Grave Mistake
One of the things I absolutely love about Halloween season is that you never quite know who you're meeting on the dance floor.
The outfits, the masks, the veils, the elaborate disguises. I adore all of it. It’s wonderfully liberating to grind against someone without having the slightest idea who they are. It could be someone you know, someone you've never met and will never see again, or someone you've already slept with. Once. Or several times, or so many times that you've both stopped counting.
I love that.
Now, admittedly, I can achieve a similar state of uncertainty with the help of recreational substances. So when you combine those with Halloween, I generally end up having absolutely no idea where I am, how I got there, who I'm going home with, or whose home I'm going to. It's basically my Christmas season. Except instead of presents under a tree, I get to unwrap people. And sometimes they unwrap me. Occasionally, several at once.
Ho ho ho.
Of course, there is a downside to all this festive enthusiasm. The following morning, or whatever part of the day I eventually regain consciousness, I occasionally find myself in rather unexpected locations. I've woken up in dumpsters, cheap hotels, luxury yachts, and on the back seats of cars in abandoned parking lots. Once, I found myself in a place so completely unfamiliar that I called my management to ask which country I was in.
But today was a first. A cemetery. Yes. An actual cemetery.
I woke up sprawled across a tombstone, apparently having spent the night in the company of the late Mr. Krantz. Judging by the inscription, he left behind quite an extensive family. How lovely. I hope they don't mind visitors.
Now, waking up in a cemetery is disorienting enough on its own. But imagine my surprise when I lifted myself off poor Mr. Krantz and discovered that an absolutely enormous rave was happening all around me. Music. Lights. Dancing. And creatures… weird creatures. Things with horns, things with claws, things with glowing eyes, things that seemed to be missing various essential body parts, and a few things I couldn't even begin to describe without checking medical literature. Which I don’t have.
And they were all dancing.
Now, I vaguely remembered hearing that NXS VOID had something planned for Halloween, but surely they wouldn't be quite so morbid as to take over an actual cemetery? Would they?
The alternative, of course, was that I was still dreaming, which really was way more disturbing. Because if these creatures were entirely products of my own imagination, then I definitely have to reconsider my recreational narcotics. And I really don't want to do that.
So I decided the best thing to do was to blend in and look natural. Act like I belonged. Pretend that waking up on a tombstone in the middle of a supernatural rave was a perfectly ordinary occurrence. And let’s be honest here, it’s not that far removed from some of my usual weekends. So I joined the dancing, tried not to attract too much attention and made a solid effort to avoid prolonged eye contact. You never know what might happen when you stare into the eyes of something that has been dead for three hundred years. Especially if it stares back.
I was also careful not to give anyone the impression that I was available for dinner. As the main course, I mean. Or as something to rip the head off. Or possess. And I mean possess in the strictly supernatural, completely asexual sense. Although, looking around, I wasn't sure everyone else was making that distinction as well.
Still, the music was good, there was enthousiasm, and after a while I began to feel somewhat comfortable even. Perhaps a little too comfortable. Because at some point, I caught myself wondering whether that rather attractive creature with the horns was single.
And that's when I realized I was probably going to be just fine.
Assuming, of course, I was still alive.
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This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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