It was Halloween night, and the Van Der Smith-Jones house was jumping with spooky music and strobe lights. Cobwebs and creepy spiders adorned the front door, and glow in the dark skeletons stood guard in the front yard. The party had been going strong since 8 pm. It wasn’t a big party since Covid-19 ran rampant in the streets, so it was Damien, Greg, Deviel, and their friend Divinity hanging out.

Greg insisted on playing The Night Before Christmas on repeat just for visual stimuli while the Monster Mash played. He was on candy duty. Dressed as Sally from Nightmare, he happily gave the kiddies candy that had been thoroughly sanitized.

Damien was dressed as Jack Skellington, sipping glasses of Ghouly Punch, aka spiked cherry Kool-Aid, as he danced along to the music. Divinity was dressed as Trixie Mattel, chatting up Deviel about his costume, not knowing the devil wasn’t wearing one.

It had been a pleasant night until 11:30. No one had noticed the slightly off energy that was creeping out underneath the basement door. It created a thick fog above the floor. Everyone assumed someone had switched on the smoke machine and thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until Greg couldn’t open the door to greet the candy-crazed kiddies that anyone suspected something was wrong.

“Umm, babe? What’s up with the door?” Greg asked, his voice tinged with panic. “If I can’t open the door, the children will egg the house!”

“No one will egg the house. Just give it an extra hard pull,” Damien suggested.

“Hey! Keep the bedroom talk in the bedroom,” Divinity joked. He took two gulps of the punch and went back for more. “Quit fooling around and stop trying to scare us.”

Greg did as he was suggested and tugged on the door handle, but it didn’t budge. “Nothing.”

“You’re just a weak bitch,” Divinity called from the kitchen. He grabbed the ladle to scoop some of the red drink into his Dixie cup. As he dipped into it, he felt a tug. He screamed and dropped it. The ladle sank into the bowl and disappeared entirely before his very eyes. “The hell?”

As Damien went to help Greg with the door, the lights flickered before they went out entirely. Divinity yelped from the kitchen while Bertram barked frantically upstairs from their bedroom. Other than that, the house was silent and dark.

“Something is free,” Deviel whispered.

“What do you mean ‘something?” Damien turned to the devil man and glared at him, or at least he thought so.

“Don’t look at me. I’m still in the crystal downstairs.” Deviel shrugged dismissively. He sniffed the air before he dropped to his knees to sniff the fog. “Though, something is using my crystal to manifest itself into your plane of existence.”

“Something?” Greg whimpered, staring out the window at the angry teenagers egging the house. “What something?”

“I don’t know, but it’s pissed.” Deviel took another whiff of the fog before standing up. “Did you have a dog?”

“If you can call it a dog,” Divinity said, entering the living room. “That thing is a creepy beast from the underworld.”

“No, not Bertram.” Damien felt his stomach churn. He suddenly wanted to puke, knowing the punch had nothing to do with it. “It’s him.”

A howl broke the silence, sending evil shockwaves through the air, shaking every surface down to the foundation of the house.

Greg looked at the ceiling and gasped. “Max?” Another howl was heard, this time coming from the attic. “He’s back! Max has come back!” He sprinted to the staircase and was gone before Damien could stop him. The others had no choice but to follow him.

“Maxie?” Greg stood underneath the attic entrance, which was a staircase one had to pull down from the upstairs ceiling.

“Don’t!” Deviel and Damien shouted in unison as Greg grabbed the chain.

“But Max is up there!” He gave them a sympathetic look as he yanked the staircase down. “He’s probably very upset about the horrible way he died.”

“You think?” Damien asked.

A foul-smelling fog rolled down the stairs and pooled at Greg’s feet. In a blink of an eye, it swooped up and covered Greg’s body before sucking him up into the attic. The staircase ascended with a snap and disappeared.

Damien called out to his boyfriend, but there was no response. “Of course, tonight of all nights, that creepy doll had to come back.”

Divinity popped his tongue and sighed. “You shouldn’t have killed it with the garbage disposal, hun.”

“I’d do it again,” Damien replied.

“You might have to.” Deviel rubbed his fingers on his red blazer. The lights came on just in time for Damien to see the devilish look on his face. “I know how, but you’re not going to like it.”

Damien sighed. “I bet you’re right.”

Divinity glanced between the two of them with a confused expression. “Are you guys gonna have to make out or something, cuz I’m totally here for it. Or better yet, I volunteer as tribute.” He raised his hand emphatically. “I don’t care which one of you I have to kiss.”

“Shut up, Divi,” Damien said. He glared at Deviel intensely, suddenly putting the pieces together. “You did this. You waited until tonight to pull this shit?”

Deviel grinned. He wasn’t going to bother denying that he had waited. The conditions were just right. The spooky energy had been building ever since Damien killed Max, allowing Deviel’s consciousness to awaken. With the aid of the full moon, Deviel was able to channel Max’s spirit into his crystal, allowing him to manifest its power.

“If you don’t free me before midnight, Max will spirit Greg away to the hellish spirit underworld.”

“You dick!” Damien shoved the devil up against the wall, the urge to strangle him rising with each passing second. “Why do you keep fucking with Greg like this?”

“Because he’s your Achilles’ heel.” Deviel cackled with sheer delight as he watched the anguish wash over Damien’s face. “You will do anything for him. You promised to do me a favor to save him, remember? It’s time to cash it in. Your human attachments are so cute.”

Divinity frowned. “That’s evil.”

“I know. It’s hot, right?”

“A little.” Divinity winked at him.

Deviel brushed his blazer as Damien let him go. “If you had just done as I asked when I first came to you, Greg would be fine right now. So, shall we get on with it? You’ve got 15 minutes.”

“He’s got you by the balls, Dames,” Divinity said, nudging his friend. “Lucky bastard.”

“Could you rein in your thirst for one minute?”

“Not even all the seas in the world could quench this thirst, hunny.”

Damien led the way into the basement. He was loath to leave Greg alone in the clutches of that evil stuffed animal, but he had faith that Max wouldn’t hurt him.

The three of them stood before the pulsing red crystal. The sinister fog collected at the base, swirling frantically around it like a whirlpool. Divinity thought he saw something swimming inside it.

Deviel handed Damien a folded sheet of paper and patted him on the shoulder. “Like I promised, I spelled everything out phonetically for your pleasure. Now, speak loud, and speak proud. Let the boys downstairs hear you.”

Damien glanced at Divinity and saw he was enjoying this way more than he should. He rolled his eyes and began to recite the incantation.

With each word he spoke, Damien felt the crystal vibrate with power so strong it resonated in his chest. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t. His will was compelled to complete the spell. He did try to resist but found his tongue tingled painfully when he did so.

When the final word was spoken, the crystal’s light pulsated faster until cracks spidered across its entire surface. Light poured through the fissures, adding a sinister dance club effect to the already strawberry preserves atmosphere.

Deviel’s gleeful expression was almost too much for Damien to stand. If his grin had been any bigger, it would have wrapped around his head before splitting it open. The image was too much.

The power in the crystal pushed at the boundaries of its physical form before it finally burst free, sending chunks flying everywhere. The sheer force threw Damien and Divinity back against the wall, conveniently into each other's arms.

The image of Deviel had been enveloped by the blast of red light. When the light died down, only the shattered remains of the crystal were left. Where had he gone?

Damien stood up, much to Divinity’s chagrin, and walked over to the giant hole where the crystal used to be. He expected to see Deviel curled up naked, like Arnie in the Terminator movies, but only the gap remained. He supposed Deviel’s physical form was destroyed in the blast. Or maybe it disappeared to wherever it needed to go. As long as it wasn’t in his house, he supposed it didn’t matter.

Greg! Damien rushed up the stairs, leaving Divinity to struggle alone in his platform shoes. He ran up to the attic to find Greg unconscious and naked, curled up on the floor in front of the window. Moonlight streamed in, making his body glisten like a sparkly vampire.

Damien ran to him and held him in his arms like he had so many times before. Greg nuzzled into his chest and mumbled something about Max. “I guess the party’s over,” he said to Divinity. He stood up, carrying Greg to the staircase.

“I guess so. It was one hell of a party.” Divinity chuckled uncomfortably at his joke. “I’ll see myself out.” He took out his phone to summon his Lyft.

Damien carried Greg to bed and tucked him in. He couldn’t believe the night’s events. Why was all of this stuff happening to them? Why now? He needed a drink.

He went downstairs to find Divinity was still there. He didn’t mind at the moment. The longer he wasn’t alone, the better.

“Damien, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Damien poured himself another cup of punch. The ladle had reappeared, not that he ever knew it was missing.

“Why do you think Deviel was so insistent that you were the one who read the spell? I mean, he could have had Greg or myself read it, but he chose you.”

Damien didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know it was a good thing or a bad thing. Was not knowing better or worse? He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.