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Ghostober: Humphrey Dumpty Neck Slice edition

Chapter Text

"It's Halloween tomorrow!" Pat cried, looking at the calendar in the kitchen which read 'October 30th'. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"I'm not sure I do, Pat," Alison said, glancing up from her evening meal.

"On Halloween, at exactly midnight a disturbance occurs." He glanced around at the others. Kitty, despite having seen many Halloweens of this sort, looked terrified.

"Oh no!" She gasped.

"It's alright, Katherine," the Captain reassured her.

Pat continued. "As soon as the last stroke of midnight has finished, there's a movement through the house. If you're quiet enough, you can just hear it." Alison still looked stumped. With no warning, Pat suddenly exclaimed. "The flesh friends come out to play!"

"Fleshy friends!" Robin repeated in excitement.

"Flesh friends?" She asked, slightly alarmed.

"Just you wait and see."

-

Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. The final stroke of midnight chimed.

At first, as the resounding ring died, it appeared that nothing happened. Silence reigned through the group of anticipating people, both dead and alive, who stood in the dark room. Then, there was a distant sound.

As the soft dragging noise grew closer, the awaiting audience drew nearer to one another in fear. Into the room, like a discoid caterpillar, came Humphrey's neck slice.

Alison breathed a sigh of relief. "But that's just-"

"Just you wait." Pat cut her off.

"Hush, hush!" Thomas gestured violently for them all to remain quiet and listened intently.

Another distant disturbance could be heard. It was quieter than the neck slice, which had now come to a standstill in front of them several feet away, but there was a similarity in the noise it made.

"Heres it comes." Mary murmured into the tense silence.

Julian glanced at Alison sideways with a sly expression. "Get ready."

Something Alison had never seen rounded the corner. It was smaller than the neck slice, but bore resemblance to it. It was, however, cylindrical and rolled to move rather than slithered.

In the dark next to her, Thomas clapped a hand dramatically to his side. To his bullet hole. Was that-?

"Thomas' bullet sausage." Pat explained, as matter-of-factly as if he'd just declared his favourite colour.

"His what?" Alison asked.

"The matter displaced from my abdomen when that musket ball pierced me so brutally. Oh how I-"

Pat gently quietened him. "Shh, mate. The others are still coming."

"Others?"

The group watched as the bullet sausage came to rest next to the slice.

"Good to see the troops are falling into line," the Captain approved with a nod. Though nobody saw him shiver slightly, unnerved as the third faraway noise started up.

"Oh God," Alison groaned. Another slither of meat was now in the doorway, gradually inching its way across the room towards them. "And whose-"

Pat looked solemn as this piece of flesh came closer, slowly raising a hand to where the arrow pierced his neck. Alison understood his wordless reply.

Pat's own neck bit joined the slice and bullet sausage in their neat line.

Humphrey's voice spoke quietly from where Kitty was clutching his head tightly in fear. "Ooh, there's my slice's fellow neck buddy. Hello, little guy."

There was still silence for a few seconds. A quick analysis of the ghosts' deaths told Alison that there shouldn't be any other additions.

"So, that's-"

The Captain spoke. "Not quite."

Alison braced herself. Sure enough, another vague dragging sound began. Sound? Sounds. There was definitely more than one. It- they appeared to be moving as a group.

From the doorway, a number of small, fleshy objects of various shapes came creeping in. Alison felt her jaw drop as they all edged closer to the line-up of meat pieces. She was too afraid to ask until they also came to an eventual stop, sat in a small line themselves alongside the other flesh bits. Even Fanny looked mournful.

"Well, there they are," Pat said in a voice barely above a whisper.

The Captain raised his hand in a sad salute.

Alison found her voice to speak. It came out slightly hoarse. "Dare I ask whose those last pieces are?"

There was a moment of quiet and Alison found she was holding her breath in anticipation.

An unexpected voice spoke - Fanny's slightly disgusted yet hurt voice: "The plague ghosts."