The Hell of Halloween

Devlin looked at his reflection in the mirror and straightened his shirt collar. It was Halloween Night and he was visiting the Crescent City for the first time in a while.

Instead of hailing a taxi, he chose to walk the few blocks to Bourbon Street, which was filled with revelers, young and old. Devlin wasn’t searching for anything in particular — he was simply there to enjoy the festive spirit of the city.

It was intoxicating, the different costumes of those dancing in the street and along the sidewalks. Two New Orleans police officers, astride their white horses, patrolled the area watching for partiers who may have had too much drink.

As Devlin stepped passed one of the horses, it spooked, bolting sideways into the horse next to it. He ducked and jumped up onto the sidewalk, worried he might be kicked by the skittish animal.

Soon he had forgotten the incident. Instead he was enjoying something the bartender had recommended and called a ‘Witch’s Brew.’

“Not very manly,” he chuckled, “But it tastes good.”

Looking for the right vibe, Devlin wandered down the block, visiting one establishment after another. He finally found a place that suited his mood and jus’ as quickly discovered someone who met his interest.

That someone was a woman, whose face was painted with a Mexican-style ‘Día de Muertos’ mask. The whiteness of her make up contrasted sharply with her darker skin tone and this drew Devlin’s attention.

He leaned up to the bar and shouted over the band, “Get her what ever she wants to drink,” he instructed as he pointed to the woman at the far end of the long counter.

Devlin returned to his beer, sipping it as he fought to keep from looking over at the woman he had jus’ sent a drink too. He didn’t want to seem like he was too eager for her company.

The strategy worked, as soon he was joined by the woman.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

He returned her smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Lily,” she stated out of the blue.

“Devlin,” he responded, adding “I love your costume. That’s quite the make-up job. It must’ve taken you a while to get it so perfect.”

“You’d be surprised,” Lily returned, changing the subject. “Wanna dance?”

Together the pair stepped out onto the near empty dance floor. They spun and twirled like they’d been partnered for years.

The band played a slow song and Devlin and Lily melted together as if one. He looked into he eyes, seeing her soul for the first time and knowing she was the one.

As if she were reading his mind, “Do you want to get out of here – go someplace more private?”

Without a word they left and started up Bourbon Street towards his motel room. They softly talked between themselves as the noise of the nightlife fell away behind them.

“As pretty as you are in that make-up,” Devlin said in a low tone, “I can’t wait to see you without it.”

Lily smiled coyly at the thought, “I’m not really all that much to look at. In fact I look pretty much like any girl out on the town tonight.”

“I doubt it,” Devlin argued.

Before they knew it, they were standing in front of his room. Devlin nervously fumbled with the key as he unlocked the door.

Once inside, they fell together on the queen sized bed. They pawed wildly at one another, pulling clothing from each others body until naked, except for Lily’s s face paint.

Excited as he was, Devlin asked, “Are you going to wipe that make up away?”

Lily slid down onto his manliness and giggled, “It’s not make up or paint, silly!”

Devlin froze momentarily, surprised as he watched the woman transform from a beauty into an old hag. The old woman bucked violently against his hips as she continued to change into something nearly unrecognizable from what she had been.

Instead of frightening Devlin as she intended, the man underneath her began to laugh menacingly. He then gripped her hips, pressing her down even further.

It was now her turn to be surprised as the handsome male figure grew scaly and rough. She tried to squirm loose but his massive claws held her firm as he erupted inside her.

Still laughing, “I told you that one day, Lilith — I’d have you again and that you’d come willingly,” Devlin growled as he revealed his real self.

Lucifer’s laughter drowned out her screams as the two twisted together in the throes of a deadly passion that only darkness could understand.

“I won’t know for sure, Chief,” the fire inspector answered, “until I get these samples analyzed. But for now lets jus’ call it suspicious.”

The two stood outside the door way of a fire-gutted motel room jus’ a few blocks from Bourbon Street. Nearly everything in the room was blackened from the smoke and flames.

Puzzled, the Battalion Chief shook his head, “I can’t explain the lack of burn marks in the bed. And no body or part of a body to be found – even though it sure looks the hell like one should be laying there.”

Even stranger yet, was the Day of the Dead mask, he held in a large plastic baggie, found by fire fighters amid the charred ruins of the room, untouched by either heat or smoke.

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