The following is a parody of a genre of fanfiction using the characters from Michael Jackson’s Ghosts. Viewer discretion is advised.

“is it scary for u?”

by tiaragurrl2000

Chapter 1: hi

haiiiiii.

My name is Savannah Chastity Cook. I’m 15 years old and I live in the town of Normal Valley. Yeah the name is stupid, but the people here are pretty much just that--normal! It gets really boring here, and a lot of the other kids at school think I’m a freak, so I don’t have any friends.

I wake up at 8:30 am. “Oh crap!” I yell, realizing that I’m late for school. I rush to get dressed and walk into the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror: long blonde hair in waves that I dye green, hazel eyes with gold flecks, and a skinny body. Seeing my face makes me hate myself, I’m so ugly. To cover up my flaws, I wear tons of white foundation, purple eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and red lipstick. In the end, I look like the Joker, but that clearly doesn’t have anything to do with my peers thinking I’m weird.

I walk into the living room with my backpack, tottering on my high heels. My dad takes one look at my all black outfit, puts down his newspaper and coffee, and says, “Go change into something more suitable, young lady.”

Did I mention my dad is the mayor of the town? My mom died of cancer when I was little, and I’m an only child. Anyways, my dad is old, fat, and obsessed with keeping everything in the town completely normal, just like the name would imply. I love him, because he is my father after all, but I hate him because he’s so authoritative and he doesn’t understand me.

I give him the finger and then run out of the house. I have to walk to school, which is two miles away. By the time I get there, it’s already lunch, but that’s probably because I stopped along the way to help a bug get out of the road. I sit down with my tray and immediately this group of popular girls flounce over to me.

“Hey, loser.” The leader, a blonde with freakishly large breast implants, says mockingly. “Are you coming to the halloween party?”

The rest of them cackle like hyenas. “Nobody invited me.” I say mournfully.

“Well, it’s at my house. You should dress up for it in a scary costume, or the bouncer won’t let you in.” More laughter. I punch her in the nose and run to class. Someone taped a sign reading “FREAK” to my desk. I run to the bathroom crying and slit my wrists. By then, the day had ended, so I started home. In the distance, I could see the spooky mansion, Someplace Else.

My dad appears out of nowhere. “Never go into that house, Savannah! A freak lives there and scare people for fun.”

“Kind of like me.” I murmur, a single tear escaping my eye.

“Oh, Savannah.” My dad gives me a Kleenex. “If you bothered to change, I’m sure people would like you more. If you acted more normal--”

“I don’t want to be normal!” I scream, running into my room and slamming the door.

I decide to go to the party, since I don’t have anything better to do. Making up a costume from random crap lying around the house, I sneak out my bedroom window (my dad was asleep watching TV) and run towards the popular girl’s house.

There’s loud music playing that I can hear from a block away. There are a bunch of jocks passed out drunk in the front yard, and one of them looks like he might be dead, or at least unconscious. I blow past them, my cheap cape flowing around me.

When I ring the doorbell, a girl smoking a cigarette answers. “What are you supposed to be, the polyester vampire?”

“Let me pass, mortal.” I reply, sweeping past her.

Inside, people are raving. It’s smoky from all the smokers, and somebody spiked the punch. They’d probably be doing drugs too, but there are no drugs to be found in Normal Valley.

I just stand there in the living room for a while. There’s a couple dressed like Batman and a slutty nurse making out on the couch. There are crushed chips all over the carpet. I’m bored, and so alone…

When I go to the bathroom to cut myself again, somebody rips my cape off. I scream bloody murder, swing around, and beat them with a nearby lamp. The person, some guy in a zombie costume, screams and crawls away. I have the tendency to go psycho sometimes, but at least now I don’t want to cut myself.

Some guy cuts a glow stick in half and starts painting the green liquid inside on his skin and clothes. He’s dressed like an alien, and probably drunk. I’ve calmed down, but now I’m restless. I walk outside and breathe in the cool night air. I take off my masquerade mask and sigh. Looking down over the edge of their deck, I wonder; should I jump, and end my miserable life?

Once I’ve had enough of that crap, I go back inside and loot the pantry. When I find a bag of Cheetos, I come back out and the blonde girl who (sort of) invited me is standing there.

“Loser, your costume sucks. What are you even supposed to be?” She asks, leaning her hand on the doorframe and her other hand on her hip.

I shrug and start to walk past her, but she grabs my arm. “We’re gonna play a game. You wanna be in it?”

I lick the cheese dust off my fingers and shrug again. She starts pulling me down the hall. I think her name is Samantha or something. Her dad is always away on these business trips, and her mom is standing on the dining room table doing a strip tease for some older boys.

Samantha or whoever takes me past them and into the garage. There are people there with flashlights. “We’re going to go up the hill to the spooky mansion and ding-dong-ditch it. If nobody comes out, we’re going in to trash the place.”

Somebody walks by and grabs my bag of Cheetos. I resist the urge to rip out their jugular. “Okay.”

“You’re going to go up and ring the doorbell.”

“What if there isn’t a doorbell? Not all old houses have doorbells.” I point out.

“Then knock instead. Come on!”

With that, we start walking. Soon, we get to the gate of the house.

“I don’t want to go in anymore.” I say, looking scared. “It looks dangerous.”

Samantha blows me off, pushing me through the tiny gap in the rusted gate. Shivering, I start walking. Halfway there, I stop and turn around. “This is stupid! I want to go home!”

“Do it, you big baby!” Somebody shouts in response. I have no choice but to continue.

Sure enough, there’s no doorbell to ring, but there is a metal knocker. I pick it up and let it fall, which makes one helluva noise. Then, all of a sudden, lightning strikes, and I turn around, realizing that the kids are running back.

“What the heck?!” I shout, holding my hands up. I feel a cold hand touch my shoulder, whirl around, and scream. But the hand is already yanking me inside of the house, and nobody seems to hear.

A gust of wind blew through the house as the screaming Savannah was pulled in against her will and--wait. What the devil? The first person narrative has been changed to third! Oh, whatever. As I was saying...

The person who had grabbed her pulled his skeleton mask away. He had not expected her to keep on screaming for help even after he revealed himself, but she did just that.

"Oh my God! Somebody help!"

He tried calming her, but his words of reassurance were drowned out by her wailing like a siren. Becoming fed up, he covered her mouth, forcing her to listen.

"It was just a joke! Calm down!"

The girl stared at him through eyes encrusted with makeup, then fell limp. He had to struggle to catch her--she was heavier than she looked.

Great, she had fainted. Well, so much for only scaring her.

No sooner had she gone spindly in his arms, the girl was awake again. “What the heck? Where am I? Who are you?”

This change of tune encouraged him. “You’re in Someplace Else, and I’m the Maestro.”

She looked up and around. “Oh. Okay.”

Her sudden calm unnerved him. He was constantly expecting her to start screaming again. “Er…”

“Put me down.” She commanded. He obeyed without protest, setting her on her feet.

“May I ask who you are and why you knocked?”

The girl gave him a dull-eyed and slightly creepy look. “I’m Savannah Chastity Cook.”

The mayor’s daughter? Uh oh. “And why are you here?”

“I got dared by some people at a party.”

“Is that what the costume is for?”

Her face was utterly serious. “I’m a polyester vampire.”

O-kay. She was a strange girl, but he was weird himself. He could handle it… right? “Why didn’t you refuse? Going to the houses of strangers can be dangerous.”

“I dunno.” She studied him through her paper masquerade mask, and he began to feel funny. His knees seemed weak, and goosebumps traveled up and down his arms. This was getting disturbing.

“Well, you can go home now. I just wanted to scare you. A Halloween prank, you know?” He forced a smile to hide his discomfort; her gaze intensified, and the smile faded. “Um… what are you doing?”

“Can you walk me home?”

He blinked. The stare was gone, and her eyes went dull and stupid again. He shook his head. “I can’t, sorry. I have things to do--”

“Then I won’t leave.” She said matter-of-factly. “I hate my house. My dad’s a jerk.”

He couldn’t help agreeing with her on that. “You can’t stay here. Your father will call the police.”

“I don’t care.” She started to wander down one of the hallways. “I’ll stay here tonight.”

A sinking feeling developed in the pit of his stomach. “Listen, you really should go home--”

But she had resorted to ignoring him. He sighed. “I guess you can stay… but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

He started off in the other direction. “You’ll know when you see it.”

I walked past the Maestro guy and--oh, for Christ’s sake! You changed the POV again! Bloody hell--

The house was full of antiques and old crap. There were painting on the walls that were probably hundreds of years old and everything was covered in dusty old sheets. But the place was huge, and I wanted to explore it, because I’m a rebel who ignores warnings from adults. Maybe I’d get killed or something. That would be fine with me, since I hate myself.

I passed by this room that had an old organ in it covered in cobwebs and dust. My asshole teen nature told me to start pounding on the keys, so I did. It was much louder than I thought it would be, and I got a feeling that I was summoning a demon from hell, so I stopped. Not because I’m religious or anything--because I didn’t want to bother Satan and his minions right then, and I’d already sold my soul to the devil last week to get him to do my math homework for me.

But when I turn around, the Maestro guy is standing behind me.

“What are you, some kind of stalker?” I ask annoyedly.

He grinned at me. “Only in my spare time.” He said.

“Your voice is different.” I say--Great, now you’ve changed the past tense to present tense as well. I applaud you. Tool.

“Is it?” He had his hands on his hips.

“You sound British. Are you high? Can I have some?”

He looks at me funny, then shrugs. “Children your age should not be bothering with such vices.”

“I agree completely.” I say. He looks faintly irritated. “You’re not the same guy, are you?”

He looks surprised. “How did you guess?”

“I’m special.” I explain. “My mom died when I was little. She was probably a witch from another dimension, and I have secret magic powers I haven’t discovered yet. Anyway, who are you really?”

“I am Maestro’s darkness. They call me…” He raises an eyebrow suggestively. “...Doctor Maestro.”

“Cool beans.” I nod. “Do you know where I can sleep?”

“That depends on who you want to sleep with.” He grins. It makes him look unhinged. Sexy. “Every room in this house is occupied by a ghost or a ghoul. So, who would you like to be your bedmate?”

“Can’t I just make Maestro give up his room?”

“Maestro is not exempt from the rule. He shares a room with a ghost girl.”

For some reason, I am instantly jealous. “Oh, yeah? Are they, like, together or something?”

“Sort of.”

“Is she prettier than me?”

“She’s quite plain, actually. Has a huge overbite and a weak chin. I don’t know what he sees in her.” He shudders. “I’m sure she’d be no match for you. Especially since she is, you know, dead.”

I put my fingers together in an evil pyramid as I calculate, a dastardly plan to steal a man forming in my head. Hey, that rhymed. “Excellent. I can begin preparations at once…”

Maestro tried not to think about the strange girl in his house, and walked upstairs to his room. He was quite exhausted by the whole ordeal, and really just wanted to get some sleep.

He climbed into bed and shut his eyes, only to open them a few seconds later. The sheets were wet.

Sitting up immediately, he pulled back the blankets. They were soaked through with red. Blood? Where had it come from?

On the other side of the bed, he spotted a raised bump. Cautiously, he reached out and flung back the covers, flinching as he did.

But it wasn’t a dead body. It was something much worse.

“Why are you here?”

Savannah’s dull eyes gleamed in the dark. Her hands were coated in the blood and her makeup was smudged. “I wanted to see you.”

He shook his head. “Where did all this blood come from?”

“I dunno. It was like this when I got here.”

He sighed. “Get out of my bed, please.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I asked nicely.”

“So?”

“What do you want?”

“I like you.”

“I’m flattered. Now, would you please leave, so I can get some sleep?”

“Why do you sleep with a ghost?”

Maestro blinked. “Who told you that?”

“Doctor Maestro.”

A look of such annoyance passed over his face, Savannah raised her eyebrows. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

“No one likes looking into a mirror and seeing… that.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. “Did he put you up to this, too?”

“No. I don’t like your girlfriend. I think you need a new one. Like me.” She grinned stupidly.

He shuddered. “She’s not my girlfriend. And you’re only, what, fourteen?”

“Age is nothing but a number. How old are you?”

“That’s a double negative.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m a whole lot older than you, and have no wish to be branded a pervert. Now, would you please--”

Before he could finish, she had bolted up and out of the bed. She stopped at the door. “Oh, yeah--I used my new magic powers to banish your girlfriend to development hell.”

“What?!”

“Bye!”

She slammed the door.

In the high rafters of the mansion, a swirling maelstrom of dust and wind took shape. The maelstrom swirled violently, leaving a humanoid shape in it’s wake.

At once, whispers traveled up from the darkened depths. Something had been set in motion; someone was awake.

The humanoid shape drifted, put out one bare foot, and fell from the rafters, sailing down on a draft of air. She rode the windy passages, and as she floated down shadows crept and crawled from beneath doors.

The first whisper grew louder, and said, “This has gone too far!”

Another replied, “Maestro’s darkness is to blame!”

“We have lost one of our own!”

“A plot!”

“A conspiracy!”

She alighted on the floor with a soundless grace. The shadows were becoming tangible, first as jellyfish-like ectoplasm, before they molded themselves into more human forms.

“This is nothing so complex as to be called a conspiracy.” Said the humanoid shape. “We have simply encountered an… anomaly.”

“A witch!”

“A demon!”

“A teenage girl!”

All eyes turned towards the last voice. A ghoul dressed as a jester covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.”

Another ghoul sneered grotesquely, the flesh hanging off his ancient face. “The witch child must be destroyed to restore the ghost!”

“She’s not a witch, you know.”

The ghoul turned. Doctor Maestro stood in the doorway. “Does it matter?” It growled.

“Yes, actually. You did say you wanted to destroy her…” The doctor yawned, examining his nails.

“Anything can be killed by burning.” Purred a lady with a parasol, her skin blue with death.

The jester giggled maniacally. “Death! Death! Ashes to ashes, dust to dust--”

Doctor Maestro glanced up. “You’re not the one who decides on these things. The decision is with Maestro.” He smirked. “But, seeing as how he isn’t here, the choice falls to you, Katherine.”

The ghouls turned to face the humanoid shape that had fallen from the ceiling. A fragile, tubercular form in a long white nightgown with eyes like a cloudy blue sky. A ghost.

She glared back at the doctor. “You’re taller.”

“Am I?” He walked towards her. “Now that you mention it, I feel stronger than I ever have before. Can you imagine why?”

He got too close for comfort, and she shoved him. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but this isn’t some kind of joke. She sent Wendy somewhere--”

“To development hell, yes. Ever heard of it?”

She frowned. “No.”

“A shame. If you did know, you’d understand what the ‘witch’ really is.” He turned his back on them.

“Wait!” She reached for him, then lowered her hand. “What do you know about her?”

“Savannah? She is the mayor’s daughter. Fifteen years old. A sociopath who has just developed magical powers as a result of her arriving here.” He swiveled around, suddenly serious. “Look--she’s difficult to explain. But the important thing is, she has those powers as long as she remains in this house,” he pointed down, “and she won’t want to leave. You can’t kill her if she’s here, and the longer she stays, the more likely that her father will figure out where she is and come after the Maestro. Again.”

The ghouls murmured amongst themselves. Katherine’s eyes widened. “How do we get rid of her, then?”

“Easy enough. Get her to leave the house, and daddy dearest will take care of the rest.”

“But if the mayor comes after the Maestro--”

“That’s the other problem.” He put his hands in his pockets. “See what I’m doing? All problems, no easy solutions.”

“What about Wendy?” She tried again.

His eyes narrowed. “Another problem. She’s probably the hardest one yet. You may have to just forget about her.”

The jester began to sing nervously. “Rose, rose, rose red; will I ever see thee again?...”

Katherine shook her head. “Out of the question.”

“Suit yourself, then.” The doctor smirked, walking towards the door. “I win either way. Whether Savannah stays or not, I get stronger.”

“What if we save everyone?” Katherine countered.

“That, my dear, is simply not possible.” He pulled the double doors shut.

The Mayor, his pants legs catching on every burr and weed as he walked, began the long trek through the town to rally the citizens and eventually drag them to the spooky mansion where the Maestro lived.

He peered through a random window, his dark eyes shifting. It was a 50’s style diner, and a waitress carrying a plate saw him and shrieked. This, being precisely the sort of entrance he wanted, allowed him to open the door and waddle up to the counter.

Having heard the waitress scream, the manager glanced towards the thundering Mayor and immediately ducked into a cubby space, knocking down several pots, pans, and dishes as he went.

“Mister Beze!” The Mayor roared. “I’d like to have a word with you!”

The manager, quaking in his boots, stammered a reply. “I-I-I’m afraid I can’t, sir.”

He looked over the edge, seeing the manager’s hiding spot. “Why not?”

“You came in here mad. Tha-tha-that ain’t a good sign.” He shook his head vigorously, rocking back in forth in a fetal position.

The waitress who had screamed began fumbling around in the kitchen, swearing loudly. She eventually came out and glared at the Mayor, her hands on her hips. “This better be important. You didn’t have to scare me half to death like that.”

A few customers were peeking around their booths, listening in. The Mayor nodded at them all. “Good. I’ve got a proper audience.” He dragged a chair up and sat down. “Folks, my daughter’s gone missing.”

There were several gasps and hushed whispers. He held up his meaty hands for silence. “I know what you’re probably thinking. I haven’t called the police, because I already know where she is.”

“Then why are you tellin’ us?” The waitress demanded.

“Because the Maestro took her.”

Silence. The few who could remember their last hike up to Someplace Else exchanged glances. They all knew what this meant.

Still hiding, Mr. Beze said, “I-I aint goin’ back up there!”

“Coward.” The Mayor muttered.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a coward…”

He whirled around. “Mrs. Dade--Pat, please. It’s for my daughter.”

The blonde woman who had spoken only shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. Remember what happened last time?”

Severla patrons nodded in agreement. One boy (who had mysteriously not grown older in the sixteen years since he had met Maestro) piped up. “But he’s nice! He wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

“Listen, son.” The Mayor pointed at him with a sausage finger. “My daughter is trapped up there with that monster. I told you all the truth about him last time, but you didn’t believe me. Now he’s taken my little girl, and none of you care!”

A hush fell upon the crowd. People began to shift nervously in their seats, and a few got up and left. A hip youth said, “Man, why you gotta lay this stuff on us? D’ya really think firin’ up the same grill as last time is gonna solve this detective junk, brotha?”

“Hip youth,” the Mayor began in a humble voice, “you have no say in these matters.”

The hip youth got up from his seat, muttering, “This some bullshit…” and walked out, taking everyone who still remained’s resolve with him. Which was about twenty people, including the waitress and Mr. Beze.

“Will you good people come with me and take care of this problem, once and for all?” The Mayor asked, puffing up his chest valiantly.

Mr. Beze slowly stood up--then slogged over. “I guess so, sir…”

With that, the Mayor gestured out the door, yelling, “ONWARD!”

I walked downstairs and waited around the corner for Maestro to come down. It takes two hours, but he eventually does.

One the last step I jump out and launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around him like a constrictor snake. “I love you!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Please don’t make me go home!”

The sun is rising, and I have clairvoyance enough to know that my dad is coming with a mob. Maestro looks bewildered. “Um… what?”

“My dad, the Mayor, is coming to take me away. I can fight him off with my powers!” I keep screaming even though I’m sure he can hear me. “I don’t wanna go back! Let me stay here with you! Pleeeaaaaseeee!”

He pries my arms off. “Calm down. Why don’t you want to go home?”

“My dad’s a fatty and he wants me to be normal! Plus, he makes me go to the Super Fun Rock Band Church!”

“The what?”

“Hell in a handbasket!”

“Will you stop yelling?!” He shouts.

“I sorry,” I murmur. “But I still don’t want to go. Nobody understands me but you.”

“I barely know you. All you did was waltz into my house, and now you’re refusing to leave.” He runs a hand through his long black curls, hanging at shoulder length like so many coils and spirals of midnight--ahem. Moving on. “I wish you had never come here. You’ve only caused trouble, and now you’re acting like a spoiled, selfish br--”

“White people and black people don’t have actually black hair. Only Asians do.” I interrupt him. He looks at me so severely I burst into tears. “I can’t help being weird! I have OCD, ADD, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and depression!”

“Self-diagnosed?”

“Of course!”

He sighs, shutting his eyes. His eyelashes look sooooo pretty. I wish mine were like that. “Look. I don’t love you. I don’t even really like you. Your father is coming here because he obviously cares about you. If you don’t leave with him, and he tries to run me out of town again, I will personally kill you. Understand?”

I shake my head. “You won’t kill me. You couldn’t even kill a bug onstage.”

“Onstage?”

“Never mind. I can use my powers to defeat the Mayor, like I said. He won’t run you out of town.”

He rubs his forehead, cringing as he realizes he’s running out of options. “Look, if I let you stay here, will you bring the ghost back from… wherever you sent her?”

“Development hell?” I think for a moment. “I don’t wanna.”

“Then out you go.” He says, pointing towards the door.

“Okay, okay!” I hold up my hands. “You said she wasn’t your girlfriend?”

“She’s dead. Ghosts don’t work that way.”

I pout, but he only gestures at the door again. “Fine!” I stamp my foot and disappear in a puff of smoke.

***

“Rasputin, you got any eights?”

“Go fish, duchess.”

In the middle of a desert landscape, five people sat playing cards. One was a teenaged girl in a pearly white dress, another a bearded man with creepy eyes. The third was a strange human-like creature with white eyes, the fourth a woman wearing a fedora, and the fifth was a bored young woman with blue eyes and rope marks on her neck.

The bearded creep asked the fedora-sporting woman, “Michelle, do you have any queens?”

“Nope. Go fish.”

A blinding flash of light interrupted their game, and Savannah appeared. For some reason, her hair had turned purple.

The girl called duchess asked, “What happened to your hair?”

“In this dimension, it’s purple.” Savannah replied. She pointed to the bored woman. “I have to take you back now.”

“Really?” She replied, then made a comical face. “About time.”

She flung down her cards and stood up. Michelle stuck out her tongue, while Rasputin began cursing at her in Russian. Blowing them off, the ghost and Savannah disappeared.

***

Poof! We got back. Maestro blinked. “That was fast.”

“We were playing Go Fish.” The ghost, Wendy, mutters. “Hey, did you get my present?”

“What prese--” Maestro began. His eyes widen, then darken. “The blood was your fault, wasn’t it?”

Wendy, stuffing toilet paper into her cheeks, replies, “I made ‘em an offer ‘e coudn’t refuse.” She turns to me. “What’d you do wif the ‘orse ‘ead?”

“I ate it.” I answer with a completely straight face. “Like a good doggie.”

“Enough with the movie references.” Maestro says, waving his hands around. Wendy promptly spits out the toilet paper. “We have the mayor to worry about. What ‘powers’ are you going to use to get rid of him?”

“Avada cadavra?”

Maestro looks like he was on the verge of exploding. “I said no more references!” He points at me. “I will not let you kill your own father. That’s out of the question.”

“You know about Harry Potter?”

“I don’t care about Harry Potter. This is real life.”

“Actually, it’s not.” Wendy points out. “In real life, you’re dead and she’s a Mary Sue.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t kill him.”

“I thought you hated him, too!” I protest.

“Not enough to commit murder!” He shakes his head. “Oh, for crying out loud--why can’t you just go home? I don’t want you here!”

He holds out his hands, which are shaking uncontrollably from nerves. “Why do you have to stay here? Why can’t you go somewhere else?”

“Because my powers only work here. And I don’t want to give them up.”

As the Mayor and his gang of reluctant townsfolk marched up to the mansion, there occurred several incidents, ranging between bizarre, to humorous, to downright scary (and sometimes all three).

The first of these was quite mild. In the center of the path was a bizarre streak of light that stretched from one dead/dying bush to another. It was blue, and looked suspiciously like a bad Hollywood special effect.

Upon seeing it, the crowd slowed to a stop. The Mayor stared at the light for a few seconds, then said, “What the hell is this?”

To his surprise, the light responded: “My name is Shaniqua.”

“Hi Shaniqua!” Shouted the town idiot from the back.

The Mayor shrugged. “Will you let us pass? We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

“Can I have some cornbread first?” Asked the cheap SFX.

Luckily, one of the local housewives happened to carry a bit of cornbread on her person at all times, and the crowd was able to continue.

The second incident occurred ten minutes later, when the town drunk became separated from the group and wandered off on his own. He eventually came to a stream and sat down on a rock to have a beer, only to hear a raspy voice say, “Hey, Bob! There’s a guy over there!” followed by a coughing fit.

The drunk turned around and saw a tree that appeared to have grown around a skeletal man, or possibly out of his head until it covered his whole body and rooted him to the ground. The creature’s eyes were popping out and as yellowed as liver damage, and he did not look like he was in a very comfortable position.

“Aw, don’t look so surprised, kid.” The tree-man went on, seeing the drunk’s stunned expression. “You live in a town with a literal name that perfectly describes the residents and a cardboard cutout Evil Establishment, where a magical man livin’ in an old mansion has the power to summon ghouls, but chooses to spend his time and resources doing elaborately choreographed dances to entertain snot-nosed punks. I’m not so bad, once you get to know me and Bob.” He coughed again. “The name’s Harold. Could you do me a favor?”

The drunk, lapsing into a state of shock, shrugged placidly. Harold went on. “I’ve been feelin’ a little spread out lately. I think Bob here--the tree--has been movin’ around my organs over the years. I think my heart’s somewhere in my roots. If you could go down and stop my heart, that’d be great.”

“You want me to murder you?” Asked the drunk, still impassive.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…” Harold coughed, gasping for breath. “You’d just be doin’ me a favor. I don’t like being stuck here, and the only way for me to get out of this mess is to kill me. Now, are you gonna do it or what?”

The drunk looked down at his beer. “Sweet Lord, I’ll never drink again.” He said, before promptly running away, never to be seen again.

“So much for that, eh Bob?” Harold chuckled. Bob, or Herbert, made no comment, as he was only a tree.

Lastly, the final incident involved the three never-aging adorable moppets, Trevor, Timmy, and Token Black Kid. As to why there only seems to be boys in this town but no girls, is a mystery.

Anyway, the three lads encountered what appeared to be a claymation, fashioned into a suit of armor holding an emotive, shapeshifting white mask thing.

“What are you?” Asked young Timmy, earning him a smack across the head from his older brother.

The mask replied, in a voice like schizophrenia, “An angel.”

“What’s your name?”

In response, the mask morphed half of his face into a grotesque shape. “Satan.”

“Uh oh.” Said the Token.

“What’s the matter?” Asked Satan.

“Nothing.” Trevor cut in nervously. “Its just a sorry name for an angel.”

Satan proceeded to take them on a magical adventure, giving them their favorite fruits and allowing them to populate a small-scale kingdom of clay people. However, the whole thing turned sour when Satan got pissed at the clay folk, who had began fighting over a cow, and destroyed the city, uttering an allegorical message about how humanity is only a single thought in God’s mind or something like that. The kids ran away screaming before he could finish, and were thus traumatized into growing up again. In other words, there will be no more sequels.

At last, the crowd (mostly) made it to Someplace Else in one piece.

“Why can’t we just leave him alone?” Asked the Token Black Kid, as the tired group was forced to rehash the first movie’s dialogue.

Timmy piped up. “Yeah, he hasn’t hurt anybody!”

“It’s your fault, jerk. You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut!” Trevor said, smacking Timmy again.

Their mother smacked him. “He did the right thing.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts, honey.” Said Token Black Kid’s mom.

“I’m gonna prove it to ya, kid.” The Mayor said. “C’mon--let’s go.”

“Hi Dad.”

The Mayor looks at me in shock. “Savannah! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

I doubt it, but I force a smile. “Um, yeah. I just decided to stay here for a while…”

He tries to give me a hug. “I was so worried! What happened? Did he do anything to you?”

“No! Of course not!” I yell, making him jump. “I came up here on my own. Well, actually, this girl dared me to come here, and the Maestro pulled me in, but I fell in love with him and decided to stay.”

My dad stares at me in shock. I stamp the toe of my shoe, rubbing it in the dusty wood floor, trying to look as innocent and angelic as possible. He just keeps staring at me.

“Why… How could you possibly…”

Even the people in the mob behind him look confused, or they’re shaking their heads in disbelief. A few of the kids are giggling. “Stop it!” I scream, and they go all serious.

“Savannah, sweetheart, are you sure you’re okay?” My dad asks, looking more and more worried. “You’re only fifteen, and the Maestro is…”

“I probably have Stockholm syndrome.” I admit. “But I still love him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s cute.”

Someone snorts in the back--but a few of the housewives in front are nodding their heads in agreement. That is beyond creepy, but whatever.

“Honey, you can’t say you’re in love with someone just because of how they look.”

“I don’t care. He understands me. Unlike you.” I feel my anger starting to bubble over. “You never even tried to understand me. You just wanted to be normal and boring, like everybody else!”

“Savannah Chastity Cook,” he says my full name, straightening, “you hurt people. You’re violent and loud and obnoxious. That’s why you don’t have any friends. That’s why people don’t understand you. They can’t understand a sociopath!” He looks genuinely tired, hurt, and upset. “Why do you think I devoted so much time to trying to make things normal? Because of you, Savannah. Because you need help. You can’t live your life like this. It’s not right.”

I’m so mad, I feel like my head is going to explode. Instead, I burst into tears and run further into the house. The mob starts following me, encouraged by the Mayor. I run and run, until I throw open the nearest door and discover the room happens to be occupied by Maestro, who I slam into, knocking him down.

The crowd reaches us, and a few of the kids start cheering. Maestro looks at me murderously, only to see the Mayor’s angry face and scramble to his feet. Since I’m clinging to his shoulders, he drags me up with him.

“So,” the Mayor growls, “we meet again, Maestro.”

Maestro makes a face that looks like a cross between a nervous grin and a grimace of disgust. I’m too busy trying to find his heartbeat to calm me down to care. “So we do.”

“Well, freaky-boy, do you have anything to say about all this?” He gestures at the house.

“Uh…” Maestro looks up, then down, then left to right. I can tell by his eyes that he’s realizing he can’t risk telling the truth, for his dead girlfriend’s sake, and has to play along. “...No, I’m afraid not.” As an afterthought, he awkwardly returns my embrace. I squeal a little.

The Mayor shakes his head. “I was hoping this would all turn out to be some sort of misunderstanding. A shame.” He looks back at the townspeople. “Looks like we’re gonna have to hurt you.”

“Now, let’s not be too hasty.” Maestro says quickly, holding up one hand. He takes a precautionary step back anyway. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement here. After all, your daughter really just doesn’t like you, specifically. That’s why she refuses to go home.”

“Why would she refuse to come home, anyway?” The Mayor pauses, his expression incredulous. “I have all her crap there. This place doesn’t even have running water. I had them cut it off three weeks ago!”

“Wait--that was your fault?” Maestro asks. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m an asshole.” The Mayor chuckles. “Anyway, I’m still working on getting this place torn down. Probably with you inside it. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Savannah?”

“The board wouldn’t let you tear Someplace Else down!” I screech.

“Would they? After all, I’m the Mayor.” He flashes a toothy smile.

I stamp my foot. “No! You can’t do that!”

My eyes start glowing. Wind swirls around the room from nowhere. Maestro lets go of me and ducks behind an old sofa as I raise my arms, preparing to summon the dark forces.

“Leave… me… ALONE!” I scream, as the windows smash and people start getting blown away like that one scene in Mary Poppins. The Mayor fights hardest of all, grabbing onto the edge of the doorway. For some reason, the song “Leave Me Alone” from Bad starts playing, even though it technically shouldn’t exist in this universe.

“Savannah! Stop!” My dad shouts over the wind. “STTOOOOOOOOOPPPPP!”

He tries to reenact the scene from the first movie, and winds up throwing his arms back--losing his grip and going tumbling through the glass of a window I left untouched just so I could smash him through it.

Then, everything stops: the wind, the glowing eyes, everything.

Maestro slowly raises his head. “Whoa. You didn’t kill him, right?”

“No. But he’s probably a paraplegic.” I don’t feel so good. “Maestro, quick… catch me!”

I fall in a faint. He doesn’t so much as move to break my fall, and I groan, landing on my back wrong. “Ow.” I say, then looks up at him pitifully. “Maestro, I’m… dyyiiingggg.”

I stretch the word out, warbling. He stares at me. “You’re kidding.”

“No, for real.” I lay the back of my hand over my forehead dramatically. “The strain… was too much…” All the color starts draining out my face, making me all pretty and ghost-white. I reach for him. “Kiss me one last time, my love…”

“We never kissed before.” He says, leaning against the old couch. His mouth keeps trying to twist into a smile of pure delight as I lay dying on the floor, though he tries to hide it. “No thanks, kid. You’re too young for me.”

With a sigh, I breathe my last breath, eyes fluttering closed as I float off into oblivion.

***

A few minutes later, Wendy opened the door. It was loose on the hinges after the windstorm, and she had to hoist it back into place. Then, she turned around and saw the lifeless body of Savannah sprawled across the floor.

“Damn.” She said. “That was one wacky adventure.”

She met Maestro’s eyes. The two stared at each other for a while, each fighting the urge to break into hysterical laughter, until Wendy reached out, scream-singing, “Ding dong, the witch is dead!”

And the two of them locked arms and danced around singing together beside the corpse, until Katherine walked in. “Don’t you two think this is all a little… insensitive?”

“To who?” Maestro asked, laughing. “All she caused was trouble. Now, she won’t ever bother us again!”

They went on cavorting until, breathless, they each sank down on a chair.

“Y’know, I do feel kind of bad about the Mayor. Paraplegia doesn’t sound fun, not to mention losing your daughter on top of that.” Maestro murmured.

“She wasn’t his real daughter.” Wendy pointed out. “Her mother was a witch from another dimension who sent her to Earth for no specific reason. Was somebody chasing them? Who? Why? How did they get here? Why does it take them 15-20 years just to find them, when it’s pretty obvious, since Earth is the only other place in the universe that they know of with the means to sustain life? Even if there were more planets, wouldn’t they have started with the one they knew the least about, since that would be the most likely place to hide fugitives? And if her friend or stepmother or whoever was really one of the bad guys spying on them, why did they wait for so long to capture them? Why do they want to capture/kill a helpless baby anyway? Does it have some sort of power that only shows up when they reach maturity? If so, why? How do they know they even have the power? Can they sense it, like the Force or something? How would killing them/their mother work in their favor? How do they know killing the mother won’t cause the kid to become evil and turn on them? What if killing them is the only way to keep a bunch of innocent people from dying? Why would you send them to Earth to lead humanity, but if you didn’t send them in the first place, they wouldn’t need to be protected or whatever in the first place? Why do these stories have to be so convoluted, contrived, and complicated?”

Maestro and Katherine stared at her, completely lost. She shook her head. “I should just make my own damned fanfic…”

THE END.