The Pranksters

Halloween has always seemed fascinating to me, ever since I learned the word. As a kid too, I liked the idea, not because of the candies - as the others did but because of the spooky pranks. This was going to be my 14th Halloween and I was indeed looking forward to scaring the life out of people... or, people out of life?

 Whatever that works.

I'll be needing a helping hand though, not because I cannot play pranks alone but because I can't bear the after-effects alone. The guy who's helping me, however, isn't the kind you watch in action movies who accompanies the antagonist, not at all!
He's the kind you find in teen movies - the bad guy's dumb friend who always makes silly mistakes. I've trained him well though, so that problem could go on holidays for the timing.

And anyway, like I said the prank and I can handle ourselves. He's there to help me with the after-effects (adults getting mad at us kinds of things) 

I had the entire scene worked out in my brain pretty well. So for me, in the reality, it was just replaying. 

Me and Max - the partner in crime, entered the once known as a ballroom which now looks totally ruined and so does the entire palace which was the chosen venue for the evening. 

Rumors had it that the place was haunted, that explains why we are here. The more horrified people already are, easier for us to play some pranks.

Max had been talking inarticulately for a considerably long amount of time. Maybe not 'inarticulately' if you consider the fact that I was only half-listening to him-

 

My eyes were fixed on the people there and my brain was hungry for a good hunt and new prey, or shall I say preys?

A woman dressed in dark violet gown wearing heavy makeup followed by whiskers and eyeliner that made her 'spooky cat look' complete was sipping red vine and couldn't seem more reluctant to be present there.

A man with casual sweatshirt and trousers then caught my attention, but the crowd was moving too fast for me to have noticed him carefully. 

"Mirren", "MIRREN!" yells Max right into my ear - his words hitting like drum-sticks on my eardrum.

"WHAT?" 

I couldn't have been more annoyed but as I ask the question I realize that I'd almost ignored Max all this time, so maybe he's the one who shall be annoyed.

"what?" I ask again

 

"That man! on my 5 O' clock"

"Yes, what about him" 

 

the emphasis was obvious, but he didn't notice it-

 

"He looks different as compared to the rest...he's in casuals!"

Okay, now I cannot stop. I let myself laugh. A clear ringing laugh.

There was an innocent garbage bin on his 5 O' clock!

"So you wish to see that garbage bin dressed in a nice party wear?"

He gives me a quizzical glance, then shakes his head despite himself.

"I'm sorry, 11 O' clock I meant"

I'd stopped laughing by then. My partner in crime had done some good job searching for our prey, excuse his calculations though.

He was the same guy I had had a glimpse of the earlier - black casual shirt, black trousers, angular pale white face and hair trimmed short. Except for this time, I could notice him a bit better. He had the same expressions that most of the people in that party wore - as if they could be anywhere but here...

Because they were...scared?

This was gonna be FUN, I thought.

I signal Max to go for it. He unbuttons his jacket revealing fake wounds and scars all over his hands and the major one on his wrist, the creepiest of all.

I shove my jacket onto the chair I was sitting in a while ago. That jacket had covered my neck, so now a wide bright red stab of paint on my neck is exposed. My sudden new avatar is enough for you to lose sleep over-

We both head for the man's table but are highly disappointed by seeing our school teacher sitting right in front of him. We're good students after all...ironic that I'm saying this, isn't it? But well, my in-school reputation is remarkable. So I signal Max to return to our table, but very subtle...I'm not willing to catch Mrs Oliver's attention at any cost. 

 

No luck. 

 

Then, I try mouthing 'mission abort' but in vain.

Max reaches their table for a chat and I helplessly follow suit.

This was going BAD, I knew.

We're close enough for Mrs Oliver to give us a forceful acknowledging smile. 

Good, so she did acknowledge us.

And, WOW! she has winced at our scars as well...

I feel dumb as ever.

"Hey there, how're you been doing?" Max asks as if nothing's strange. But I'm glad for the distraction, I could feel some tension loosening. 

But then, I feel it growing...more and nothing but MORE

My parents had given me a tight warning to get rid of my "Halloween"; "Ghosts" and "spooky stuff" obsession. 

Mrs Oliver is nearly a family friend to us.

I'm caught doing something.

Something that could only qualify for stupid.

Could this all have been any worse?

"I'm fine, but you look...different"

Yeah, we're drenched in bright red paint which could easily pass for blood if this weren't a Halloween party and we both are here to scare the life out of the man who was sitting with you a while ago but now, vanished into the crowd so Max is pissed and I'll be grounded by my parents for "spooky pranks" which you'll tell them off so yes, I'm pissed too.

And different? oh yeah! we are looking different.

"Yeah" is all I could manage to say since no other word could fit better.

"Remove that paint off your neck Mirren! looks sick"

"Yeah"

"I shall let your mommy know that you're still up to-"

"A Halloween party? Is that wrong now?" I interrupt.

"hmm...the paint looks gross and-"

"Yeah, Okay!" I snap.

She smiles now and I feel more ashamed of how childish my behavior was turning.

I sounded like a five-year-old deprived of chocolates..!

"What were you trying to paint there by the way?" she asks after a thoughtful pause pointing out the paint on my neck.

How does that matter anyway?  urgh

 

"The kind of wound a stab of knife leaves..?" I answer.

She starts laughing like I'm a joke and I'm beyond annoyed now.

"well then, let me tell you wounds leave scars and the blood goes away after a while"

Okay, WOW as if I didn't know.

Max opens his mouth and closes it abruptly and then again opens it to ask: "Where are you from?"

What? does he think small talk is going on? I welcome the change of subject gladly though.

"USSR," says, Mrs Oliver.

"Russia, you mean" I snap, feeling a weird kind of proud of myself for the correction.

"Nope, U-S-S-R" 

Max whispers under his breath to me, "The lady has got some weak general knowledge" 

I smile.

"or...weak history?" he amends.

"or...does she belong to the history? she's so old-fashioned!" and we both laugh.

I'm willing to leave now, nothing's coming out of this day...nothing good anyway.

 

But before I even leave my chair, Mrs Oliver gets up to leave.

"Excuse me, I have some appointments...will have to-" she trails off.

"No problem! Enjoyed your company" I say, blandly.

She smiles and flicks her hair to one side of her shoulder facing her back towards us slowly moving towards the exit and leaving me horrified. 

I saw something.

Max did too, his expressions said it.Then

 

 

Two sentences went on and on in my brain in a vicious cycle-

First one by me, "or does she belong to the history?"

and the second one by Mrs Oliver, "wounds leave scars"

Max takes a deep breath and says, "So she was a woman with a sca-"

I don't let him finish his sentence. I cannot hear it.

"Let's just say she was a woman with weak general knowledge." I say instead.