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The Serafino Samhain Celebration
- The Serafino Samhain Celebration -
It was a chilly autumn... not cold mind you, for it had been a very hot summer of the sort that leads into winter gently, which made for a longer autumn season than usual. Halloween was upon the land, and to those of Pagan inclination that meant equated to the more ancient solemnity of Samhain. In the old house that lay atop the high hill, surrounded as it was by a dense forest of pines and surrounding marshlands.... all of which lay within a valley with forbidding dark mountains that were covered with craggy peaks and cliffs too precarious for anyone to scale... a light appeared in the attic. It was a lamp, and the lamp was held by what appeared to be a rather tall and cadaverous looking man in a black suit appropriate for his job as a butler. He rarely spoke, did his tasks without question, and was as loyal a servant as anyone could ask for. He was checking on some of the valuables that were stored there, and ran his rough hand... the one that was free... over the lip of a large and heavy sarcophagus. It was of a type not seen since the days of the ancient civilizations, and may have even predated many of those! But no one could remember exactly enough to say. It had always been in that house, in that attic, even before the present owners moved in and decided to call the place their own. The butler knew what lay within it, and knew enough to treat the sarcophagus with the utmost care. He was sweeping off the dust and proceeded to clean it with a cloth from one of his jacket pockets. “Too dirty, too messy!” he said to himself. He often talked to himself, and many thought him mad because of that. Perhaps he was. Soon, a voice echoed forth from the sarcophagus, saying: “Are you finished yet, sir? It is difficult to sleep if one hears brushing sounds against the surface... and yes, my hearing is just that perfect as I am certain you remember.” to which the butler replied: “I remember, madame, and that is precisely why I think the sarcophagus is in need of a proper cleaning!” His voice was raspy with age, and yet he never seemed to get any older... he merely remained ancient looking. He had looked this way when he first entered into the family's service, and he could probably live another three hundred years and never look a single bit different ere his end came. The voice from within the sarcophagus was a woman's voice... young and a great deal on the vibrant side, with a hint of a mischievous sense of humor to every word spoken. It did oft make it so that the butler never knew if the mistress was joking or not. She was, regardless, never a person to joke around, despite her seeming silliness. She found her mirth in other ways. “Madame, it is Samhain season once again... you really, really should wake up and join in the festivities downstairs.” The butler was insistent in how he worded that, but polite as was his manner. He got no answer and let out a bored sigh. Or was it a frustrated one? It was hard to tell with him. Samhain was sacred to them... to the whole family... and for the mistress of the house to miss it would be more than a bit unthinkable.
The sarcophagus' lid suddenly slid aside, operated as it was by a mechanism from within... and out of the burial object sat up, stretching her arms and yawning as she did so, a very beautiful young woman. She was tall, slim but not skinny, and had dusky colored skin that went well with her jet black hair. She wore her hair long, and it cascaded down to her ankles. Her eyes were a pale blue and her lips full and naturally reddish tinted. When she wore lipstick, it was merely to accentuate this splendid aspect of her features. She was wearing a long evening gown of a Victorian style with long billowing sleeves and a low-cut neck that revealed the ample cleavage of her generous breasts. And despite being slim, she had a perfect hourglass figure, which said much about her fine bone structure. She was smiling after she did finish yawning, and asked what time it was. “It is near midnight yet, Marlowe?” to which the butler so replied: “No, madame, it is but five o'clock in the afternoon... precisely.” and he checked his ornate but cracked pocket watch to make certain. The mistress appeared relieved, and clambered out from the old coffin in order to stretch her legs. The nightgown was a bit thin but not sheer... and were Marlowe not a eunuch he doubtless would have appreciated the look of the woman standing before him. But the butler had now use for women... he lived only to serve, quite literally, and could be sent back unto dust easily.
The mistress thought about that fact as she made ready to descend the attic stairs and see about going to her room to get dressed. “From dust I raised you, Marlowe... though unto it I am loathe to see you so return!” she exclaimed ere they parted company and he set about his various duties. The mistress made all haste to her chambers after that, skipping along childishly as she went... she was mad. Everyone in the whole family knew it, and they all loved and adored her for it! To such as they, madness was a kind of divine gift, and the sort of thing one could be proud of rather than ashamed to admit to. Her room... it was very elaborately and opulently decorated... with surrealist paintings on many of the walls, cases and shelves containing countless curios and objects of arcane variety, and at least one tapestry that showed the family's coat of arms. It was just a pity that this particular tapestry had been defaced by the mistress so completely that nothing whatsoever of the actual coat of arms could be seen on it any longer. Rather, a great number of skulls and demonic looking shapes were there in place of the noble image... some of them painted in human blood. Only human blood would do! Animal blood was inferior, she often said. And if she said a thing, then it had to be true, at least according to her. The rest were painted in blackest and darkest charcoal and paint... or some mixture thereof. Magic marker and crayon too! When she did wish to make a statement, one could be certain it would endure indelibly. She cast open her closet doors with a flourish and sang a song to herself as she tried to decide which dress to put on. “Let me see!” she began. “Black silk bloomers for undergarments... a black silk chemise to cover my bosom... and ah yes indeed, I believe I will pick this gown here. It is absolutely perfect for tonight! Black, muslin material, and elegant.” She only stopped singing long enough to say all of that aloud, as if she were explaining to an audience only she knew was listening to her. It was not a hard choice... all of her clothing was either black or red, or combinations of both colors. She owned one pink gown, but she absolutely hated it! It was just not her color in the least. The gown was beautiful, with soft sleeves just as low and billowing as her nightgown, and a neckline just as plunging despite the gown's otherwise Victorian sensibility. Of course, she had tailored the neckline herself! She was quite good with needle and thread, having used her sewing skills often to stitch the wounded back during the war. Which war? She could not remember any longer, it was just that long ago. Sometimes she used it to stitch peoples' eyes or mouths closed. Ah the good old days! She thought, when the memories crossed into her mind sometimes unbidden. She did hurry and get dressed in a reasonable manner... the nightgown was the only white garment she had ever owned, and she liked it merely because she looked somewhat ethereal whenever actually wearing it. She had large eyes, and they sparkled and glimmered brightly in the moonlight... when it was night, that is. She never missed the evening! That was her time, her moment to feel alive. She did not sleep her days through though, and only rested in her sarcophagus when she needed to replenish her vitality. Unlike some of her kind, she was fairly reasonable about such things. She got back to singing once she was dressed, and brushed her hair carefully to make certain it looked perfect before using a hair cone to put it back and away from her face. The hair cone was gold... real gold, not imitation, and probably it was centuries old. Pretty much brand new compared to how ancient she herself actually was. She only appeared human, after all, but she liked the look and so she kept it. She put on some gold earrings after that, a ruby pendant on a long, thin golden chain necklace, and slipped a pair of black slippers unto her feet. Perfume and a wink to herself in the mirror completed her routine! She had showered the previous night, and still smelled of flowers (she always added flower petals to her baths, and when she showered she used only the types of body washes that had floral scents to them). “I must admit! I look fabulous.” she exclaimed, deciding she had sung enough, and proceeded to glide along out the door... her walk had always been just that graceful... and downstairs to the living room, where her family was awaiting her. The house had many floors, and many levels to it... much of it was maze-like and all of it she knew like the back of her hand, if not better. Unlike the rest of her family... she had always lived here. For this is where her sarcophagus had always been. Everyone else came later. “Oh, how I adore this time of year!”
Those had been her words as she rushed into the spacious, comfortable looking living room with its' big couches, roaring fireplace, and grand decorations. She looked mad, as mad as ever, as the grin on her face expressed more vividly than any words ever could. “Darling, you look as ravishingly insane as ever! No wonder I love you so much.” said the proper looking gentleman who stood by the hearth. He wore a black Victorian gentleman's suit... all black, but with a white undershirt. The only garment that he owned which was white, and only that because it was silk and he had a fondness for the feel of it on his skin. He skin was pale white... much like an albino's might be... yet his shoulder-length hair was jet black in color. Blue-black actually, which merely accentuated his peculiar appearance. Yes, he had a proper sort of look to his face... that is to say, he looked noble and reserved. Of course, he was neither of those things! His hair was slicked back, and his eyebrows neatly plucked to the point of looking a bit on the feminine side. He was hairless... and not because he shaved either. He simply had no body hair to speak of except for his long eyelashes. His eyes were red in color, again a trait of an albino, but yet other than his pallor he was healthy, strong, and had none of the traits of an albino otherwise. He was, incidentally, not an albino, just for the sake of clarification in case the reader was wondering about this! The four children were off busily playing in one of the large room's shadowy corners. How they adored the shadows, just like their parents had when they were little! It did their father's heart good to see this. He smiled, always pleasantly when he was in these sorts of brighter moods, and finished his glass of red wine before throwing the glass into the fireplace, where it shattered and was left to burn. Money was no object to his family, and so what was the matter if one glass was shattered every once in a while! They had plenty more in the cellar and full stocks in the kitchen anyway. “Do you fear me, wife?” he said in a devilish tone after that. The mistress replied: “Never! Do you fear me?” to which his reply was a very honest one: “Oh, very much yes!” to which the mistress smiled happily and said: “Good! Then all is as it should be.” they then embraced and kissed passionately. The master of the house touched her breasts lustily, to which his wife reminded him: “Now now, darling, not in front of the children!” and he let his blood calm down after that, restraining himself from delving further into the depravity that was one of his defining qualities. The very thing that the mistress always found so endearing about her husband in fact. She was more than a bit depraved herself, after all, and delightfully so by her side of the family's standards. One of the children screamed loudly... a cry of pain echoing through the living room. “Ah! Do you not miss being their age, beloved?” the man said to his wife, who herself admitted: “The things we did! The people we tortured... it was so much fun, being young once.” They did not bother to check on the children. These things happened all the time, and they were only being children after all. Hardly anything to worry about! It was not as if they could actually die anyway. Despite their rough variety of play, and the sharp objects they sometimes employed in their games. The clock struck the sixth hour... and out of the large grandfather clock emerged a stylized snake made of wood that hissed loudly as it did every time the sixth hour in the afternoon came around. It then popped back into the clock and that was that. “Whose idea was that snake, anyway?” Asked the man, to which his wife replied: “I think that was our daughter's idea... the youngest, I mean. Such a clever girl!” And that was how they began their evening together for the Samhain holiday. Naturally, they had to take the scalpel away from the oldest boy... once they retrieved it from his younger brother's leg. The wound was bloodless and healed quite instantly. They had to draw the line somewhere, after all... how else, were children supposed to learn! The butler hated cleaning up after the children, but he did it all the same. He had no choice, his soul so being bound to his master and mistress along with the contract he signed after being raised from dust to serve them. It was this, or the grave, for him... and as much as he actually had not minded being dead, he still liked being alive and nearly immortal (though not quite) that much more. At least the children made less of a mess than their parents did when they had to get rid of certain visitors! Blood was quite difficult to get out of certain kinds of carpeting, after all. Especially, in such ridiculously large amounts.
The mistress' name was Vandella, but everyone simply called her Vanda, which she encouraged to the utmost extent. Her husband's name was Anton, and back when they first met people were not using last names in those days. Point of fact, those had not even been their names back then! But that was always beside the point for them. They had agreed to use the last name of Serafino, and so that was their family name and had been at the very least since the early renaissance. Vandella and Anton Serafino! Anton, at least, was Italian so it made sense... or, at the very least, he was of the same blood as the most remote of all ancestors of the Italian peoples. Something he was quite proud of mentioning to anybody who had a care to hear him talk of it. Anton had been thinking about that wistfully, when he and Vanda sat down on a couch to watch the children play. He said to her: “Darling... do you remember, back when I joined the Mafia?” and she corrected him: “It was the Borgia family, dearest, not the Mafia!” to which he then exclaimed: “Yes, that is right! But you have to admit, Vanda my love, the Borgia family was incredibly similar to the Mafia. All those fantastically gruesome murders and elaborate intrigues! And how about that fine fellow Cesare... I always hope that our boys grow up to be as fine a fellow as he was. After all, he did pose for many paintings of Jesus Christ! Quite the honor.” to which Vanda shrieked a bit before saying somewhat angrily: “Anton! I told you, never say that name in our house.” to which she so meant the name of Jesus. Anton knew right away what she was on about and genuinely apologized: “Oh, I did so forget how terribly that name affects you, beloved! Here, let me make it up to you.” and they kissed. She forgave him easily for such slips of the tongue. After all... there was that time he more than made up for having once served the Church by going on to influence the Borgia family in the delightful ways that eventually caused them to corrupt it utterly during the time when Cesare's father was the pope. Of course, the Borgias had not needed much help in the corruption department, but every little bit helped! Naturally, as Anton kissed Vanda he groped her obscenely... he never could help himself when they had sat on this one particular couch together. She smacked his face, smiling wickedly, to which he replied in a lusty tone of voice: “Now, Vanda, my darling! Not in front of the children... you know how much I like it when you slap me like that.” and they were both becoming very sensually aroused by each other.
The children were paying no attention to their parents' subsequent lovemaking... the slap was what at last drove them both to go at it as they were now doing. The oldest out of the two boys, Vito, was busy squeezing his younger brother Anthony's head as hard as he possibly could manage it. So brutally hard, that little Tony's eyes looked to be practically ready to start bulging, even though they naturally did not. “Why don't your eyes ever pop?” Vito asked Tony with a visibly disappointed expression upon his face. To which the younger boy said in a frustrated manner: “Vito! You know I can't die by violence. None of us can... that's the blessing mother put on us when we were born. But all the same... this still hurts, you big jerk! Knock it off!!!” and they started to beat each other up, which they did often. Vito always won, but Tony liked the challenge of taking him on all the same. Vito was fourteen years old, and was the spitting image of his father. Tony was twelve years old, and resembled his mother to such a degree that his features were somewhat androgynous because of the strength of that feminine resemblance. He was Vanda's favorite boy, while of course Anton favored Vito. They loved both boys though, and made a habit of spoiling them rotten. Ridiculously rotten, and it showed. The boys were wearing black velvet knickers and black cotton blouses that were quite a great deal feminine looking, but which looked fine on them. The boys both looked more feminine than masculine anyway, and it was likely neither would ever have to shave when they grew up... just like their father. Vito was only slightly less feminine in his facial features, but like his father he plucked his eyebrows to make up for it. Both boys had coal black hair and red eyes. Tony's androgyny was due to him having been born a hermaphrodite and yet still he expressed an endless desire to live as a boy, despite also being a girl. He was a very patient child too... and he would get terrible revenge on Vito for squeezing his face. His revenge schemes always worked.
So, while Vito always won their battles... Tony always won their wars, since he was a born planner. A thing that his parents never failed to find fascinating about the boy genius. For yes, he was also out of the two boys the more brilliant one, with a love of science and the family penchant for sadism fully and blissfully intact. Their two sisters were off by one of the windows overlooking the cemetery outside, for yes the family had their own private cemetery. Both girls had the blue black hair of their father, rather than the coal black hair of their mother that the boys had been blessed with... and the two girls were in fact identical twins who had skin as pale and albino-like as their father's own. But they had the precise same eye color as their mother, that shade of blue that is so light and vibrant that it is practically aglow in certain lighting. The twin sisters were the same age, both thirteen, and yet the two of them in all truth could not have been more different from each other. Christina and Maria were their names... both wore long white muslin dresses with red bloomers peeking out from beneath their skirts. The dresses sleeves were long and full, and around their waists the twin girls wore red sash belts the same color as was the bloomers they wore... also a match for the red ribbons they wore in their long wavy hair. Upon their ankles they wore black ankle-length socks and their feet sported white dress shoes that would not at all have been inappropriate to see decorating the feet of a porcelain doll. Normally, they wore black but it was Halloween after all and so they decided to wear white and red for the occasion. Their mother was fully approving of this, and their father never complained about anything the girls ever did... no matter how terrible. The girls were whispering and giggling, evidently plotting something as usual. Maria did say unto Christina: “I hate it when Vito bullies Tony like that... I think we should take Vito down into the cellar to torture some sense into him. I think mother would not mind if we used the thumbscrews or the rack just this once.” to which the other sister replied: “Christie, sister dear, sister my own... why the rack and thumbscrews when there is an iron maiden just as serviceable?” and so their conversation thus continued in this manner for some time before all four of the children decided to take their antics down into the cellar after all. Soon enough, Vanda and Anton were alone and quite sated with passion at least for the time being. Anton's neck had two puncture wounds in it from Vanda's fangs, and they bled more than a bit, though he was smiling about it the whole time. “Why Anton, look! You bled for me tonight. You do not always allow yourself to.” the mistress of the house said, to which her husband answered: “I decided to be playful for you, since it is Halloween after all... and Samhain too, as if it ever could hope to be otherwise when the dark season is well and truly upon the land.” And this talk of dark and gloom made Vanda a very happy vampire... for indeed, as one could tell by now, a vampire is precisely what the noble lady actually was. An ancient, and powerful, vampire... though in this modern age, she often just wanted to be known as Vanda. Plain and simple, even though she was neither plain nor simple. Oh she was mad, most certainly! But not simple by any stretch of the imagination. Vito's screams echoed a great deal throughout the house, along with Tony's laughter and the giggling of the two twin sisters. A warm smile came to Vanda's face on hearing all of this. She said contentedly: “Oh my love, listen! I do believe they are really making young Vito suffer quite tremendously this time. They are truly children after our own hearts!” to which Anton remarked slyly: “Oh come now, my dear flower of darkness; we both know that you have no heart to speak of!” and she giggled childishly, admitting: “You know me a lot better than I know myself sometimes, I think.” and they went off to clean themselves up and see to the preparations for the night's celebrations. The requisite altar would have to be set up in the cemetery outside... the victims the family captured earlier in the week would need to be harvested of their fear so that the holiday could be honored properly. Naturally, once that was done, the victims would need to be killed and buried in the cemetery in one of the mausoleums set up for that purpose. And, any children who arrive for trick or treating would need to be frightened away... something of a tradition that was a bonding experience for the whole family. The twin girls especially enjoyed taking part in that activity! They had a good knack for inspiring fear in general, and were always unique in how they went about it.
The butler helped Anton set up the altar... it was a bit chilly out at the hour they picked, chillier than previously in the day, but they managed everything nicely enough despite that. Anton bundled up in all the proper ways, but the butler... he being what and how he was... did not feel the cold in any case so he did not need to bundle up at all. They used a stone slab that was already there, and upon it they drew an inverted pentagram in goat's blood... mostly fresh from this morning's satanic sacrifices, making sure to draw the goat's head in the middle of it and all the demonic names and symbols that were required to be at each point of the pentagram. Call Anton whatever you will, but he was thorough... and very specific when it came to honoring the family traditions. He even used some of his own blood in the fixing up of the altar, and soon it definitely looked quite evil. He smiled, nodding his head and dusting off his hands at a job well done. He asked the butler if there was any goat's blood left and the butler handed him a big glass filled with the stuff, which the master of the house then sniffed before gulping down. Once he had slaked his thirst, he remarked: “What an excellent vintage! We shall have to bottle more for later I think once we've some time to spare for the task.” They exhumed the skeletons of two of last year's victims... and placed both on either side of the altar, dressing them in black hooded robes and putting candles in their bony hands, which they then lit. One candle... the one that went on the left-handed side... was all black in color. The right-side one was blood red. “Do you think that will do, master?” asked the butler, to which Anton thought for a moment before agreeing: “Yes, yes I think that will do very well indeed.” And so that part of the night's preparations was seen to. At the same time, Vanda and the children were busy in the cellar, dealing with the victims that were mentioned earlier... a man and a woman, both of them a normal, average suburban couple. They were a long way away from the suburbs now! And far enough on the outskirts of town that no one would hear them scream. Oh, did they scream too! But as was stated, they did so with no hope of being heard by anyone who might care to rescue them from the horrors that were about to unfold. The woman wore a pink knee-length dress and had perfectly trimmed shoulder-length blonde hair. The man wore a preppy looking outfit that would have been probably a lot better suited for someone younger than he was. He had sandy colored hair and looked like one of those sorts who although nearly middle age was still trying very futilely to live out his youth. Or recapture it somehow... either way, he was a most foolish fellow and his wife cheated on him frequently, and only remained with the man because he spoiled and pampered her like the princess she was not and never would be. They had a white poodle named fluffy... because why would they not! And, fluffy... was just fed to a pool of piranhas right in front of their very eyes. Naturally, the couple was shackled to a wall in full view of the pool, their eyes held open with metal clamps so that they could not look away from the gory scene of their dog's demise. The woman was crying hysterically, near to madness already. And the man was screaming and had thrown up all over his preppy clothes... he had a weak stomach for blood and gore and never liked horror movies for that reason. Ironic, since he was living a horror story now! Vito and Tony had beaten him in the stomach following that, just to make sure he had puked up more than enough. Vanda and the twin sisters went to work on the woman... cutting here, sewing there, and before their work was done the woman's face looked a great deal different from before. Her mouth was sewn shut so that she could not scream so much as whimper, and her tongue had been cut out in order to make any screaming pointless a pointless endeavor in the first place. Christina got creative and cut what looked like gills into the sides of the woman's neck, which bled a great deal. And Maria removed the woman's nose, and fed it to the piranhas immediately afterwards. The couple was terrified beyond belief, and their shared terror was fueling the magic of the night. The twins were laughing, giggling, all around having the time of their lives as they further mutilated the woman while their mother watched them as they worked, approvingly. The boys had beaten the preppy man within an inch of his life, his face by now was a bloody, mashed in pulp that was so horrible looking it was a shock to notice he was actually still alive after so much torturous abuse. “Father would love this!” Vito so remarked in passing.
After Tony castrated the man and fed his genitalia to... you guessed it... the piranhas, it was time to do the right thing and put the couple out of their misery. The floor beneath the two victims was covered in the man and woman's blood, urine, and feces before the end. Along with pieces of skin and entrails that were left over after both victims were thoroughly disemboweled. The twin girls used scalpels to cut the two hapless individuals' throats and after that all four children set about cutting the bodies apart with a pair of bone saws that were kept in the cellar just for occasions such as this. The body parts were fed to the piranhas, and anything left over would be fed to the man-eating pigs that the family kept out in the pig pen on the far side of the back yard. “Well, that takes care of that!” Vanda remarked, and she and the four children went to clean the blood off of themselves. Mostly off of their hands, faces and hair... since they had been smart enough to wear over their clothes special overdresses that kept their regular clothing from getting any blood on it. They always burned those later, and got new ones for next time. The butler would clean off the utensils and take care of any evidence of the murders. Then, the bones would be taken to the proper mausoleum... and nobody would ever learn what happened to that couple. Vanda had read a lot of mystery novels over the years, watched a lot of crime dramas on television. She had a natural mind for crime, and had never in all her ages long existence been caught committing one yet. That was something Anton had always admired about his wife! She was creative, inventive, and a very smart lady. Had this family bent their minds to doing less evil activities... there is no telling what they might have accomplished. But perish such a thought! Good deeds were unbecoming of them, and this family took a great delight in all that was mad, cruel, sinister and evil. They really did not know of anything else, nor did they wish to. Halloween was their greatest joy, the season that most summed up to them what it meant to truly be alive. Or rather, to truly be deathless as was the case with them! For it was not quite accurate to call such creatures as they were alive in the strictest and most correct sense of that word's meaning. It was several hours later, almost the time for the trick or treating to begin... when Tony surprised his father out in the cemetery. Anton was busy reading from an original copy of a very ancient book of necromancy that he had acquired once in Damascus from a certain insane Arab wizard or sorcerer, or something back when the book was first penned. It was nice of the sorcerer to make him a copy, especially since human flesh and the blood used to pen the tome were not always easy to come by. But regardless... the deed was done, and here we are. Tony was wearing a devil mask and jumped unto his father's back after climbing a tree that loomed over the place where the dark altar was set up. Anton was a good sport about it, saying: “Ah, Tony my boy! You nearly had me there for a minute... I thought the summoning spell had called something up already. But it never works that fast, so I should have known better!” and he let Tony read some verses out of the unholy book as a reward for being so festive for the holiday. “You make a good devil, son... one day, you will be more evil than I am I think! But only if you beat Vito to it first, since I must admit he sometimes has a good head start on you in the evil department.” and they had a good time attempting to summon eldritch horrors from other planes of existence together. The children who came by to trick or treat always came late... they saved this house for last, and honestly you can clearly see why. The cruelest trick ever was when Vito stole a razor from a house in town, stuffed it into an apple, and then... while wearing a costume and mask so that nobody would recognize him... he went to a Halloween party hosted at the local grade school and left the apple in with a bunch of others that the teachers had prepared to hand out to the students who attended. By the time someone bit into that apple, he was long gone and laughing like the young madman he literally was. The man whose razor it had been was arrested for the crime not long after, and no one ever learned the real truth of the matter. Vito honestly did not feel like getting up to that kind of mischief this year though... preferring to spend this Halloween with his family instead. He was twisted and perverse, as a true Serafino should be... but he genuinely loved his parents and siblings all the same. It might in truth have been heartwarming, were his loyalty to his fellow fiends not chilling given their penchant for evil.
This year saw the arrival of some troublesome teenagers rather than the typical trick or treating kids... and these teens had chosen the worst possible house to attempt to prank, as was their want. They had, in their foolishness, believed that it would be an easy thing to just go over to that large old mansion and smash some pumpkins, toss some toilet paper around, and throw eggs at the walls. All they knew about the family that lived there was that they were eccentric... and that the children were home schooled, the parents seemed to be retired or at least wealthy enough to never have to work, and that visitors came to that house but rarely. And when the Serafino family, on occasion, had a mind to go to town... they were always quite aloof, somewhat antisocial, and they always, always kept always to themselves. Always! It never varied, with them. They were private, brooding people in the eyes of the public, and no one really could say that they knew a single factual thing about them. They also seemed to not quite be living in a way that was exactly current with the times, which made many assume they were backward. Or at the very least intentionally anachronistic... which was sort of true in a way. But they were far from being a backward family! Since backward could also imply a simple-mindedness that was as far from the truth as one could get. The Serafino family knew how to scheme... they had been doing it for centuries now! If not longer. It was in their very blood, and they were quite proud of it. The boys and girls who showed up to play their delinquent pranks were dressed like the usual street toughs they imagined themselves to be, and what they never told each other or themselves was that this was to compensate for them being quite cowardly and foolish. It was around eight at night, the punks had decided to walk it rather than drive... and none of them brought so much as a cell phone with them. “Nobody is going to be there! I'll bet that whole weird family is probably in bed by now.” one of the teenagers, a tall boy with a bit of a spiky short hairstyle said, on noticing his friends appearing extremely nervous upon actually seeing just how imposing the old house looked. “Took us long enough to get here.” the boy's girlfriend said, she being the typical tough girl sort with a shaved hairstyle, lots of facial piercings, and a perpetual snarl to her mouth. “This better be worth it!” she added. They were all dressed in leather jackets, jeans, and an assortment of heavy metal band shirts. They knew they looked stereotypical, and liked the look all the same, no matter how ridiculous it made them seem. They crept over to the front porch, and by this hour the whole Serafino family was waiting for someone to approach. All was pitch black inside, that being a nice touch that Vito thought of for this year. The sky looked ominous, clouds were rolling in, and the night was becoming a bit chillier than anyone expected it was going to be. Still not cold, mind, but just rather uncomfortably chilly. Enough so you could see your breath, but not enough to cause frost to form on the pumpkins. And that was the oddest thing that the teenagers noticed... there were no pumpkins to be seen, no Halloween decorations either. It looked like nobody had lived here in decades, which gave the place a highly dark and foreboding atmosphere. That was when they decided to see if they could see inside... they walked up unto the porch to have a look into the windows, there were about eight of these teenagers present in all, pretty much the whole gang of them... and at that precise moment, Anton took on his true form and threw the front door wide open. What the teenagers saw, they at first thought was just an elaborate costume or some sort of well designed life-sized Halloween monster decoration. It still spooked them, but all they could say was pretty much: “Holy shit! That looks fucking awesome.” but it was in that moment that they also came to realize that this was all too real. The thing was pale, paler in color then bleached bone or freshly fallen snow... and it was hideous, terrible to look upon, with fiery, glowing red eyes. A black mist clung to it, shifting and circling about its' body, obscuring its' shape in a way that made it seem like its' form was constantly in a state of changing. There were curved horns, and leathery wings... and razor sharp claws. The creature growled, and laughed in a throaty, chuckling voice that was dripping with hellish mirth. Behind the teenagers, a second demonic form stood... that one was Vanda, of course, who always liked to get in on the fun. The sisters were hiding in the woods nearby... singing a very creepy song about blood and torture but in a way that sounded like a silly nursery rhyme.
Vito and Tony took on the shapes of impossibly large black wolves with glaring red eyes, and leaped out from the woods in order to sow as much terror in hearts of the gang of trouble teenagers as possible. “Happy Halloween, kids! I hope you are having the time of your deaths... I mean, lives.” said Anton in as cruel a tone as his voice could manage when not in a human guise. One of the punks actually had a gun on him and pulled it out, his hands shaking violently. “Fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” he kept on screaming, before firing the gun at the wolves. It had no effect, and the beasts savaged the boy very ferociously. The girls were still singing, but soon their true ghostly forms emerged from the woods... looking totally ethereal now, floating above the ground and carrying cleavers in their hands. They both rushed into the pack of teens and gave them many a bloody injury for their trouble. “Oh my God! She cut my fingers off!” screamed the boy with the spiked hair. And that was before Anton and Vanda had a mind to join in on the bloodshed. Oh, was there ever bloodshed that night too! They had always simply scared the usual visitors away, but this time they decided to have a more hands on approach just to mix things up a bit and alleviate any possible boredom. The teenagers just barely managed to escape with their lives, and ran back home to their respective parents and families, who would never believe a word of the story they told them about being attacked by wolves, ghosts, and demons at the old house on the outskirts of town. A place they had been trespassing at illegally to start with, with malicious intent. It was ironic, how the tables had turned and the would-be predators became the prey. They would all live, since none of their injuries would turn out to be fatal... but never again would they go near that house. Some even decided to turn over a new leaf and thought this was a sign from God to stop being so nasty. So in the end, that Halloween night was a life-changing moment for that foolish gang, which stopped being a gang and just went back to being normal teenagers. Their parents and families were thankful for whatever had caused this change in their children, even if something clearly traumatic had occurred. But they (and the police) just figured for the most part that the gang of punks must have run into a rival gang (of more dangerous street toughs) who had to have been wearing some very frightening costumes or something and who must have been hanging out by the old house since it seemed like a good place for a gang to meet, being as isolated a location as it was. It must have been this nonexistent but totally plausibly existent gang that had messed those teenagers up really bad or something, and so they left it at that. The police kept an extra close eye out for strange gangs from out of town after that, but otherwise nothing came of it at all, and as the years went on the peculiar incident was completely forgotten about.
“So, children... did everybody have fun this Halloween?” Asked Vanda, while the butler brought in a plate stacked high with tasty cookies in the shapes of ghosts, bats, and skulls and sat it on a table in the living room. Normal cookies, nothing strange or gruesome. Christina and Maria dug in and enjoyed the delicious treats. Sure, none of them needed to eat! But they still liked to, when the mood took them. Oft they would enjoy as normal of dinners together as any family typically would... and this night they had a great banquet being prepared, filled with all manner of splendid delicacies. The cook (who came all the way from the old country) was excellent at her task, and had plenty to servants to help out. Sure, the lot of those servants were zombies, but they did their job to perfection! And as a necromancer by trade, the cook commanded much respect from them. “Dinner will be ready shortly.” reported the butler, and after that the children all said almost in unison: “It was the best Halloween ever!” and Vanda smiled. If she had a heart that still beat like a living heart does... it would have been warmed by hearing such joy. Anton was putting together a model spaceship for Tony, whilst Vito turned his attention to attempting to solve a Chinese puzzle box that Anton bought for him from an antique shop in town. “What's inside of it?” he asked, and Anton answered: “Probably, nothing... but maybe demons! You never really know for sure, with those. I remember this one time when I had one, and...” the story was of course a dark and grisly one, and that was how the Serafino family had capped off their greatest ever Samhain celebration.
It was a chilly autumn... not cold mind you, for it had been a very hot summer of the sort that leads into winter gently, which made for a longer autumn season than usual. Halloween was upon the land, and to those of Pagan inclination that meant equated to the more ancient solemnity of Samhain. In the old house that lay atop the high hill, surrounded as it was by a dense forest of pines and surrounding marshlands.... all of which lay within a valley with forbidding dark mountains that were covered with craggy peaks and cliffs too precarious for anyone to scale... a light appeared in the attic. It was a lamp, and the lamp was held by what appeared to be a rather tall and cadaverous looking man in a black suit appropriate for his job as a butler. He rarely spoke, did his tasks without question, and was as loyal a servant as anyone could ask for. He was checking on some of the valuables that were stored there, and ran his rough hand... the one that was free... over the lip of a large and heavy sarcophagus. It was of a type not seen since the days of the ancient civilizations, and may have even predated many of those! But no one could remember exactly enough to say. It had always been in that house, in that attic, even before the present owners moved in and decided to call the place their own. The butler knew what lay within it, and knew enough to treat the sarcophagus with the utmost care. He was sweeping off the dust and proceeded to clean it with a cloth from one of his jacket pockets. “Too dirty, too messy!” he said to himself. He often talked to himself, and many thought him mad because of that. Perhaps he was. Soon, a voice echoed forth from the sarcophagus, saying: “Are you finished yet, sir? It is difficult to sleep if one hears brushing sounds against the surface... and yes, my hearing is just that perfect as I am certain you remember.” to which the butler replied: “I remember, madame, and that is precisely why I think the sarcophagus is in need of a proper cleaning!” His voice was raspy with age, and yet he never seemed to get any older... he merely remained ancient looking. He had looked this way when he first entered into the family's service, and he could probably live another three hundred years and never look a single bit different ere his end came. The voice from within the sarcophagus was a woman's voice... young and a great deal on the vibrant side, with a hint of a mischievous sense of humor to every word spoken. It did oft make it so that the butler never knew if the mistress was joking or not. She was, regardless, never a person to joke around, despite her seeming silliness. She found her mirth in other ways. “Madame, it is Samhain season once again... you really, really should wake up and join in the festivities downstairs.” The butler was insistent in how he worded that, but polite as was his manner. He got no answer and let out a bored sigh. Or was it a frustrated one? It was hard to tell with him. Samhain was sacred to them... to the whole family... and for the mistress of the house to miss it would be more than a bit unthinkable.
The sarcophagus' lid suddenly slid aside, operated as it was by a mechanism from within... and out of the burial object sat up, stretching her arms and yawning as she did so, a very beautiful young woman. She was tall, slim but not skinny, and had dusky colored skin that went well with her jet black hair. She wore her hair long, and it cascaded down to her ankles. Her eyes were a pale blue and her lips full and naturally reddish tinted. When she wore lipstick, it was merely to accentuate this splendid aspect of her features. She was wearing a long evening gown of a Victorian style with long billowing sleeves and a low-cut neck that revealed the ample cleavage of her generous breasts. And despite being slim, she had a perfect hourglass figure, which said much about her fine bone structure. She was smiling after she did finish yawning, and asked what time it was. “It is near midnight yet, Marlowe?” to which the butler so replied: “No, madame, it is but five o'clock in the afternoon... precisely.” and he checked his ornate but cracked pocket watch to make certain. The mistress appeared relieved, and clambered out from the old coffin in order to stretch her legs. The nightgown was a bit thin but not sheer... and were Marlowe not a eunuch he doubtless would have appreciated the look of the woman standing before him. But the butler had now use for women... he lived only to serve, quite literally, and could be sent back unto dust easily.
The mistress thought about that fact as she made ready to descend the attic stairs and see about going to her room to get dressed. “From dust I raised you, Marlowe... though unto it I am loathe to see you so return!” she exclaimed ere they parted company and he set about his various duties. The mistress made all haste to her chambers after that, skipping along childishly as she went... she was mad. Everyone in the whole family knew it, and they all loved and adored her for it! To such as they, madness was a kind of divine gift, and the sort of thing one could be proud of rather than ashamed to admit to. Her room... it was very elaborately and opulently decorated... with surrealist paintings on many of the walls, cases and shelves containing countless curios and objects of arcane variety, and at least one tapestry that showed the family's coat of arms. It was just a pity that this particular tapestry had been defaced by the mistress so completely that nothing whatsoever of the actual coat of arms could be seen on it any longer. Rather, a great number of skulls and demonic looking shapes were there in place of the noble image... some of them painted in human blood. Only human blood would do! Animal blood was inferior, she often said. And if she said a thing, then it had to be true, at least according to her. The rest were painted in blackest and darkest charcoal and paint... or some mixture thereof. Magic marker and crayon too! When she did wish to make a statement, one could be certain it would endure indelibly. She cast open her closet doors with a flourish and sang a song to herself as she tried to decide which dress to put on. “Let me see!” she began. “Black silk bloomers for undergarments... a black silk chemise to cover my bosom... and ah yes indeed, I believe I will pick this gown here. It is absolutely perfect for tonight! Black, muslin material, and elegant.” She only stopped singing long enough to say all of that aloud, as if she were explaining to an audience only she knew was listening to her. It was not a hard choice... all of her clothing was either black or red, or combinations of both colors. She owned one pink gown, but she absolutely hated it! It was just not her color in the least. The gown was beautiful, with soft sleeves just as low and billowing as her nightgown, and a neckline just as plunging despite the gown's otherwise Victorian sensibility. Of course, she had tailored the neckline herself! She was quite good with needle and thread, having used her sewing skills often to stitch the wounded back during the war. Which war? She could not remember any longer, it was just that long ago. Sometimes she used it to stitch peoples' eyes or mouths closed. Ah the good old days! She thought, when the memories crossed into her mind sometimes unbidden. She did hurry and get dressed in a reasonable manner... the nightgown was the only white garment she had ever owned, and she liked it merely because she looked somewhat ethereal whenever actually wearing it. She had large eyes, and they sparkled and glimmered brightly in the moonlight... when it was night, that is. She never missed the evening! That was her time, her moment to feel alive. She did not sleep her days through though, and only rested in her sarcophagus when she needed to replenish her vitality. Unlike some of her kind, she was fairly reasonable about such things. She got back to singing once she was dressed, and brushed her hair carefully to make certain it looked perfect before using a hair cone to put it back and away from her face. The hair cone was gold... real gold, not imitation, and probably it was centuries old. Pretty much brand new compared to how ancient she herself actually was. She only appeared human, after all, but she liked the look and so she kept it. She put on some gold earrings after that, a ruby pendant on a long, thin golden chain necklace, and slipped a pair of black slippers unto her feet. Perfume and a wink to herself in the mirror completed her routine! She had showered the previous night, and still smelled of flowers (she always added flower petals to her baths, and when she showered she used only the types of body washes that had floral scents to them). “I must admit! I look fabulous.” she exclaimed, deciding she had sung enough, and proceeded to glide along out the door... her walk had always been just that graceful... and downstairs to the living room, where her family was awaiting her. The house had many floors, and many levels to it... much of it was maze-like and all of it she knew like the back of her hand, if not better. Unlike the rest of her family... she had always lived here. For this is where her sarcophagus had always been. Everyone else came later. “Oh, how I adore this time of year!”
Those had been her words as she rushed into the spacious, comfortable looking living room with its' big couches, roaring fireplace, and grand decorations. She looked mad, as mad as ever, as the grin on her face expressed more vividly than any words ever could. “Darling, you look as ravishingly insane as ever! No wonder I love you so much.” said the proper looking gentleman who stood by the hearth. He wore a black Victorian gentleman's suit... all black, but with a white undershirt. The only garment that he owned which was white, and only that because it was silk and he had a fondness for the feel of it on his skin. He skin was pale white... much like an albino's might be... yet his shoulder-length hair was jet black in color. Blue-black actually, which merely accentuated his peculiar appearance. Yes, he had a proper sort of look to his face... that is to say, he looked noble and reserved. Of course, he was neither of those things! His hair was slicked back, and his eyebrows neatly plucked to the point of looking a bit on the feminine side. He was hairless... and not because he shaved either. He simply had no body hair to speak of except for his long eyelashes. His eyes were red in color, again a trait of an albino, but yet other than his pallor he was healthy, strong, and had none of the traits of an albino otherwise. He was, incidentally, not an albino, just for the sake of clarification in case the reader was wondering about this! The four children were off busily playing in one of the large room's shadowy corners. How they adored the shadows, just like their parents had when they were little! It did their father's heart good to see this. He smiled, always pleasantly when he was in these sorts of brighter moods, and finished his glass of red wine before throwing the glass into the fireplace, where it shattered and was left to burn. Money was no object to his family, and so what was the matter if one glass was shattered every once in a while! They had plenty more in the cellar and full stocks in the kitchen anyway. “Do you fear me, wife?” he said in a devilish tone after that. The mistress replied: “Never! Do you fear me?” to which his reply was a very honest one: “Oh, very much yes!” to which the mistress smiled happily and said: “Good! Then all is as it should be.” they then embraced and kissed passionately. The master of the house touched her breasts lustily, to which his wife reminded him: “Now now, darling, not in front of the children!” and he let his blood calm down after that, restraining himself from delving further into the depravity that was one of his defining qualities. The very thing that the mistress always found so endearing about her husband in fact. She was more than a bit depraved herself, after all, and delightfully so by her side of the family's standards. One of the children screamed loudly... a cry of pain echoing through the living room. “Ah! Do you not miss being their age, beloved?” the man said to his wife, who herself admitted: “The things we did! The people we tortured... it was so much fun, being young once.” They did not bother to check on the children. These things happened all the time, and they were only being children after all. Hardly anything to worry about! It was not as if they could actually die anyway. Despite their rough variety of play, and the sharp objects they sometimes employed in their games. The clock struck the sixth hour... and out of the large grandfather clock emerged a stylized snake made of wood that hissed loudly as it did every time the sixth hour in the afternoon came around. It then popped back into the clock and that was that. “Whose idea was that snake, anyway?” Asked the man, to which his wife replied: “I think that was our daughter's idea... the youngest, I mean. Such a clever girl!” And that was how they began their evening together for the Samhain holiday. Naturally, they had to take the scalpel away from the oldest boy... once they retrieved it from his younger brother's leg. The wound was bloodless and healed quite instantly. They had to draw the line somewhere, after all... how else, were children supposed to learn! The butler hated cleaning up after the children, but he did it all the same. He had no choice, his soul so being bound to his master and mistress along with the contract he signed after being raised from dust to serve them. It was this, or the grave, for him... and as much as he actually had not minded being dead, he still liked being alive and nearly immortal (though not quite) that much more. At least the children made less of a mess than their parents did when they had to get rid of certain visitors! Blood was quite difficult to get out of certain kinds of carpeting, after all. Especially, in such ridiculously large amounts.
The mistress' name was Vandella, but everyone simply called her Vanda, which she encouraged to the utmost extent. Her husband's name was Anton, and back when they first met people were not using last names in those days. Point of fact, those had not even been their names back then! But that was always beside the point for them. They had agreed to use the last name of Serafino, and so that was their family name and had been at the very least since the early renaissance. Vandella and Anton Serafino! Anton, at least, was Italian so it made sense... or, at the very least, he was of the same blood as the most remote of all ancestors of the Italian peoples. Something he was quite proud of mentioning to anybody who had a care to hear him talk of it. Anton had been thinking about that wistfully, when he and Vanda sat down on a couch to watch the children play. He said to her: “Darling... do you remember, back when I joined the Mafia?” and she corrected him: “It was the Borgia family, dearest, not the Mafia!” to which he then exclaimed: “Yes, that is right! But you have to admit, Vanda my love, the Borgia family was incredibly similar to the Mafia. All those fantastically gruesome murders and elaborate intrigues! And how about that fine fellow Cesare... I always hope that our boys grow up to be as fine a fellow as he was. After all, he did pose for many paintings of Jesus Christ! Quite the honor.” to which Vanda shrieked a bit before saying somewhat angrily: “Anton! I told you, never say that name in our house.” to which she so meant the name of Jesus. Anton knew right away what she was on about and genuinely apologized: “Oh, I did so forget how terribly that name affects you, beloved! Here, let me make it up to you.” and they kissed. She forgave him easily for such slips of the tongue. After all... there was that time he more than made up for having once served the Church by going on to influence the Borgia family in the delightful ways that eventually caused them to corrupt it utterly during the time when Cesare's father was the pope. Of course, the Borgias had not needed much help in the corruption department, but every little bit helped! Naturally, as Anton kissed Vanda he groped her obscenely... he never could help himself when they had sat on this one particular couch together. She smacked his face, smiling wickedly, to which he replied in a lusty tone of voice: “Now, Vanda, my darling! Not in front of the children... you know how much I like it when you slap me like that.” and they were both becoming very sensually aroused by each other.
The children were paying no attention to their parents' subsequent lovemaking... the slap was what at last drove them both to go at it as they were now doing. The oldest out of the two boys, Vito, was busy squeezing his younger brother Anthony's head as hard as he possibly could manage it. So brutally hard, that little Tony's eyes looked to be practically ready to start bulging, even though they naturally did not. “Why don't your eyes ever pop?” Vito asked Tony with a visibly disappointed expression upon his face. To which the younger boy said in a frustrated manner: “Vito! You know I can't die by violence. None of us can... that's the blessing mother put on us when we were born. But all the same... this still hurts, you big jerk! Knock it off!!!” and they started to beat each other up, which they did often. Vito always won, but Tony liked the challenge of taking him on all the same. Vito was fourteen years old, and was the spitting image of his father. Tony was twelve years old, and resembled his mother to such a degree that his features were somewhat androgynous because of the strength of that feminine resemblance. He was Vanda's favorite boy, while of course Anton favored Vito. They loved both boys though, and made a habit of spoiling them rotten. Ridiculously rotten, and it showed. The boys were wearing black velvet knickers and black cotton blouses that were quite a great deal feminine looking, but which looked fine on them. The boys both looked more feminine than masculine anyway, and it was likely neither would ever have to shave when they grew up... just like their father. Vito was only slightly less feminine in his facial features, but like his father he plucked his eyebrows to make up for it. Both boys had coal black hair and red eyes. Tony's androgyny was due to him having been born a hermaphrodite and yet still he expressed an endless desire to live as a boy, despite also being a girl. He was a very patient child too... and he would get terrible revenge on Vito for squeezing his face. His revenge schemes always worked.
So, while Vito always won their battles... Tony always won their wars, since he was a born planner. A thing that his parents never failed to find fascinating about the boy genius. For yes, he was also out of the two boys the more brilliant one, with a love of science and the family penchant for sadism fully and blissfully intact. Their two sisters were off by one of the windows overlooking the cemetery outside, for yes the family had their own private cemetery. Both girls had the blue black hair of their father, rather than the coal black hair of their mother that the boys had been blessed with... and the two girls were in fact identical twins who had skin as pale and albino-like as their father's own. But they had the precise same eye color as their mother, that shade of blue that is so light and vibrant that it is practically aglow in certain lighting. The twin sisters were the same age, both thirteen, and yet the two of them in all truth could not have been more different from each other. Christina and Maria were their names... both wore long white muslin dresses with red bloomers peeking out from beneath their skirts. The dresses sleeves were long and full, and around their waists the twin girls wore red sash belts the same color as was the bloomers they wore... also a match for the red ribbons they wore in their long wavy hair. Upon their ankles they wore black ankle-length socks and their feet sported white dress shoes that would not at all have been inappropriate to see decorating the feet of a porcelain doll. Normally, they wore black but it was Halloween after all and so they decided to wear white and red for the occasion. Their mother was fully approving of this, and their father never complained about anything the girls ever did... no matter how terrible. The girls were whispering and giggling, evidently plotting something as usual. Maria did say unto Christina: “I hate it when Vito bullies Tony like that... I think we should take Vito down into the cellar to torture some sense into him. I think mother would not mind if we used the thumbscrews or the rack just this once.” to which the other sister replied: “Christie, sister dear, sister my own... why the rack and thumbscrews when there is an iron maiden just as serviceable?” and so their conversation thus continued in this manner for some time before all four of the children decided to take their antics down into the cellar after all. Soon enough, Vanda and Anton were alone and quite sated with passion at least for the time being. Anton's neck had two puncture wounds in it from Vanda's fangs, and they bled more than a bit, though he was smiling about it the whole time. “Why Anton, look! You bled for me tonight. You do not always allow yourself to.” the mistress of the house said, to which her husband answered: “I decided to be playful for you, since it is Halloween after all... and Samhain too, as if it ever could hope to be otherwise when the dark season is well and truly upon the land.” And this talk of dark and gloom made Vanda a very happy vampire... for indeed, as one could tell by now, a vampire is precisely what the noble lady actually was. An ancient, and powerful, vampire... though in this modern age, she often just wanted to be known as Vanda. Plain and simple, even though she was neither plain nor simple. Oh she was mad, most certainly! But not simple by any stretch of the imagination. Vito's screams echoed a great deal throughout the house, along with Tony's laughter and the giggling of the two twin sisters. A warm smile came to Vanda's face on hearing all of this. She said contentedly: “Oh my love, listen! I do believe they are really making young Vito suffer quite tremendously this time. They are truly children after our own hearts!” to which Anton remarked slyly: “Oh come now, my dear flower of darkness; we both know that you have no heart to speak of!” and she giggled childishly, admitting: “You know me a lot better than I know myself sometimes, I think.” and they went off to clean themselves up and see to the preparations for the night's celebrations. The requisite altar would have to be set up in the cemetery outside... the victims the family captured earlier in the week would need to be harvested of their fear so that the holiday could be honored properly. Naturally, once that was done, the victims would need to be killed and buried in the cemetery in one of the mausoleums set up for that purpose. And, any children who arrive for trick or treating would need to be frightened away... something of a tradition that was a bonding experience for the whole family. The twin girls especially enjoyed taking part in that activity! They had a good knack for inspiring fear in general, and were always unique in how they went about it.
The butler helped Anton set up the altar... it was a bit chilly out at the hour they picked, chillier than previously in the day, but they managed everything nicely enough despite that. Anton bundled up in all the proper ways, but the butler... he being what and how he was... did not feel the cold in any case so he did not need to bundle up at all. They used a stone slab that was already there, and upon it they drew an inverted pentagram in goat's blood... mostly fresh from this morning's satanic sacrifices, making sure to draw the goat's head in the middle of it and all the demonic names and symbols that were required to be at each point of the pentagram. Call Anton whatever you will, but he was thorough... and very specific when it came to honoring the family traditions. He even used some of his own blood in the fixing up of the altar, and soon it definitely looked quite evil. He smiled, nodding his head and dusting off his hands at a job well done. He asked the butler if there was any goat's blood left and the butler handed him a big glass filled with the stuff, which the master of the house then sniffed before gulping down. Once he had slaked his thirst, he remarked: “What an excellent vintage! We shall have to bottle more for later I think once we've some time to spare for the task.” They exhumed the skeletons of two of last year's victims... and placed both on either side of the altar, dressing them in black hooded robes and putting candles in their bony hands, which they then lit. One candle... the one that went on the left-handed side... was all black in color. The right-side one was blood red. “Do you think that will do, master?” asked the butler, to which Anton thought for a moment before agreeing: “Yes, yes I think that will do very well indeed.” And so that part of the night's preparations was seen to. At the same time, Vanda and the children were busy in the cellar, dealing with the victims that were mentioned earlier... a man and a woman, both of them a normal, average suburban couple. They were a long way away from the suburbs now! And far enough on the outskirts of town that no one would hear them scream. Oh, did they scream too! But as was stated, they did so with no hope of being heard by anyone who might care to rescue them from the horrors that were about to unfold. The woman wore a pink knee-length dress and had perfectly trimmed shoulder-length blonde hair. The man wore a preppy looking outfit that would have been probably a lot better suited for someone younger than he was. He had sandy colored hair and looked like one of those sorts who although nearly middle age was still trying very futilely to live out his youth. Or recapture it somehow... either way, he was a most foolish fellow and his wife cheated on him frequently, and only remained with the man because he spoiled and pampered her like the princess she was not and never would be. They had a white poodle named fluffy... because why would they not! And, fluffy... was just fed to a pool of piranhas right in front of their very eyes. Naturally, the couple was shackled to a wall in full view of the pool, their eyes held open with metal clamps so that they could not look away from the gory scene of their dog's demise. The woman was crying hysterically, near to madness already. And the man was screaming and had thrown up all over his preppy clothes... he had a weak stomach for blood and gore and never liked horror movies for that reason. Ironic, since he was living a horror story now! Vito and Tony had beaten him in the stomach following that, just to make sure he had puked up more than enough. Vanda and the twin sisters went to work on the woman... cutting here, sewing there, and before their work was done the woman's face looked a great deal different from before. Her mouth was sewn shut so that she could not scream so much as whimper, and her tongue had been cut out in order to make any screaming pointless a pointless endeavor in the first place. Christina got creative and cut what looked like gills into the sides of the woman's neck, which bled a great deal. And Maria removed the woman's nose, and fed it to the piranhas immediately afterwards. The couple was terrified beyond belief, and their shared terror was fueling the magic of the night. The twins were laughing, giggling, all around having the time of their lives as they further mutilated the woman while their mother watched them as they worked, approvingly. The boys had beaten the preppy man within an inch of his life, his face by now was a bloody, mashed in pulp that was so horrible looking it was a shock to notice he was actually still alive after so much torturous abuse. “Father would love this!” Vito so remarked in passing.
After Tony castrated the man and fed his genitalia to... you guessed it... the piranhas, it was time to do the right thing and put the couple out of their misery. The floor beneath the two victims was covered in the man and woman's blood, urine, and feces before the end. Along with pieces of skin and entrails that were left over after both victims were thoroughly disemboweled. The twin girls used scalpels to cut the two hapless individuals' throats and after that all four children set about cutting the bodies apart with a pair of bone saws that were kept in the cellar just for occasions such as this. The body parts were fed to the piranhas, and anything left over would be fed to the man-eating pigs that the family kept out in the pig pen on the far side of the back yard. “Well, that takes care of that!” Vanda remarked, and she and the four children went to clean the blood off of themselves. Mostly off of their hands, faces and hair... since they had been smart enough to wear over their clothes special overdresses that kept their regular clothing from getting any blood on it. They always burned those later, and got new ones for next time. The butler would clean off the utensils and take care of any evidence of the murders. Then, the bones would be taken to the proper mausoleum... and nobody would ever learn what happened to that couple. Vanda had read a lot of mystery novels over the years, watched a lot of crime dramas on television. She had a natural mind for crime, and had never in all her ages long existence been caught committing one yet. That was something Anton had always admired about his wife! She was creative, inventive, and a very smart lady. Had this family bent their minds to doing less evil activities... there is no telling what they might have accomplished. But perish such a thought! Good deeds were unbecoming of them, and this family took a great delight in all that was mad, cruel, sinister and evil. They really did not know of anything else, nor did they wish to. Halloween was their greatest joy, the season that most summed up to them what it meant to truly be alive. Or rather, to truly be deathless as was the case with them! For it was not quite accurate to call such creatures as they were alive in the strictest and most correct sense of that word's meaning. It was several hours later, almost the time for the trick or treating to begin... when Tony surprised his father out in the cemetery. Anton was busy reading from an original copy of a very ancient book of necromancy that he had acquired once in Damascus from a certain insane Arab wizard or sorcerer, or something back when the book was first penned. It was nice of the sorcerer to make him a copy, especially since human flesh and the blood used to pen the tome were not always easy to come by. But regardless... the deed was done, and here we are. Tony was wearing a devil mask and jumped unto his father's back after climbing a tree that loomed over the place where the dark altar was set up. Anton was a good sport about it, saying: “Ah, Tony my boy! You nearly had me there for a minute... I thought the summoning spell had called something up already. But it never works that fast, so I should have known better!” and he let Tony read some verses out of the unholy book as a reward for being so festive for the holiday. “You make a good devil, son... one day, you will be more evil than I am I think! But only if you beat Vito to it first, since I must admit he sometimes has a good head start on you in the evil department.” and they had a good time attempting to summon eldritch horrors from other planes of existence together. The children who came by to trick or treat always came late... they saved this house for last, and honestly you can clearly see why. The cruelest trick ever was when Vito stole a razor from a house in town, stuffed it into an apple, and then... while wearing a costume and mask so that nobody would recognize him... he went to a Halloween party hosted at the local grade school and left the apple in with a bunch of others that the teachers had prepared to hand out to the students who attended. By the time someone bit into that apple, he was long gone and laughing like the young madman he literally was. The man whose razor it had been was arrested for the crime not long after, and no one ever learned the real truth of the matter. Vito honestly did not feel like getting up to that kind of mischief this year though... preferring to spend this Halloween with his family instead. He was twisted and perverse, as a true Serafino should be... but he genuinely loved his parents and siblings all the same. It might in truth have been heartwarming, were his loyalty to his fellow fiends not chilling given their penchant for evil.
This year saw the arrival of some troublesome teenagers rather than the typical trick or treating kids... and these teens had chosen the worst possible house to attempt to prank, as was their want. They had, in their foolishness, believed that it would be an easy thing to just go over to that large old mansion and smash some pumpkins, toss some toilet paper around, and throw eggs at the walls. All they knew about the family that lived there was that they were eccentric... and that the children were home schooled, the parents seemed to be retired or at least wealthy enough to never have to work, and that visitors came to that house but rarely. And when the Serafino family, on occasion, had a mind to go to town... they were always quite aloof, somewhat antisocial, and they always, always kept always to themselves. Always! It never varied, with them. They were private, brooding people in the eyes of the public, and no one really could say that they knew a single factual thing about them. They also seemed to not quite be living in a way that was exactly current with the times, which made many assume they were backward. Or at the very least intentionally anachronistic... which was sort of true in a way. But they were far from being a backward family! Since backward could also imply a simple-mindedness that was as far from the truth as one could get. The Serafino family knew how to scheme... they had been doing it for centuries now! If not longer. It was in their very blood, and they were quite proud of it. The boys and girls who showed up to play their delinquent pranks were dressed like the usual street toughs they imagined themselves to be, and what they never told each other or themselves was that this was to compensate for them being quite cowardly and foolish. It was around eight at night, the punks had decided to walk it rather than drive... and none of them brought so much as a cell phone with them. “Nobody is going to be there! I'll bet that whole weird family is probably in bed by now.” one of the teenagers, a tall boy with a bit of a spiky short hairstyle said, on noticing his friends appearing extremely nervous upon actually seeing just how imposing the old house looked. “Took us long enough to get here.” the boy's girlfriend said, she being the typical tough girl sort with a shaved hairstyle, lots of facial piercings, and a perpetual snarl to her mouth. “This better be worth it!” she added. They were all dressed in leather jackets, jeans, and an assortment of heavy metal band shirts. They knew they looked stereotypical, and liked the look all the same, no matter how ridiculous it made them seem. They crept over to the front porch, and by this hour the whole Serafino family was waiting for someone to approach. All was pitch black inside, that being a nice touch that Vito thought of for this year. The sky looked ominous, clouds were rolling in, and the night was becoming a bit chillier than anyone expected it was going to be. Still not cold, mind, but just rather uncomfortably chilly. Enough so you could see your breath, but not enough to cause frost to form on the pumpkins. And that was the oddest thing that the teenagers noticed... there were no pumpkins to be seen, no Halloween decorations either. It looked like nobody had lived here in decades, which gave the place a highly dark and foreboding atmosphere. That was when they decided to see if they could see inside... they walked up unto the porch to have a look into the windows, there were about eight of these teenagers present in all, pretty much the whole gang of them... and at that precise moment, Anton took on his true form and threw the front door wide open. What the teenagers saw, they at first thought was just an elaborate costume or some sort of well designed life-sized Halloween monster decoration. It still spooked them, but all they could say was pretty much: “Holy shit! That looks fucking awesome.” but it was in that moment that they also came to realize that this was all too real. The thing was pale, paler in color then bleached bone or freshly fallen snow... and it was hideous, terrible to look upon, with fiery, glowing red eyes. A black mist clung to it, shifting and circling about its' body, obscuring its' shape in a way that made it seem like its' form was constantly in a state of changing. There were curved horns, and leathery wings... and razor sharp claws. The creature growled, and laughed in a throaty, chuckling voice that was dripping with hellish mirth. Behind the teenagers, a second demonic form stood... that one was Vanda, of course, who always liked to get in on the fun. The sisters were hiding in the woods nearby... singing a very creepy song about blood and torture but in a way that sounded like a silly nursery rhyme.
Vito and Tony took on the shapes of impossibly large black wolves with glaring red eyes, and leaped out from the woods in order to sow as much terror in hearts of the gang of trouble teenagers as possible. “Happy Halloween, kids! I hope you are having the time of your deaths... I mean, lives.” said Anton in as cruel a tone as his voice could manage when not in a human guise. One of the punks actually had a gun on him and pulled it out, his hands shaking violently. “Fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” he kept on screaming, before firing the gun at the wolves. It had no effect, and the beasts savaged the boy very ferociously. The girls were still singing, but soon their true ghostly forms emerged from the woods... looking totally ethereal now, floating above the ground and carrying cleavers in their hands. They both rushed into the pack of teens and gave them many a bloody injury for their trouble. “Oh my God! She cut my fingers off!” screamed the boy with the spiked hair. And that was before Anton and Vanda had a mind to join in on the bloodshed. Oh, was there ever bloodshed that night too! They had always simply scared the usual visitors away, but this time they decided to have a more hands on approach just to mix things up a bit and alleviate any possible boredom. The teenagers just barely managed to escape with their lives, and ran back home to their respective parents and families, who would never believe a word of the story they told them about being attacked by wolves, ghosts, and demons at the old house on the outskirts of town. A place they had been trespassing at illegally to start with, with malicious intent. It was ironic, how the tables had turned and the would-be predators became the prey. They would all live, since none of their injuries would turn out to be fatal... but never again would they go near that house. Some even decided to turn over a new leaf and thought this was a sign from God to stop being so nasty. So in the end, that Halloween night was a life-changing moment for that foolish gang, which stopped being a gang and just went back to being normal teenagers. Their parents and families were thankful for whatever had caused this change in their children, even if something clearly traumatic had occurred. But they (and the police) just figured for the most part that the gang of punks must have run into a rival gang (of more dangerous street toughs) who had to have been wearing some very frightening costumes or something and who must have been hanging out by the old house since it seemed like a good place for a gang to meet, being as isolated a location as it was. It must have been this nonexistent but totally plausibly existent gang that had messed those teenagers up really bad or something, and so they left it at that. The police kept an extra close eye out for strange gangs from out of town after that, but otherwise nothing came of it at all, and as the years went on the peculiar incident was completely forgotten about.
“So, children... did everybody have fun this Halloween?” Asked Vanda, while the butler brought in a plate stacked high with tasty cookies in the shapes of ghosts, bats, and skulls and sat it on a table in the living room. Normal cookies, nothing strange or gruesome. Christina and Maria dug in and enjoyed the delicious treats. Sure, none of them needed to eat! But they still liked to, when the mood took them. Oft they would enjoy as normal of dinners together as any family typically would... and this night they had a great banquet being prepared, filled with all manner of splendid delicacies. The cook (who came all the way from the old country) was excellent at her task, and had plenty to servants to help out. Sure, the lot of those servants were zombies, but they did their job to perfection! And as a necromancer by trade, the cook commanded much respect from them. “Dinner will be ready shortly.” reported the butler, and after that the children all said almost in unison: “It was the best Halloween ever!” and Vanda smiled. If she had a heart that still beat like a living heart does... it would have been warmed by hearing such joy. Anton was putting together a model spaceship for Tony, whilst Vito turned his attention to attempting to solve a Chinese puzzle box that Anton bought for him from an antique shop in town. “What's inside of it?” he asked, and Anton answered: “Probably, nothing... but maybe demons! You never really know for sure, with those. I remember this one time when I had one, and...” the story was of course a dark and grisly one, and that was how the Serafino family had capped off their greatest ever Samhain celebration.
Published 14th Sep 2022
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Okay, this is just insanely, totally, bats**t crazy awesome! I mean, this is like the Addams Family only for a more adult audience. And with all of the family members being literal monsters with supernatural powers and stuff too! Reminds me of a much darker and grittier take on the kind of story that Ray Bradbury was going for with his Elliot Family stories... and when I say darker and grittier, I mean your story here is in places the stuff of nightmares and I mean that in a good way. The casual torture scene gave me goosebumps! And I've seen some twisted stuff in my time too, but I think here it is especially unnerving because you have a family doing this together like how some families have company over. It is just for them the most normal thing in the whole world, as depraved as that might seem for people not in their family. I do like the style of humor that you imbue into the dialogues all throughout... this family truly is insane, but to them sane would be boring. And Halloween for them would not be complete without a bit of blood being spilt and dark powers being unleashed! Brillant, dark idea and a type of story you really don't see a lot of authors tackling, especially in such an unflinching and visceral way like you do here. As a fan of horror movies, especially weird and surreal ones, I totally dig this whole work! It's just plain amazing, and something I will definitely read again before the Halloween season is over for this year. I would ask what you could do with a Christmas-themed horror story idea... but after reading this, I may wish to steel myself before reading it if you do create one. Especially if it involves the Serafino family again! And there is literally no way to say that without it sounding like we are talking about a Mafia family... I like that you played a bit with that in the story too. That had a clever bit of wit to it, doing that! And then like taking it in a different direction than expected right afterward. That is what I like in a good horror story too... when it defies your expectations and goes off the rails into crazy territory! Which your story does in all the right ways. Love you babe... good to be getting around to reading all your latest stuff finally! Kisses for you, and sweeter things too. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
9th Oct 2022 7:14am
That is actually exactly the kind of story I was going for with this one, a sort of much darker and more twisted take on the same genre as tales like the Elliot Family and movies and shows like the Addams Family. A family that is regarded as very peculiar by most people and who are as eccentric as they are reclusive. But in my story, they are also monsters with a penchant for blood, casual torture, and murder and mutilation when the mood takes them. As well as dark magic and all manner of crazy antics! Halloween is totally their time, and they are in their glory during the Samhain season. But whereas most people watch horror movies and dress up like monsters for Halloween... the Serafino family shows their truest natures and indulges in their wildest and wickedest impulses. Their life is pretty much a horror movie, and those who stumble into their world oft do so at their peril. Yeah, the torture scene was something I knew had to be extreme and graphic because I wanted the reader to really feel how depraved this family was and be brought face to face with the gruesomeness of some of their activities. It was meant to be a bit on the sickening side, but also darkly humorous due to the fact that the two victims of the torture turn out to be genuinely unlikable people who are the worst sort of preppie couple imaginable. Then, you want to absolutely despise them and the story plays with that idea by sort of punishing those two people brutally right before the reader's eyes for being such awful individuals. So, their deaths are a sort of a horrid form of karma coming around to bite them big time. As for the punks, they totally get what they deserve by thinking they can just go around and tearing things up wherever they please. So, the reader is never invited or intended to sympathize with them. They were looking for trouble and came to the wrong house after all! That was the idea behind that scene near the end there. And through it all, this family is just having the time of their lives and doing what comes naturally to them. And that is where the true horror of the story comes into play! The fact that such things to them are so casual and commonplace. Christmastime for this odd little family would be quite memorable, to say the least! But they are not Christians of course so their take on Christmas would be very, very different from what would be expected. They would still be into presents and Santa though... and Krampus as well! In fact, I do think the Serafino children would simply adore a visit from Krampus. To them it would be like a distant relative coming over to say hello, so things would go quite unexpectedly there. I could imagine one of the kids even saying something like: "So father, are we really going to have Satan drop down our chimney this year?" to which he would tell them: "No, no children! Not Satan... Santa... but we can always summon Satan if you'd prefer." And that would be totally in keeping with the way they are. Yeah, the Mafia references were something I thought worked great with the Serafino family here... I mean, they do kind of operate quite a lot like a crime family. Committing grisly murders and disposing of the bodies and the evidence in ways that make their crimes totally unsolvable. It just makes sense to play with that idea bit for a moment before dispelling the notion entirely and subverting expectations. I am glad you've been having a good time reading my latest works, my beautiful Sybil! Your kisses are to me more precious than any treasure, and all the sweet things that you have to bestow upon me are to me sweeter than any candy. Countless kisses for you, too! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
9th Oct 2022 9:44pm
I absolutely want to read that Christmas story now... you made that sound really, really awesome! I think if Krampus tried to give Vito some coal in his stocking, Vito would one-up it by tossing a grenade at the creature... away from the house of course! Or maybe using a sniper rifle on the beastie just for fun. And I could totally, so totally see them trying to summon Satan through the fireplace, just to be as opposite of the normal Christmas traditions as you can get. They are definitely one crazy, impulsive lot! Which is what makes them so much fun to read about. Hey, babe! Your kisses... and you... are the greatest treasure to me in the whole big wide multiverse we live in. I'd be simply insane without you! And given I am probably a bit mad anyway, it is good I've got you to keep me from totally losing it. I give you kisses beyond counting too! And a whole, whole lot more.
9th Oct 2022 10:23pm
Not sure when I'll get around to actually penning it, but the idea of doing that Christmas story is definitely sounding better and better to me the more we talk about it. If I do end up writing it, I will be sure to include all of our ideas for it and a whole lot more besides. A proper horror sequel always has to have more of everything so... you can bet if I write it, that it will be a blast to read for sure! I love you do much, my baby girl... you are the prettiest princess in the whole world to me!!! :D
23rd Dec 2022 10:32pm
I love this story very much! I like the ways the characters in it are insane, depraved, unusual, and not quite human no matter how they look. This remind me of a horror take on the Addams Family but with still a very dark maybe grimdark humor to it. But it works! Somehow you make this story work, and it has a vibe that is very much to my liking. I will certainly read this one again. You have brilliant ideas when it comes to horror! It is thinking outside the box that you are always best at.
30th Dec 2022 8:49pm
When it comes to this family... the insanity and the depravity are features rather than "glitches" so to speak. It's all just part of how they roll, and that is where the dark humor very much comes into play. Yeah, I think the choice of the term grimdark for the humor is spot on, that was the sort of humor I was going for with this. Along with a great many rather inspired "What the actual f**k?" moments that in addition to adding an element of shock and surprise to the proceedings also really do give the reader the perfect insight into just how far removed this family is from what most people might consider to be "normal" thinking. Whenever I do write fiction, most especially horror, I always try to be as creative as possible and come up with some inventive ways to surprise the reader. Writing in the horror genre can be tricky because there's so much that has over the years been done but when you add a touch of humor to the mix and throw in some clever parodies and flip expectations totally on their head, it can create something quite new and rather unusual from even a concept that on the surface can seem familiar. In this story's case, that worked out better than I had at first expected it to. I am delighted to see you loved the story! It is wonderful to hear from you again, Camilla, after so long my dear. *Smiles* :D
