A Spooky Story... (Part One)

So, Halloween.

Okay, okay, I'm a bit late. But it's a beautiful time of year: capitalism and the old custom of knocking on people's doors, threatening supernatural vengence on them if they don't comply, and demanding they give you sugar products come together in one sickly, slightly green, fusion.

It warms your heart.

But none of this bothered me. I was going to meet a friend of mine, we were plug in, amp up, and create that little something we call rock and roll. So I walked through the lonely streets, all by myself, on the one night of the year I was most likely to meet with the occult. Strange shapes flitted in front of me: ghosts, demons, witches, a pirate, long dead and displaced in time. The apparitions appeared small, out of proportion, and wandered the twilight world in groups of three or four. Each group was headed by a taller, more imposing figure, appearing almost human and yet mocking humanity - these arch demons seemed to be in charge of the expedition to the human world. Each group would march purposefully to the doors of the innocent, and demand entry, their thin, hellish voices piping up the eldritch curse of "Trick or treat!" to the unwary who opened their doors. I gripped my crucifix firmly and continued on to my friend's house.
I walked up the drive, rang on the bell, and... well, what follows happened rather quickly, so let's move into written slow motion. The door opened, and I saw the flushed face of my friend, eyes wild, and, much more importantly, holding a gun, which he shot at me. The shot flew wide, and I staggered down the steps in shock.

Recognition flickered across his face, and, with cracked and strained voice he greeted me. "Ben! Thank Goodness you're here!"
"Jake. Hi! You, err, just shot me." Although this was obviously a shock, it wasn't entirely unexpected. I have some... unusual friends.
"Yes, well, never mind that. Get in the house!"
"What?"
"Get in the house now."
"Jake..."
"We have a Code Lazarus, Situation Ultimate Gamma. You know your orders. Get in the house."

Damn. Code Lazarus, as it happens, is one of our series of emergency codes. The code for a zombie uprising, to be precise. Situation Gamma meant it was local - the fact it was Ultimate meant that we had certain, confirmed sightings nearby. I needed no further persuasion: I stepped into the house.

"You're here!" It was Mark, our singer. The two of us being shut in the house with Jake, a man who, I just remembered, had once set his shoes on fire because he was bored. Oh, and he just tried to shoot me. Maybe this wasn't the best idea...

Time to establish what had happened. "Okay, Jake. What's the situation?"
"It's worse than we ever planned for. It was about an hour ago, and I looked out the window, and there they were, stumbling down the road. The children, Ben! They took the children!""
"So you saw some children who looked like zombies walking down the road on Halloween..."
"And buckets! They've taught the zombies to use buckets! We saw them walking with buckets!"

"So, you saw some children who looked like zombies, on Halloween, carrying buckets?" I shared a sidelong look with Mark. "There's only one explanation for this." Mark was nodding. Jake looked worried, and the tension in the room reached breaking point...

"It's a Bucket Wizard."

"A what?"
"A Bucket Wizard. They reanimate those who died young, and give them buckets to collect human souls in."
"Buckets?"
"Jake, are you a dark and dangerous force of the occult?"
"No."
"Then don't question the buckets." At this point, Mark chipped in, ever practical.
"What can we do?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Outside, the thunder executed a perfectly timed dramatic roll. "We're going to need a bigger spade. Settle down, gentlemen. It's going to be a long night."

TO BE CONTINUED