lights were so dim the room could be pitched black. The heat from a hundred bodies, all moving to the sound of the music made the room hot and humid. And then I made a mistake. I reached down and took my third cup of spiked punch. This time I did not sip it, I shot it down. As it I titled my head back, swallowed it all in one big gup and then crushed the paper cup and tossed it into the paper waste can.

Then the deejay kicked things into high gear, the music started blaring, the whole room started to shake, a loud, heart thumping tempo echoed in my ears. My hips started to sway with the music. The boys leaned over and peered at me, their eyes starting at my face and then traveling down to my chest then to my feet before going back up and centering on my modest set of boobs. Something then started to come over me, I felt a powerful hunger starting to creep over me, my senses seemed heightened to an almost supernatural level.

I could sense everything. And by that I meant my dormant sex drive had awakened and was now going into massive overdrive. I could feel that beast roaring in my chest. I started to feel my heart racing with each step I took as the music grew louder and louder with each passing moment. I could not begin to put into words the things I was feeling at that very moment. It was like my inner slut was coming out to play for the first time. All I wanted to do was grind hard against those boys, to feel their body heat, to hold them, to let them do all manner of things to me.

I knew in the storage room to the left the football team kept a few old mattresses. I briefly entertained the idea of getting a few of the stronger boys from the herd back there. First We'll start with some kissing. Kissing would lead to them putting their strong hands all over my body. Fondling my breast and exploring every inch of me while I explored every inch of them, then more kissing, then they would push me down on the mattresses, and slide off my silken, french cut panties and then heaven.

That thought made me pant like a dog in heat. I felt my cheeks starting to flush with color. After all tonight was the night. I once heard my older sister say this to one of her girlfriends, and I'm going to quote this word for word. “Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” I think she picked it up from one of those shows she liked to watch.

Anyway if that was true. I was going to milk this once a year night for all it was worth. So look out world. Because tonight Heather Delilah Soenksen is out on the prowl and she is looking to get her some man. She is looking to feed and by damn she is going to feed. She is going to feed till the cows come home, she is going to shake this world up. Just you wait and you will see, the world will never be the same again.

All these thoughts swirled around like a tiny, violent windstorm inside my head as I stepped onto the floor and took into my hand the first boy I saw, I started spinning him around and he started spinning me around and it was pure heaven, pure bliss. I had never felt so alive, now I just needed to score me some man the night would have been perfect.

Halloween Romance 
Sequel to 
Mischief Night Magic
Part Four: Kiss of the Vampire

Vampires, ghouls, undead cheerleaders, zombies, cookie cutter type princesses, blood splattered brides, knights, monks, and all types of monsters crowded onto the dance floor. It was not a dance, it was a voodoo ritual, all of us moved in our own way. The lights were low and the dj was playing some rocking tunes and sweat was rolling down us as our bodies started to rub against each other. Lustful groans filled the room as wandering hands traveled down the bodies of willing people. 

This is what happens when you pack roughly one hundred sex crazed teenagers into a room together, and dose them with spiked punch. This was pure gonzo, this was the real thing. This is what the modern high school experience has become. And I was loving it. For the first time in my life I felt alive. I mean truly alive, like I was really living in the moment. 

Then I noticed this guy, this guy took my breath away, he was tall, tall enough to reach up and touch the rim of the basketball hoop that hung above my head. He was lean, leaner than a beanpole, but he was also tone and fit. And he seemed to glide through the air. My heart leaped into my throat and seemed to stay there. He was dressed as a vampire, a sharp dressed vampire.

Now before I go on, there are two classes of vampire, there is the classic image of a vampire, the one dressed in a tailored suit with big, golden buttons running down the middle. The one that sports a silken cape and has his hair slicked back in a low ponytail. The one who acts like a old world prince, and really turns on the charm. The one that will come blowing into your room as the clock strikes midnight and would hover above your bed, who would brush away the few fine strands of hair from your neck,  the one's who hot breath you could feel as he lowers his mouth and then, oh yes he bites you, he bites you and as he bites you pleasure and pain fill every fiber of your being and you start to shutter as he body shivers.

Oh, God just thinking about that made tingle all over. God if I'd been born a girl I would totally be getting wet right about now! The other type of vampire, was the one that looked like a reject from an Hot Topic promotional photo shoot. The ones that looked sad, depressed, gloomy, maybe they had an Myspace account or something? Refused to drink blood because in doing so they would hurt somebody. 

In short you had Bram Stoker vampires, then you had Stephenie Meyer vampires, and of course you had Anna Rice vampires, but I'd never been allowed to read any of Anna Rice's works. Hell, the only reason I was allowed to 'Dracula' was because our school's library had tattered copies I was allowed to read between classes. My mom being a born again Christian would have burned the book should she have discovered it. And my dad, being the macho man he was, would have beaten me within an inch of my life with a leather belt should he have ever discovered me reading the 'Twilight' series of books.

Then after he beat me to a bloody pup, he would have driven me to the barber shop, had the barber mow my longish hair into a crew cut and then he would have tossed my lily white ass out on the street. Oh and the book would have burned for good measure. Even if the book belonged to the Benton Public School system. And 'Harry Potter' oh both mom and dad would have had a field day with that.

Rantt aside, it is safe to say I was drawn toward Bram Stoker's version of vampires. They made me feel things and get all lustful. The other kind made me feel sad and depressed.

The vampire smiled at me. And before I could catch myself he had wrapped his arms around me, my eyes peered into his eyes and I felt a connection form. It was like our souls were meeting. Then it happened, I felt his arms being wrapped around my slim waist. He then pulled me in a little closer. Then I felt something, I could feel him growing hard.

“My, my.” He said smiling as he peered into my eyes and dipped me over. “What tasty little treat has come into my sight this evening.” He said as he peered deep into my eyes. Those eyes, I could not look away, I felt myself being hypnotized. I felt myself starting to blush, as once again the thought of sweet talking this boy to the back room and having him throw me down upon one of the old mattresses and then, and then have him deeply kiss me.

I could almost feel his tongue doing down my throat as he reached down and yanked off my panties before going to town on me. Once more I felt myself starting to blush as I swayed my hips to the left and then to the right, I took great delight in the rustling sound my petticoat made as I moved my hips. 

“My, my.” I said sticking out my tongue and running it across my teeth. “What a handsome boy we have here.” I said as I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his neck. I moved my mouth a little closer to his neck, so close he could feel my hot breath being breathed down on his neck. I don't know who was taking over, but somebody, somebody was taking control of me, at that moment I was perfectly happy letting them take the wheel from me. 

“What a tasty treat.” The vampire said as he brushed a few loose strands of hair from my neck. “Such a wonderful neck. I wish I could bite it, and drink deeply the warm, sweet blood that must be flowing so near to the surface that I could smell it.”

It was at that moment I lost it. You see up to this point I'd been fighting with whoever had been wanting to gain control of me. I'd been trying to keep them from gaining total control, though with each passing second I found that harder and harder to do. But those words had a very profound effect upon me. It was like somebody had taken a wrecking ball to the last wall I'd thrown up. Yes a wrecking ball, a wrecking ball that was at that very moment rendering the stones into dust and tearing them asunder 

Then I felt something that made my eyes go wide as saucers. I felt his teeth going down on my neck. A few seconds later I felt them pressing down into my skin, a split second later they broke the surface of my skin. A shiver ran through my body followed by a lustful groan as I felt his warm, gentle tongue lick the freshly bitten skin. I wanted to just burst open. I wanted to yell, I wanted to shout. I saw colors float in front of my eyes. Bright orbs of pastel reds, dark blues, light greens, sunshine yellows all seemed to float in front of me, around me, around us.

I lost all self control at that moment and shuttered with warm delight. I think I've just discovered a new fetish. I mean biting counts as a fetish right? The only fetish I knew I had for sure was spanking, oddly enough considering my upbringing and how quick my dad was to remove his belt and bring it across my ass. Well he used to, now he seemed content with using his fist. Anyway that was beside the point. 

“Oh God.” I said, taking a deep breath. “That was amazing.” I said as I closed my eyes. I could feel him growing hard. In fact his neither region was starting to poke me a little and that feeling of getting poked just sent my mind reeling. I was in heaven. 

“Glad you enjoyed it.” He said, smirking a little.

“I wish I could go all the way.” I said as I peered at him. I could not control myself. Try as I might, I found myself mentally removing each piece of his costume. My mind conjured up images of rock, hard albs, albs hard and strong enough one could split wood on them. Of strong, well developed hands, hands strong to render boulders and stones to mere dust in a matter of seconds. Yet gentle enough to pet my hair and to gently undress me. And then my mind traveled down to his neither region and again I felt myself starting to turn as red as a vine ripen tomato.

“Who says we can't?” He said in a low growl.

“Oh behave.” I said, smiling a little.

“Oh but where's the fun in that?” He responded. 

“How about something to drink first?” I said as I started to move toward the fake crystal punch bowl. The hot, humid atmosphere of the room, along with the dancing had left my throat as dry as the Sahara Desert. “You know a little refreshment before we move onto something else.” I said I was trying my best to flirt with him. Now as a guy, I never, I mean never ever flirted before. But now, as a girl I found it came natural to me, kind of like how swimming comes natural to spaniels. 

“Oh.” He said, smiling a little. “Of course.” He said as he jumped in front of me and smiled a little. He then held up his hand and grinned. “Allow me to fetch the lady something to drink.” He said as he turned his back on me and started toward the punch bowl.

“Oh what a charming gentleman you are!” I said blushing. That was another thing I was still getting use too, getting attention from boys. Again as a boy, nobody ever, I mean ever paid me much mind. But since this almost magical transformation. It seemed everybody was noting me. Which was a good thing, because I found that I was starting to crave attention.  And so I stood there and smiled while I watched my new boy toy walk over to the punch bowl and fix me yet another cup of spiked punch. And while he did that, I started to day dream about all the things I could do to him. Or all the things he could do to me.

Halloween Romance
Sequel to
Mischief Night Magic
Part Five: A Cup Of Poison

I felt my hips starting to sway this way and that, all in tune with the music the dj was playing as I waited for my vampire to return with my requested cup of spiked punch. As I waited, I felt small beads of sweat starting to roll down my body, making my costume sticking to me. And I could feel the effects of the alcohol taking hold of me. I was sure I was starting to catch the first rising curls of a buzz.

And on that note, I felt my own self-control starting to wane. And I was okay with that, as each second passed by, I felt a certain thrill in allowing myself to lose total control over everything that was going on around me. After all, tonight was indeed the fable night of October thirty first. The one night of the year that we allowed ourselves the total freedom to become who we could not the other three hundred and sixty two days of the year.

“Here you go.” My vampire told me as he held a cup of bluish looking liquid out to me. “I added something extra to your punch.” He whispered with a dark smile. “Something to make you feel alive, more alive than you have ever felt before.” He said as he leaned in and teased my ear with his hot breath.

Despite all the red flags he was giving off. Something told me I could trust him, it was a foolish notion. I knew better than to trust him, but it was like I'd been robbed of my better judgment. I only smiled and reached out and took a cup of bluish liquid. The normally ruby red punch had turned a Prussian blue and was now bubbling.

“Oh what is this?” I said smiling as I swayed with the music.

“Something to make you feel alive. Trust me, babe. I won't hurt you. Not my vampire maid.” He said grinning as he started to walk around me. “Just go ahead and down it. Don't think about it. Just do it, after all you only live once and tonight is Halloween after all.” He said grinning as he peered toward me.

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders and again despite all the warning signs, I lifted the cup to my lips and then I stopped. Because I heard what sounded like the tramping of heels upon the floor. The music had stopped and out of the corner of my eye, I thought I once more saw the Bloody Bride.

“HEATHER DELILAH SOEKSEN!” Came the out roaring cry from the throat of the Bloody Bride. “You drop that glass right this second young lady!” She bellowed as she rushed up to me and wrapped her fingers around my hand. She then turned toward the vampire and with an unholy furry she released a torrent of insults and swears at him.

“And you young man!” She started. “Have some nerve preying on my niece like she is a deer in the woods.” She added. At this point two security guards appeared on the scene. “I saw you slip something into my niece's drink! Scum like you should not be allowed to breathe the same air as we do!” She bellowed.

The young man flinched as the two guards rushed toward him. The first guard reached down and took him by the hand and the second one took him by the shoulder. The smart, smug look on his face shattered. In fact it broke to pieces. It brought to mind this mental image, it was like somebody had taken a shop hammer to a mirror and broken it into a hundred little shards of glass. That person then in a fit of manic glee had then started to smash those one hundred little shards of glass into millions of tiny fragments. Then those tiny little fragments had been crushed into nothing but fine dust!

“I have no idea what you're talking about! You guys know who my dad is! You guys know who your fucking with! I will bury your fucking asses!” He barked. A feeble attempt to regain the high ground and to once more place the ball in his court. A last ditch effort to launch a successful counter attack that would turn the tide of battle in his favor once more.

Then it dawned on me who the bride was, it was Gwendoline! Gwendoline Potter, the woman who for the last week or so acted like a second mother to me.

“You don't scare me, the Potter Family has long controlled the affairs of Benton and the surrounding communities. We've done so since this town was founded and we shall keep doing so as long as we draw breath.” And with that she reached over and started to dig into the vampire's pockets.

“Hey! You can't do this to me! You fucking cunt! You fucking bitch! You fucking piece of shit!” He bellowed as struggled to free himself from the firm and secure hold of the two security guards.

Gwendoline did not seem to mind and soon she pulled out a small orange bottle that seemed to be filled with tiny, jell filled pills. Gwendoline fixed her eyes on the young man and then fixed her eyes on me. The moment our eyes met, was the moment I prayed that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I could tell she was mad. And I swore, and I would take this to my grave that I saw the fire's of the underworld burning in her eyes that night.

“I think this is proof enough.” She said in a calm tone of voice. “Proof enough that my niece, Heather Delilah Soenksen was not the one poor girl you intended to ensnare with your dirty little tricks.” She said as she peered toward the two guards.

“Gentleman.” She said as she turned her head around. “I think this vampire should have a one on one talk with the constable. I'm sure Mr. Bridges would love to hear about this little bit of mischief.”

The two guards nodded their heads and started to haul my vampire toward the double doors of the gym. No doubt a patrol car was already parked in front of the school. And well the truth was starting to dawn on me, and as each second ticked on by, I began to regain a little bit more of my senses. It seemed my common sense was starting to return. The fog was starting to lift a little. The buzz was wearing off and settling into a thriving headache.

“Heather.” Gwendoline said as she shifted her head toward me. “You and I need to have a little talk, an niece and aunt talk.” She said, closing her eyes. She then lifted her hand and started to rub her forehead a little. It was like she was trying to rub away a headache.

“Yes ma'am.” I said in a meek tone of voice.

“First things first. How many cups of punch did you drink?” She asked as she kept rubbing her forehead with her fingers.

“I think I had about three or four?” I said, looking down and sighing.

“Damn.” Gwendoline said, shaking her head. She then reached down and wrapped her fingers around my wrist. She then started to pull me toward the refreshment table. Once she reached the table, she reached into an ice chest and pulled out a bottle of water. She then pushed the bottle of water into my hands.

“Drink.” She commanded as she walked away.

“I'm really not thirsty anymore..” I said looking down at the bottle of water in my hand. “Not after what happened a few minutes ago.” I added.

“The water is safe to drink. See it's bottled, the cap is secure. Drink it, you're going to need plenty of water. A lot of water. And something to eat too. Something sealed, like a candy bar or something, I don't trust the finger foods, not after what happened.” She said, shifting her eyes around the room.

I blinked again. I was not sure what she was driving at.

“Drink.” She said, eyeing the bottle of water. “You need to drink plenty of water, or else you're going to feel like shit tomorrow morning and tomorrow is All Souls Day, a very important day for us in the business.” She said, sighing.

At this point I dared not to ask any more questions, instead I just unscrewed the cap from my bottle of water and started to drink. The cool, refreshing liquid washed away some of the foul aftertaste the spiked punch had left in my mouth. I quickly sucked down the bottle. A few seconds after finishing the first bottle, I was handed another one by Gwendoline.

“Also, tomorrow you are coming to church with me. So keep drinking that water girl, trust me, drinking plenty of water before you catch that buzz is the best way to keep from getting a really bad hangover. Trust me, I've had my fair share of hangovers to know.” She said, sighing.

I dared not risk a response to that. So instead I just kept chugging away at my water.

Halloween Romance
Sequel to
Mischief Night Magic
Part Six: A Lesson on the Perils of Womanhood

Gwendoline took a deep breath as she closed the heavy wooden doors of the girls bathroom behind her. She then started to walk around every square foot of the bathroom. Once she was sure we were along she turned toward me and heaved another long, drawn out sigh.

“Heather Delilah Soenksen.” She said in a loud, scolding tone of voice, but then she seemed to catch herself and the next stream of words that came surging out of her mouth seemed softer, more understanding.

“I would say I'm displeased with your behavior. But then I had to remind myself that  you're new to being a girl. And that brick for brains mother of yours never set down to have a talk with you. So it seems that heaven has deemed me to be the one to enlighten you on the perils of womanhood. And if you don't know what enlightenment means, then the Benton public school system has failed you and has pissed away my tax dollars.” She added as she shook her head.

I blinked and blinked again. I wanted to say something, but I decided to keep my mouth shut and just listen to the rant Gwendoline was about to pour down on my head.

“Not all men are gentlemen. I guess you learned that lesson the hard way just now. If you're a woman, you need to watch your drink when you attend dances or go to the club. Some men, and I say some, because not all men are like that, will take the chance and slip something into an unguarded drink. That is the first lesson you need to learn if you plan on living the rest of your life as a woman. Never, I mean never accept drinks from a stranger. It's like how you never accept candy from a stranger.” Gwendoline said as she opened her eyes and zoomed in on me.

I nodded my head.

“What could have happened is this, if you had accepted that drink from that young punk, I'm loath to call him a man much less a gentleman. You would have found yourself tongue tied and out of your ever loving mind. It's called date rape honey, and let me ask you this. What do you think would have happened, if you had taken that drink and that punk had dragged you into the broom closet to have a little fun? What do you think would have happened when he stripped that pretty little costume off you and tore off those french cut silken panties you're wearing and found out that you have a penis instead of a vagina?” Gwendoline bellowed.

I took a few steps back and lifted my hands into the air and shook my head from the left to the right.

“You don't know?” Gwendoline said fighting to keep her budding rage down. “You honestly did not think that far ahead?” She said, stunned almost to tears. “Well then Heather Dililah Soenksen Allow me to enlighten you again what would have happened should you have been so foolish to take that offered drink!”

I paused and swallowed it seemed I was in for a verbal flogging.

“What would have happened is this, once you were drugged out of your mind. A living, breathing, sex doll if I may be so blunt with you. And he found out you had a penis instead of an vagina he would have rolled you over and stuck his dick into your ass, quite forcefully, and gone to town on you. Paying little mind to the pain he was causing you. Or the damage he was doing to your insides. All he would have cared about is blowing his load inside you.  That or he would have felt cheated, yes let that sink in. He would have felt cheated, and would have taken out his pent up anger out on you.” Gwendoline said, shaking her head.

“What would have followed? Well you're out of your mind, so he would either leave you there, till the effects of the drug wore off and your common sense returned to you. Or he would have beaten you bloody, knocked all the teeth out of your head, smashed them to dust too for good measure and then either have left you there a bloody mess of a girl. Or he would have taken you out to his truck.” Gwendoline seemed to recount all these horrors as if she had lived them herself.

I was too stunned to speak to myself so I just stood there with my jaw open catching flies.

“Once he had you loaded up in his truck, he would have driven you out to the countryside. There are thousands of miles of dirt roads between here and Yazoo City, thousands of square miles of swampland, millions of trails only known to local huntsmen and trillions of little brooks, creeks, and streams known only to local fisherman. It's safe to say he could have dumped your body at the end of one of these trails. Or off one of the thousands of bridges that span those little brooks, creeks and streams. Or better yet, just rolled you to the side of one of the dirt roads. If you were alive, you would be in no shape to walk, much less find your way to safety.” Gwendoline said, sighing.

I was still just catching flies at this point.

“And even if you were alive, the elements would finish you off? And your body? Coyotes, foxes, wild hogs, bobcats, and other meat eating woodland creatures would have picked your bones clean. Then early autumn winds would have scattered your bones from here to Yazoo City, hell even wild dogs might carry them away to chew on them and clean any renaming meat.” Gwendoline said again with a sad sigh.

“If you want to be a woman, you need to fully understand the dangers that come with being a woman. You need to be aware of your surroundings at all times. And with you being a transwoman you need to be on your guard consistently. Most mothers have this talk with their daughters when they first start their periods, say around twelve or thirteen. But girls are starting their periods earlier and earlier. And with the rise of social media, well it is a different world than the one I grew up in.” Gwendoline seemed to be musing now.

“Do you understand?” She finally asked.

“I do..” I said looking down. I was a little ashamed of myself.

Then Gwendoline did something that took me by surprise, she moved in and wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to her chest and nestled me between her breasts. She then started to gently stroke my hair and in a soft, motherly tone of voice she whispered into my ear.

“Your life changed forever the moment you decided to trespass into the graveyard a few nights ago. There is no way you can go back to being a boy now. Your soul was split into half that night. You know have one half of the Bloody Brides soul fused with yours. Even if you tried to fight it, that other half will in time overpower the remaining half of your soul.” She said in a mystic tone of voice.
“All the magic in the world can not reverse the changes taking place inside of you. At first it will be mental, then it will be physical. I don't know what the future holds for you, but I do know, I can not abandon you to fate and to forces you can’t begin to understand much less control.” Gwendoline added.

I was stunned. Stunned into silence.

“There are places in this world. Where the barrier is wafer thin . And the two worlds overlap. Hospitals are one such place. Graveyards are another. Sometimes abandoned places become a doorway for evil spirits to come through. Though the great master has appointed certain good spirits to patrol these areas. And keep at bay the evil spirits that wish to do the living harm. And there people, certain people, mortals as we are called. Who have been appointed to help the good spirits keep the evil spirits at bay. Human fragility, or sickness sometimes keeps us from doing our job.” She said as she held me and started to rub my back.

“It's time I think I started to train my successor now. And I think I found the perfect girl to take my place when it comes time for me to retire.” She said smiling as she kept rubbing my back.

I blinked and blinked again as I pulled away and looked up at Gwendoline.

“But we will talk about that later.” Gwendoline said smiling. “Let's try to put this little event behind us and let's try to enjoy the last few hours of the dance.”

And with that, my Halloween Romance adventure came to an end.