Work Text:
The wind howled though the dark streets of Arcadia; blowing dry leaves in swirling eddies. Grinning Jack-O-Lanterns glowed outside every home like silent sentinels. They would be gone before the first light of morning touched the rooftops. The final groups of trick-or-treaters scurried home under the baleful light of the full moon.
A lone cloaked figure made his way down the sidewalk. His short stature suggested he was a child but none of the parents approached him. Only fools approached a lone stranger on All Hollow’s Eve in Arcadia; children in colorful costumes where not the only thing afoot tonight.
The figure stopped beside a bare twisted oak tree. He pulled a single marigold out of his cloak and waited; several groups of people passed by, skirting around him without any sign of acknowledgement. Finally, when the streets were completely empty, a long black carriage came and stopped before him. The door opened on its own and the figure entered. There were three other beings, all taller than him, already inside. All wore similar cloaks and had their own marigold.
After a long silent ride the carriage pulled to a halt in front of an old mansion.
Despite its worn and collapsing appearance, the building was lit up and decorated. The bushes surrounding it, overgrown in some parts and half bare in others, had been shaped into strange figures. Blue lights darted around in their depths. Jack-O-Lanterns carved with grotesque faces lined the circular drive. Two skulls, one human, one something other, sat facing outwards and away from each other on either side of the stairs leading up into the mansion. Candles lit them from inside.
The door of the carriage opened. The moment all its occupants exited, it rolled swiftly away. They climbed the steps, passing between the skulls, and came to a stop in front of the door.
Something that resembled a woman wearing the clothes of a butler opened it. Her face was obscured by a golden mask shaped like a raven’s head. There were no visible eyeholes; the two emeralds in the place of its eyes seemed to glow with a light of their own. She held out Her hand and one by one each of the guests placed their marigold in it. She stepped to the side and allowed them to pass.
Once inside they removed their cloaks. The smallest one wore a rather tacky looking paper-mache mask shaped like a lion trimmed in frayed orange yarn.
The lion followed the other three down the entry hall into a large ball room. It must been truly grand at some point but now it was falling into disrepair. The patterned wall paper peeled off in lazy curls and grass grew through the tiles. Most arrestingly of all a large portion of the roof had broken free. Candles sat in holders made out of the broken beams.
Through that large hole in the ceiling the moon shined down on a crowd of dancers. They all wore masks of different animals, some natural and some fantastical. They were made from everything. They ranged from simple paper to exquisite creations of silver or carved wood. Some were even inlaid with gems.
The lion stood at the edge of the room shifting from foot to foot. After a moment he moved toward a table on the side where drinks and hors d’oeuvres were being offered in sparkling crystal ware. A person in a suit wearing a hawk mask was watching the table closely.
The lion got a bowl of punch and moved to stand among a shifting crowd that was eating and drinking while watching the dancers.
A tall woman in a purple silk dress with a fox mask passed by, moving with a strange birdlike gait. She beckoned another woman who was wearing a wolf mask, suit, and thick fur cape to dance with her. The wolf bowed and the fox curtsied and they swirled away together.
“Quite the festivities?” Someone with a soft British accent remarked.
The lion glanced to his left and saw a man wearing an eagle mask standing beside him. A pair of long antelope-like horns jutted out of his greying hair. He was wearing an expensive looking three piece suit and a cape shaped like closed wings. There collar of real feathers around his neck.
“Yes,” The lion said, slightly tense.
The eagle chuckled.
“Do try to enjoy the party. There are few quite like it.” He took a sip of dark crimson wine from his glass. “Our Lady delights in our merriment.”
He patted the lion’s shoulder and wandered away into the crowd.
The lion finished the punch and stood there shifting from foot to foot glass tightly in his hands. There was a tug at his pant leg and he looked down to see a flat green face staring up at him. The goblin pointed at his empty glass and held out its hand. He passed it over and the small creature scurried away with it.
“Care for a dance?”
The lion jolted slightly. A person wearing a midnight blue dress had approached him… Or rather the skirt of the dress was midnight blue, the bodice was covered in green scales that slowly faded out the farther down they went. The woman was wearing a green snake mask with blue feathered accents.
He hesitated for a moment longer before bowing and accepting her hand.
The lion moved hesitantly so the snake did the leading, flowing across the grassy tile in smooth measured steps. After a few turns she passed him off to a hyena and began dancing with an owl. After that it all flowed together: music and moonlight and candlelight and swirling clothes and beings in masks: some seemingly human, others distinctly not…
Until finally a bell rang out and the dancers stopped.
…The creature wearing the golden raven mask moved into the center of the dancers. She held a large bouquet of marigolds in Her hands. They parted for Her silently and a hungry silence filled the air.
“Welcome all,” She spoke in a voice that seemed to echo itself. The raven mask flickered like fire and shadow beneath the light of the moon. “It is midnight and our time draws to a close. I hope you have enjoyed yourselves, My Children.”
There were murmurs of agreement from the surrounding creatures. She raised Her hand to silence them.
“It shall soon be time to go, but first I believe we have an unwanted guest. I wish you all a good night and a merry Hunt.”
And with that she turned away.
All the masked figures turned to each other, murmuring in quiet excitement. There was a soft cry like a hawk and the crowd turned as one to see a slight man in a nondescript black suit and a dog mask trying to edge away toward the hallway exiting the mansion. For one frozen moment they stared at each other, and then the dog fled.
An excited cry went up and The Hunt was on.
The lion slipped quietly through the woods and into the backyard of a rather nondescript house at the end of a cul-de-sac. With shaking hands he pulled off his mask.
Toby stared at the lion’s face for a long moment before retrieving the lighter he had hidden in his pocket. He lit the mask on fire and watched it burn before entering the dark house to try to sleep.