Linus took a chalky drag from his candy cigarette and exhaled into the crisp night air, before kicking an acorn and falling to the ground in despair. His conviction was beginning to wane for the night, and he felt smaller and smaller in his determination to prove the existence of the great pumpkin. Nobody believed him, and after many years and unsuccessful trips to this GREAT BIG PUMPKIN PATCH, he had even waved a white flag of surrender and disbelief in the air himself on occasion. His endurance would ultimately prevail though and reign dominance over glimpses of fading certainty and in a split second of clarity, he jumped back onto his feet.
A slight moment of weakness and doubt was not going to spoil his fortitude. He was sure of this. Just as he was sure of the existence of the great pumpkin. Though he had never seen the beast, nor had he ever seen Santa Claus or the Easter bunny or even the Tooth Fairy, he was absolute in the dogma of these childhood fantasies. For they were not fantasies at all and quite real. He just knew it. All children would dream of these things since taking baby steps in the earliest walks of life, and this was Filthy Town.... where dreams do come true. Such had always been the case, and so it shall always be.
He didn't mind that once the other children in the town had reached a certain age they had begun to label him a fallacious boob and had taken to mocking him. For it was they who were wrong. He was slightly hurt that Sally had not believed him though. Ever since they had played doctor behind old man Wilkins' barn he had begun to think her different than all the rest. Special, even. But she didn't believe. She had only come to sit in the GREAT BIG PUMPKIN PATCH that stood atop the hill on each Halloween because she wanted to try and appease Linus, and once she became restless and bored their union had always ended the same way. Her storming off homeward, and he forced to sit out the rest of the night alone. Waiting for the great pumpkin that never seemed to show itself for the one true disciple in all of the town who had never doubted its entity. Linus had been coming to this site since he could remember.
Sitting.
Waiting.
Hoping.
For something.
Anything.
An appearence by the great one. A sign even. Yet still, all of these years later... the boy now at thirteen.... there had been nothing.
He chewed the crumbled up filter of his candy cigarette and gulped its sugary confections down his throat. He would sit here all night if he had to. For Halloween was the only night that the great pumpkin was permitted to rise from the GREAT BIG PUMPKIN PATCH. Often times he had reckoned that he was merely showing up too late and leaving too early. But tonight he had amended such spoils of timing. He told his parents that he would be rocking the dj booth at the annual school batwing dance and then would be spending the night at Charlie Browns house. Charlie Brown would cover for him should it be necessary even. It was Halloween night in Filthy Town and now there was nothing but the GREAT BIG PUMPKIN PATCH .... and time.
Linus gazed out at the darkness of Filthy Town from the hill top, took a deep breath, and he wondered what time it was. It felt early still. He was guessing that had he brought his watch with him he would clearly see that Mickey's small hand would be in close proximity with the eight. He felt a tinge of discomfort and realized that he was having a sugar fit and he would need to eat another candy cigarette very soon to indulge his craving and agitation. His shakey hand reached deep within his pocket to pull out the addictive pack of treats. Just as his palms rubbed the woolen material of his trousers, he heard a loud rustling of shrubbery.
The boy halted his search for candy coated relief and strained his ears and eyes for anything they might be lucky enough to absorb. A tweak of excitement began to graze his body and his brain was suddenly stormed with a possibility that could very well be his long desired anticipation ringing the bells of success. His awareness raced an exuberant dash upon his lips in the form of a smile as he began to feel a presence that waxed his outer worldly vibes. Hearing more noises, he began to move toward the essence of this presence and his smile felt as if it would ascend the limits of his face.
Just as he inched forward, he felt a delicate caress of fabric around his shoulders that would immediately be followed by a tightness that crushed down on his windpipe. With the enormous extinguishing of air into his lungs, his mind began to catch up with his eyes as he realized exactly what was happening to him. All the life that he had ever held so precious was being asphyxiated from his body by the clutches of his own blanket. His adams apple burst into pulp and in the final seconds of his life, he gazed into the leering pumpkin face of his executioner. Linus would die with a crooked smile on his face that would soon be turning blue. For at last he would know without question that the great pumpkin was indeed real.
This great pumpkin admired the full moon that held court over the darkened rows of Filthy Town and let loose a blood curdling cackling of enthusiasm. The lifeless body of Linus slipped from its knifelike fingers and crumpled to the ground. Were Linus not in fact dead, he would appear to be sleeping, as his carcass sheathed itself within the blanket that had been used to choke the life out of him. The great pumpkin molded a smirk with the carved lips that had been sliced into its Jack o' lantern face that clearly shown it to be pleased with its murderous handiwork. There was no guilt over killing Linus. He believed the great pumpkin to be real. Now he had his affirmation.
As the pumpkin demon turned to head back out into the night from atop the hill, there was a voice from behind.
"Well, now .....ain't you a sight? Big bad pumpkin face."
The pumpkin turned and faced towards only the air.
"Hey," a voice called from below, "down here."
It looked downward to be greeted with a most ghastly of sights. A decrepit looking midget wearing nothing but a demonic grin. The Gitche Manitou. Quite a vengeful demon according to evil lore. The great pumpkin had heard of Manitou. Still, it was not afraid. Just then, a glint made eye contact from one of its stumpy arms, and in a split second there was a startling thwack as the blade of a samurai sword sliced through the night air and into the neck of the great pumpkin. The pumpkin head fell to the ground with a thump, its face still wearing a startled expression. The midget hobbled over to where the head had landed and picked it up by the blade chiseled teeth.
Gitche Manitou held the severed pumpkin head of his victim in elevation towards the starry night and smiled with delight. He had the best Jack o' lantern in all of Filthy Town. Filthy Regan would be most pleased. Manitou plunged the sword mid-blade into the earth and chuckled aloud,for he knew this would be a Halloween to remember.
Gitche Manitou carried the pumpkin head cradled in both of his stubby arms toward the steps of M street, that lead upwards to Filthy Palace. Tonight would be the most glorious of evenings. He had a date with Regan Macneil. The most filthiest and beautiful creature alive. The Jack o' lantern would provide an excellent mood setter for his sexy Manitou moves.
Most women had very little appreciation for evil midgets. Manitou had not known the touch of a woman for over 800 hundred years. Had he wanted to, he could certainly have taken advantage of the crazy lady whose back he had burst from only a few weeks ago. But, that would be wrong. Like it or not, the crazy woman had birthed Gitche Manitou again into the new world. She was like his mother. Carnal relations would be wrong. Even for a Gitche Manitou that would be much too vile.
When he was burgeoning within the motherload, he had seen the movie The Exorcist through her eyes. Seen Filthy Regan. It was love at first sight. Even if that sight had not truly been his own. He held onto the image of this putrescent flower of filth for all the remaining years that he would continue formation. He had never seen a woman so truly dazzling. The way that she had regurgitated on that priest. Her sexy voice. That blistered and broken skin. For all of these years he held onto the image of her rotting face in the slumbers of the cyst on the crazy womans back. He longed to one day burst free from this cyst and kiss the chapped and crusted lips of his filthy one and only. Manitou and Regan were meant to be, and as soon as he cleansed himself of all the gore and goo from his cyst busting, he had vowed to track her down and make her his chimes of life.
Finding her had actually been easier than he thought. He saw the famous steps in a tour guide book and made the journey to Filthy town. The capital of all that is filthy. For three straight nights he had stood atop of those steps and serenaded her under her bedroom window by singing the Filthy Regan song and finally she had agreed to invite him inside. On Halloween night no doubt! At last he was going to taste the vomit encrusted lips of his beloved. Since first laying vision upon her through the eyes of the crazy lady, he had longed to make her levitate just as she did in that movie. Just to hold her clammy hand in his would make him hitch a ride on a cloud. The thought of kissing her made his manitou parts stir with delight. Surely she was quite entertaining in bed as well and a veritable mistress of dynamic positioning, for judging from her tumble down the steps in her living quarters she looked to be quite limber.
As he hopped the curb and found himself directly in line with the steps to paradise, there was a commotion and in a flash of time there landed a twisted and broken body of a priest at his tiny feet. Before he could examine the chaotic scene, he was greeted by the sight of Regan standing in the window.
"Ignore that trick or treating peasant and come on up my sexy Manitou beast," she called to him as the mist of stench arose from her lips and seemed to make a cloud around her matted hair. With that, Gitche Manitou climbed the steps to his demonic love muffin.
Regan opened the door and greeted him with a filthy smile. Standing within such close proximity of her sickening and sweet essence afforded him the luxury of taking in the succulent aroma of her rancid fragrance. He saw that her nightgown was splattered with stains and instantly found himself even more in awe of her foulness and allure. Now this was a true goddess. She hadn't even washed up for him.
Regan held down her hand to touch the face of her Gitche Manitou and as their eyes locked into each other, they both knew for certain what had once seemed to be only possible in their dreams. Their destiny was an epidemic that should be quarantined on the GREAT BIG BED OF NAILS that was upstairs in her room. The love between each of them was contagious and needed to be spread through a series of touches and love bites.
Manitou held out his arms that embraced the pumpkin head.
"I brought you a Jack o' lantern for decoration. Best one in all of Filthy Town. The head of the great pumpkin."
Regan smiled and took the pumpkin from him. She sat it on the table next to the couch and then hugged Manitou tightly.
"Thank you my sexy beast. That will look great in my window."
"I knew you would like it," Manitou said assuringly.
Regan squatted atop of the carpet and let forth a burst of diabolical urine.
"Oh yes, I like I like", she enthused.
Manitou stepped into the living room and looked around.
"Your mom isn't home is she?" he innocently asked.
Regan let loose a hideously delightful giggle and grabbed him by his stubby little arm.
"She is gone for the night. It's just you and me my meat pie," she said as she touched his head with the tip of her index finger and made sizzling noises.
Before he could take another step, Regan lead him by the arm towards the balcony and said, "come Manitou. Come. I have something to show you."
She lifted his tiny body up off of the carpet and slung him over her back.
"Ride with me baby!" she screamed as she hoisted up from the patio and towards the roof of the building.
The darkened splendor of Filthy Town was visible in full grace from the rooftop. The view could have taken Gitche Manitou's breath away had Filthy Regan not already done so. Just one look at her was all that his bitty eyes needed for him to know that this was love at its absolute maximum capacity. No woman had ever come close to the grandeur that was Filthy Regan. He must lay upon the GREAT BIG BED OF NAILS with her tonight.
Atop the roof he was greeted with a most confusing site. A jacuzzi. Manitou looked at Regan and shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't get it," he said.
Regan laughed and spoke in that crackling demon speak that he was so fond of.
"We're going to take a dip in the tub of love."
Manitou began shaking his tiny head.
"But Regan," he pleaded, "it is so cold outside. I am already small. If we get into that thing I will surely get shrinkage and become even smaller."
Regan pondered for a moment and then gasped.
"I didn't even realize that. I had thought maybe we could soothe our bodies in the waves of splendor before going up to the GREAT BIG BED OF NAILS. This I shall have to deliberate for a moment."
Within a split pea of a second, Regan let out a hearty gasp of air accompanied by a cackling and informed Gitche Manitou that she had an alternative method of gratification.
"You just leave it to me my sexy meat pack. I'll have us both in a luxurious lap of warmth that will cloak our bodies like a swarming of maggots."
Regan bent down onto the deck and dunked her head and began to slurp mouthfuls of spa water. After each gulp of water, she would fountain spit over the ledge of the roof and into the street below. Manitou simply was not believing his own eyes. Was there no end to how truly amazing this goddess of grime could be?
After the spa was emptied, Regan looked up from the ground and smiled. Just then, her face contorted itself and gurgling sounds that resembled a backed up garbage disposal began to erupt from her mouth. Manitou now realized what she was going to do and he began to jump up and down, giddy with excitement, and flapping his stubby arms about in the cool night air. Regan bent her head back down into the spa and let loose a sea of pea soupy vomit from her mouth until the spa was filled with the fetid liquid.
Regan reached out and took Manitou by the hand and lead him into the liquified comforts of her own bodies discharge. They both laid back and felt the soothing warmth upon them, taking in the moment. The aged demons could not help but know that Heaven was not a place where silly angels spread their wings to fly. Heaven was right here, right now. Manitou and Regan. Soaking the creamy warmth of Regans intestines upon their skin.
Manitou looked over and gazed in splendor at the putrid wonder of his wretched soulmate. He extended his stubby arm and ran his little sausage fingers through her matted hair. Just as he felt the moment to kiss her decaying lips was upon him, there was a scuffle behind them. They each turned their heads and saw a hulking man wearing a hockey mask and brandishing a very large machete coming towards the spa.
They both looked at each other and laughed.
"Is that...?" Regan began.
Manitou nodded his head in agreeance.
"Yep, it's Jason."
Feeling the demise of their romantic interlude, Manitou and Regan both jumped up from the spa, dripping gobs of goo onto the deck. Regan reached down into the pool of her own stomach grease and pulled out the drain grate. Her and Manitou exchanged nods and swung their legs outward into Jason's shins and the bulky oaf tumbled into the murkiness of the spa. Within seconds there was a grinding noise and Jason let out a blood curdling yelp. Manitou and Regan both looked at each other in a state of awe because Jason never elicits sound or emotion. It was clear by his wailing that he was not enjoying himself as he hit the pool of vomit and proceeded to be sucked towards the bottom of the spa from the extreme suction induced from the missing drain grate.
The force of the pull wrenched his mid-section forward and caused his upper and lower body to trail behind the rest of him. As his frame trembled in the ensuing chaos, the air and the surrounding deck were showered with floods of regurgitation. Jason felt his deformed private region ripped from his body as he was pulled into the depths of Regan's gooey juices. After a minute or so, Regan went over to the switch and turned the filter off and just as the suction field was broken, Jason's shredded corpse burst from the spa and landed on the edges of the deck in a mangled heap.
Manitous jaw dropped as he witnessed the display of carnage.
"Holy shitstorm!" he exclaimed, "Jason got his junk caught in the drain! That's what he gets for being a cockblocker to the young and perpetually horny."
Regan smiled at Manitou and spoke in her best bedroom voice.
"Well, he is not going to stop us my sexy meat pit."
Regan stretched out her hand and Manitou climbed up her arm and onto her back for a ride to the GREAT BIG BED OF NAILS. As they both headed to their shangri-la they glimpsed one last time at the mutilated body of Jason. His cockblocking days were over at last. Somewhere in the distance, the clock struck midnight and the chimes of Filthy Town rang loudly. Another Halloween had come to an end. A Halloween in Filthy Town. Where dreams come true.....
and sometimes nightmares.
*****Since I don't really pay attention to any sort of trends I had no idea there was a such thing as "fan fiction." When I began writing short stories I would mostly write them for me and Chimes. They would feature characters like us (Manitou and Regan), Belial from Basketcase, etc. This story was one of the earliest in a series of Manitou and Filthy Regan stories. I place it sometime around Halloween 2010. I knew that I couldn't sell it, on account of all the characters in it. When I started seeing stuff about fan fiction I realized this was pretty much what I had been doing. I figured, if other people post their fan fiction why not post some of mine?*****
