More fun
Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)

Chapter 19 by ByThePowerOfSCIENCE ByThePowerOfSCIENCE

"Tasty."

A Spooky Side Story

Hello there, everyone! Science here (the writer, not the subject). It’s Halloween! The time of spooks and spirits, ghosts and ghouls, monsters and… a spooky word that starts with “M”. This little side story is both a celebration of one of my favorite holidays of all time and a small apology for taking a several month Hiatus. Now, this is canon for this branch, but it is not necessary to follow the main plot (for those of you easily spooked). It's just a fun little side story starring some various characters you have yet to meet.

With that out of the way, let the spooky adventure begin!

“Darren, stop. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Aww, don’t worry, baby. I’ll protect you.”

The young couple walked slowly through the graveyard, cold mist swirling around their feet as they made their through the land of the dead. Having long since left the Halloween party these two college freshmen had been invited to, Darren had decided the best way to cuddle up with his date was to take her somewhere spooky. Problem was this town had only two haunted houses, and both were about as scary as a wet sponge. Thankfully, his buddies knew how to scare a date proper, and were awaiting them in the graveyard. They would jump out, she would get scared, she would latch onto him, and he would take that as an invitation when they got home. Plain and simple.

Shelia, meanwhile, was so over Darren. Sure, he was built like a brick house, but he had the same brains as said house. Hell, it was obvious in his costume, or lack thereof. While she was dressed as a sexy witch, with a black velvet bodysuit that showed off her cleavage and spider web pantyhose that made her legs look absolutely divine, her date had decided to dress up as a country boy. This meant he was dressed in the blue jeans he wore every day to class, a t-shirt that he also wore every day to class saying how great beer was, and a Mountain Dew hat that his roommate probably lent him. She knew she should have gone for that cute dork back at the party. Sure he was a bit scrawny, but at least he tried on Halloween.

“Oooh, looking pretty scary babe. If you get spooked, you can always cuddle up to me.”

Sheila rolled her eyes, but had to admit this graveyard was indeed rather spooky. She swore it had dropped ten degrees the second they had walked in, and the fog in here was so thick. You could barely see 10 feet in front of you, let alone where they had come from or where they were goin-

“What was that?” Sheila yelped, turning around to face the odd sound she had just heard.

“What was what?”

“I… I thought I heard something. Sounded like footsteps.”

“Eh, probably just the groundskeeper or someone,” Darren assured her with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He had to admit to himself, this was a little early for his buddies to be scaring her, but he wasn’t worried.

Sheila was about to rip into him, telling him she was tired of him treating her like some scared little girl when suddenly she heard footsteps again.

“Fuck, there they are again! They are getting closer.”

“I told you, it’s no-... Who is that?”

Darren pointed to the figure that appeared behind them, slowly walking towards them. The figure had their head bowed, arms crossed holding their biceps. Their footsteps sounded light and were rather quiet, and the hood hid their face extremely well. The fog hid any other features, and the figure was keeping a slow pace yet still gained on them, one footstep at a time.

Now, Darren was not easily frightened. He knew his buddies were planning on scaring her and would be pulling out the best tricks.

He also knew that this strange figure was in no way the shape of one of his friends.

“H-hey! Off with the hood, man! This ain’t funny!”

“Y-yeah! Just leave us aloooooAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

Sheila recoiled in terror as she looked down to the ground. What was once a clear path they had walked across now was covered in bones of small animals, as well as some bones that were very clearly human. In addition, the bones were covered in webbing, and both large and small spiders scurried from eye holes in skulls to the gaps of human rib cages. Sheila and Darren started to take steps backwards, but found themselves pressed up against a tree that was not originally there. Above them sat several owls, their eyes seeming to glow in the dark as they stared unblinking at the two young adults. Fluttering around the tree were dozens of bats, some as small as a phone and others as large as a dog. And still the figure drew closer, spiders scurrying up the freakishly thin legs of this unknown person.

The mystery figure reached up with his hands, slowly removing his hood. The moment it left the top of his head, an ornate headdress was revealed with feathers of birds not found anywhere near the midwestern town this graveyard was in. Darren and Sheila did not notice that, as they were far too distracted by the figure’s face. Beneath the hood was a skeleton, spattered with blood and covered in spiders. His eye sockets looked to them, showing that within each sat four separate eyeballs. His jaw lowered, and out of it came a horrifying giggle that slowly grew into a mad cackle. The cloak dropped from his body, revealing that, while the rest of his body did have skin, it clung to his bones showing that he was dangerously thin. His body was covered in strange tattoos, depicting various people in states of **** or dying. Slowly he gestured towards them with his bony hand, and screamed.

In an instant the owls, bats, and spiders dashed towards the couple, and the bones that now surrounded them reached up and grabbed them as to remove any options for escape. Sheila shut her eyes, awaiting the end to come.

But nothing happened.

She dared not open her eyes, as she feared that her body simply was not registering the feeling of spiders covering her body and bats and owls descending upon her to rip and tear away at her. She feared she would open her eyes and see all these things, only to feel the pain of them when she acknowledged them.

She could hear Derren screaming. She could hear his cries for mercy and the laughter of the skeleton man. She could hear them increasing in volume like a chorus of pain and suffering that would never end.

But she felt nothing.

Then, she heard nothing.

No chittering of bats. No hooting of owls. No scurrying of spiders over bones. No laughter of a skeleton man. No Darren.

The only sound she could hear was the wind blowing through the trees.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. In front of her feet sat a Mountain Dew hat. Upon it sat a small note, written in very fine handwriting. She picked up the note, her hand trembling in fear.

“The boy had only your worst intentions at heart. He and his friends are gone. Take this as a blessing.

-Your friendly neighborhood **** god.”

She looked up from the note, only to see sitting upon a grave on the other side of the road was the mysterious figure. He gave her a toothy grin, gesturing to the graves he lounged upon. Each one had the same date of ****, along with the name of one of Darren’s more… rapey friends. The one the **** god sat on had Darren’s name, and below that, a carved face of horror. Sheila looked up at the figure, only to find him gone. She blinked, and in that moment, the graves, too, disappeared.

Sheila left the graveyard, never telling anyone what she saw that day. After a month or two, it would all disappear to be a bad dream, as no one could remember Darren and his friends. The only evidence left behind sat with Sheila, in the form of a Mountain Dew hat and a note.


“You know, I really doubt the swarms of spiders, bats, and owls were necessary, old friend.”

Mictlāntēcutli brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder, slowly taking back his seat at the table. The god who spoke up, his oldest and dearest friend, sat at his left and passed him a few cards.

“Sure, but it is Halloween. It is the best day to kill someone and scare them at the same time,” he said in his deep, hollow voice, slowly picking up his cards.

‘Damn!’ he thought to himself ‘What a hand to come back in on!

He looked around at the fellow gods of **** who came to join this evening. It had long been a tradition that every year for one night the gods of **** came together under the banner of peace and played a few games together. Last year Hel had invited everyone to Norway for a lovely game of Catan that had ended with a few sore losers, a game of Reverse Pandemic where they stopped trying to help humanity and tried to kill them off quicker, and a game of Uno that finally concluded after two hours when Hades managed to drop his final card. Speaking of, the Greek god of **** sat across from Mictlāntēcutli, pouring himself another drink from the booze Baron Samedi had brought.

Mictlāntēcutli looked over to said dear friend, who was petting his pet snake whilst nodding in agreement. The two were about as chummy as neighboring gods of **** could get and would often invite the other over to party it up in their respective underworlds.

“Alright, I’ll bet… two.”

Mictlāntēcutli looked to Osiris, who started the bidding. One of his arms was missing, and sat with his neighbor Hel. Clearly, this game was not going well for him. Beside Hel sat Hades, and beside him was Anubis, who kept trying to hold in his laughter at how bad Osiris was doing.

“You know, most people would have cut their losses by now, Osiris.”

“Well, I’m not like most people. Are you gonna check or fold, Hel?”

“I’ll…. Raise you ten.”

“Check,” said the Roman god of wealth. Or was he the greek god of ****? Mictlāntēcutli could never keep these things straight.

“I’m out,” Anubis said, tossing his eight and two onto the table.

“We will match that,” said The Morrigan, a raven going from her shoulder to the table, picking up her chips and tossing them onto the pile.

“Check,” said Mictlāntēcutli’s neighbor, Izanami. “I watched what you did to those boys, Mict. You do… sensual work,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at Mictlāntēcutli.

“Aww, come off it Izanami. Check. It’s just part of the job.”

“But the incorporation of spiders and bats… oooooh, makes my heart almost start to pump again.”

“That might just be the hoodoo hootch I brought, Iz.” Samedi popped up, matching the starting bid. “Osiris? You in or out?”

“... Damn it, Hel.” He tossed his cards into the center and rested on the one arm he had left.

“Awww, if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of Hell.”

The other **** gods booed at her terrible pun while just giggle away.

“Alright, but onto some more serious matters-”

“Aw c’mon, Hades. Can’t we avoid any work today?” Anubis said, nibbling on a bone. “I mean, for pete’s sake, we get one day off a year to do this. I was looking forward to not having to think about my job for once.”

“No, the Greek and Roman god is right,” The Morrigan spoke up, her other two parts splitting from her to go grab some snacks and something to drink. “There is a new playing piece on the field, and it is time we address his presence.”

The table went silent for a moment, before Mictlāntēcutli spoke up, “Who are we talking about?”

The gods of **** gave him a look that made him shrink in his seat. If his cheeks had blood in them, he would have blushed and looked away.

“We talkin’ about John Newman, old friend.” Mictlāntēcutli gave a sigh of relief as Samedi helped him out.

“Right… Newman. The Rune boy. Well, what about him?”

“What about- Mictlāntēcutli, do you have no idea how powerful this is?!”

“W-well sure, his use of runes is great and all, but I don’t see how it pertains-”

“Mictlāntēcutli,” Osiris spoke up. “If John Newman really can use runes-”

“Dude, he’s using one of your wife’s things. I don’t see why you are questioning his power.”

“Can it, you jackal. Anyway, if he can use runes, then if he uses ours he would bring more power to us.”

“... So?”

“So? So we will have more territory! Plus a champion that powerful in our domain when he dies?! How do you not see the appeal?!”

In truth, Mictlāntēcutli didn’t. He wasn’t nearly as power hungry as some of the other **** gods, wanting to increase their territories and their lands of the dead. Truly, he was happy where he was. Enjoying days with his best friend, scaring people, dealing with his land of the dead, and every so often having a fling or two with a goddess or god. Honestly, he was happy where he was.

That made him an outlier, as even his best friend was eager to expand his power. But as long as people didn’t take away what little he had, he was happy with it.

“Guys, guys. I think this Newman fellow is a discussion for another day. With that being said…” Mictlāntēcutli laid down his hand. “Full house. Kings over tens.”

The other **** gods groaned, and Mictlāntēcutli let out a mad cackle. Ahh, what a night. Murdering a few rapey teens, saving a girl, hanging out with his fellow **** gods, and winning at poker.

He loved Halloween.

Happy Halloween!!!

Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)