Are You Ready for the Hobgoblins?
Copyrighted by Terry Spear
What if your best friend says she wants you to come over and have fun at her special Halloween party, costumes not necessary? But she’s always been a stickler for them. “If you’re going to party, do it right!” So it’s got you to thinking, what’s she up to this time?
You’re ultra-curious and you’ve been asking her all month long—what’s so special about this party? Who’s going to be there? You’re thinking old boyfriends, and she’s got some idea she wants you to get back together with one of them. You really haven’t a clue. You don’t want to go unprepared.
Ever have a fear of the unknown? Sure, fear of the known can be pretty hard to overcome, too. But let your imagination run wild when you haven’t any idea what’s going to happen, and it can be seriously unfun.
Of course, you could chicken out. But you never chicken out and you’re not about to start now.
So feeling a little strange not to be wearing a costume, you arrive in jeans and a T-shirt featuring an old-time looking jack-o-lantern. You had to wear something! And you feel you’ve entered the Twilight Zone as soon as you walk in the door.
Everyone turns to look at you, men and women dressed in jeans and cotton shirts, no sign of anything Halloween-like, but it’s a veritable jungle in here. Jungle drums and the sounds of the rain forest are playing overhead.
The heater is on full blast. Humidifiers are pouring out wet, soggy air. Real plants fill the whole place, every table space, every wall drips with vines, a soft mist is sprayed through the air, making your hair drip and your mouth gape.
“Can she climb a tree?” a man asked, clutching a drink in his hand.
“Does she like to swim?” Another raked her with his golden gaze.
“Does she purr?” a woman asked, purring the words.
“Does she like to bite?” The first man set his empty glass down among a hodgepodge of greenery and took a step toward her.
Vampires, you’re thinking. Although you can’t imagine how your friend got mixed up with those.
Then a sleek golden cat wearing black ringed rosettes moves into view, a jaguar with green eyes studying you, her mouth opening to show a lot of very sharp, wicked teeth. It can’t be her. Your best friend.
You have to get out of here, now! Why didn’t she tell you?
Why didn’t you tell her?
Before anyone moves any closer, you lift your chin and howl.
Hisses fill the air as if the room is full of vampires or riled up snakes or… jaguar shifters.
You back up toward the door and escape. You hear the howls in the distance, but you don’t want your new wolf pack mates to fight these cats.
You give one last longing look at your friend standing in the doorway of her house, looking confused. And you wished you’d turned her first.
Then you’re off, racing toward your pack.
Maybe, next year you’ll play it safe and just wear a costume.
What do you think? Ready to play with the big boys with teeth?
“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”
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