This story is dedicated to everybody that requested it; everybody that reviewed my stories; everyone who favourited and followed; everyone who read. Thank you so much for giving me faith in myself.

I do not own Soul Eater, nor Disney's rendition of Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) by Henry Selick, scored by Danny Elfman. All italicised references are from the separate songs from the film, and appear in order as they would when watching the movie (some double up).

I do not own the image used as the cover for this story - I sourced it online from NeonxPandaon deviantART. Credit where it is due.

Enjoy.

EVERYBODY SCREAM
by Lisp.

In this town, don't we love it now;
Everybody's waiting for the next surprise!

The two of them sat on the dusty ground, their breaths hushed and their eyes wide with excitement as they stared, entranced, at the page before them. They'd been told not to touch it, no, their mother had warned them not to play with it! But they hadn't listened, and now they were crouched on the garage floor, gazing with awe at the old book from the basement. It had fancy, gilded lettering proclaiming it to be, The Craft of The Elders. Daddy had said it was some sort of witchy book, with all sorts of nasty things in it, and they were not to touch. But Daddy wouldn't know, Mummy wouldn't know, and everything was so exciting. Each page had weird, twisted letters and shapes that the two boys had never seen before. They didn't understand this book, but it felt powerful. On Halloween, most of the other kids from school would be out Trick-Or-Treating, but no, they would have the best trick of all!

They were going to summon a warlock.

The eldest of the two leaned in, trying to make out a big, weird word. It wasn't like the ones he was learning in class, but his little brother was watching him intently, so he'd have to figure out what it said. "Wa . . . warlock. G-great war . . . warlock. Je – Jen – Jenovus?"

"Jenovus!" his younger brother repeated excitedly, watching the book. As they spoke the word, the page flipped. No, he hadn't touched it, he swore! It flipped by itself! It was a magic book – it must have been working. They were going to meet a real wizard, and he'd let them fly and go invisible and scare all of their friends! Nobody was going to top this.

The book started to glow. For a moment, there was only a greenish tinge to the ink of the pages, but soon the writing shone with luminescent pulses, starting to pound as if to an invisible drum beat. Both brothers, at first so excited, shrunk back with sudden fear. Was this working? Was the book doing the right thing, or was it going to turn around and eat them? What should they do? The youngest of the siblings was trembling, holding his brother's arm, and then he too was quivering as the book rose into the air, higher, higher - !

And then the light disappeared. The book fell, landing on the ground with a dull thud and causing the dust to puff up. Both children let out a sigh, their fear leaving, but they were both starting to think that maybe Daddy was right . . .

That was until the hair protruded from the middle of the book. It was odd – one moment there was nothing there, and the next, the spine was folding back and the top of a head was sticking out. It looked strange, and both boys skidded back, whimpering. They were too scared to call for their parents, but it wouldn't matter, because they were here with only a babysitter while Mummy and Daddy went out to dinner. Nobody would help them now.

More of the man emerged – a face, sharp and handsome, framed by shoulder length black hair. Shoulders and a chest, strong and lean like a knife. Long legs, covered in dark grey suit pants that matched his old-fashioned blazer and deep blue ascot. Shoes with odd points on the end, like Daddy's dress ones. He held a cane in his right hand and he swung it to and fro as he stepped fully out of the book, looking down at the two snivelling mortal youths before him.

Both of the boys screamed when he grinned down at them, his eyes flashing bright blue as his cane began to glow with the same weird green light as before.

"Hallows Eve. How fitting," he said in a strong and sardonic voice, his hands rising at the two who had summoned him from his confining slumber. "And the place where it all began, too. This world is full of surprises. Halloween Town, the land of Death; what a nice playground." And then the light shone past the cane, and everything was white.

Come with us and you will see,
This, our town of Halloween.

"I still can't believe I have to do this," Soul said with a scowl, holding his bag tightly in his fist. "I mean, it's one thing for you to even make me go to this stupid party. It's another to make me dress in some lame costume for a whole night. But to kick me out of my own apartment, so that you can play Barbie with your friends? That's low, even for you."

"Oh, stop complaining," Maka replied cheerfully, herding him toward the door. "If you see all of our costumes, then it will completely ruin the fun of us all meeting up again at the party! You can go and hang out at the Gallows manor with Black*Star and Kid for a while, and get ready there. Meanwhile, let us have all the fun over here, okay?"

And with that, she'd shoved him out of the apartment, closing the door in his face with a sunny smile. He looked at it in irritation for a moment before sighing and setting off toward the stairwell. Great. It was a widely known fact that Soul 'Eater' Evans hated Halloween. Whether it was because he didn't celebrate it when he was little like every other human being on the planet, or because he found dressing up foolishly uncool, nobody was quite certain, but he loathed the entire idea of the thing. The ritualistic prayers to the spirits, the seeing of dead loved ones – sure, that was cool. But the running around in dumb get-ups for a bit of candy? No way. And now the pinnacle of uncool was before him, on this stupid night of All Hallows Eve – Kid's fancy dress party. The Shinigami, whether due to stress from work – being Shinigami-sama was hard, after all – or begging from his weapons, it was uncertain, was throwing a big party for all of Shibusen, or so it seemed, at his mansion to celebrate the night. And everyone had to come in costume. That included one pissed-off Soul. He'd been adamant on not going initially, but when one is up against the power of Maka's puppy-dog eyes, Patti's scary face, Black*Star's yelling and a whole lot of books to the head, an argument can't last very long. He'd conceded to attend, even to dress up, no matter how much it had annoyed him.

But now he couldn't even relax in his own apartment before going to this stupid thing. Maka and the girls were all getting ready together or something and that meant that oh, he wasn't invited to stay in his room and live in his own apartment, which he'd owned before Maka even came into the picture, but that didn't matter because Liz, Patti and Tsubaki were coming over, so of course he couldn't be there! He grumbled these thoughts to himself as he took the stairs two at a time, descending quickly due to his aggravation.

Well, Soul thought with a spark, if they're gonna' make me go through all this shit just for some idiotic party; I'm going to show them just what a cool costume is. Sheets, zombies? Please. He held the bag in his hand with a grin. In the town of Death, where every day seemed to be like Halloween, there was only one choice. If you're gonna' go, go big.

If he saw any shadows looking particularly menacing among the pumpkin lights strung along the lampposts, if any bushes quivered and any sounds echoed around the quiet cobblestone pavements of his street, he dismissed them as holiday cheer for the night where the spirits came back to haunt them, and all the other superstitious shit like that which came with Halloween.

It was ironic, that on tonight of all nights, the dead would rise. And yet Death City, blinded by the orange glow from the shop-hangings and the decorative skeletons strung from the powerlines, saw it all, while seeing none of it.

If they only understood.
That he'd give it all up,
If he only could.

Black*Star grinned, his feet propped on the expensive glass table and crossed at the ankles. He regarded his best friend with a cocked eyebrow, ignoring Kid's chidings to stop sullying the furniture with his shoes.

"So, what're you going as then, man? You can be a follower to me if you want!" he said, tipping his head back and stretching out his neck. "That'd be sweet."

"Only for you, idiot," Soul replied scornfully, half-reclined on a black leather couch. He, at least, had had the decency to take his shoes off. "And you'll see when it comes to tonight, won't you?"

Black*Star straightened, his blue hair bouncing with the sudden force. "Aw, that's no fair! Come on, Soul, I'll tell you what I'm going as!"

"I believe I already know," Kid said with a slow shake of his head, sitting primly on the Lazy-Boy. "It's completely ridiculous."

"Is not! You wish you'd thought of it, don't lie," Black*Star exclaimed. He turned to Soul eagerly. "I'm going as a God, man, it's gonna' be awesome."

"Uh . . . what?"

"You know, with the yoga and stuff?" he replied, still obviously excited.

Kid put his head in his hands – perfectly symmetrical. "He means toga. I believe he means to represent one of the Greek gods, by the looks of things. It's completely ludicrous. He has the sheet, the golden belt and the leaves in his hair. It's absolutely stereotypical."

Soul raised his eyebrows. "Actually, that's pretty impressive. I figured you'd just cut holes in a blanket and wear it over your head, saying 'Boo!' and shit like that."

"That would be for mere peasants!" Black*Star said, his nose upturned. "Why, is that your costume?"

"No," he replied, easily dodging the probe to say just what his costume was. "I ain't stupid, 'Star."

Black*Star pouted, but soon turned to Kid. "What are you going as, then? The number eight?"

"While that would be appealing," the Shinigami replied with some indignation, "you should know that I am going to be a skeleton." At the other boys' looks, he grinned and clapped his hands together. "Think of the symmetry of the bones! Now that those accursed Lines of Sanzu are connected, I shall be perfectly balanced, and the costume will match my hair!"

The ninja meister snorted. "Nice costume. Really shows all the guts you have, Kid!"

As the two began to argue and fight, Soul blew his breath out through his teeth and stood. If they were going to act like children, he may as well raid the fridge and keep his appetite sated while he watched the show. He only wondered now what the girls were all going as, and whether Maka's costume was as cool as she seemed to think.

The monsters are all missing,
And the nightmares can't be found,
And in this place there seems to be
Good feeling all around!

Maka looked into the mirror and smiled. She couldn't help it – she was just so ecstatic about it all! She loved Halloween, no matter how much a certain stupid, conceited partner thought it was all a load of crap. When she was young, her mother would make her costumes by hand for her and the entire family would decorate the Albarn house in the scariest things they could find. There were spider-webs, vampires, mummies in coffins, and of course, the respect-paying altar to Shinigami-sama that everyone had in their homes. Whether they had a small pile of incense or some great statue, everyone on Halloween night would burn a candle beside a mask, in honour of Shinigami-sama and the dead that sided with him.

Kid was uncomfortable with this respect now being paid to him, but he'd done it before last year so he knew the drill well enough by now. Soul had been making jokes about it all week.

Despite stupid Soul, she was going to enjoy this night, and with her costume, she was going to look kick-ass.

"Your make-up is totally brilliant," Liz commented enviously as she curled the meister's hair. "I'm kind of scared just being this close to you."

"That's the idea," Maka replied happily, moving her head to the side in order to prevent any of her time-consuming-to-apply make-up to drip into her hair or onto the bathroom sink.

She was going to the party as a dead person. Not a zombie or anything lame like that, but an honest-to-Death murder victim. Through using special compound, tissue paper and fake blood, she'd applied a great slash to her throat. It looked gory, with thick rivers of blood cascading and drying on the hems of her torn white lace dress. Her eyes were shadowed and she'd applied eyeliner, so every time she closed them they looked stitched over, with the help of the dark mascara on her lashes. Her face had been lightly dusted with pale concealer and powder to make her skin look white and dead, but apart from that she had no other adornments – less was more. In fact, as she gazed upon her own appearance, she couldn't help but feel elated about how great it looked, how real it looked.

It was odd; they were all surrounded by the concept of Death, the fear of it, and the embodiment of it on a daily basis. At any moment, a meister or weapon could die in battle, their souls becoming nothing more than a fragment of memory for later musings and remorse. For the most part, their lives were strict and they brushed the thought of dying aside, trying to focus on the more mundane aspects of enjoying life, rather than the constant threat looming over their heads that they might not wake up the next morning.

But Halloween changed all that. It was like there was some kind of magic in the air, something that changed everyone's sombre outlook on the End, and made it all fun. Although people did not dress as witches – originally because of their fear of them, now, because of the truce, out of respect for them – zombies, murderers, ghouls, demons, the lot, were all accepted as costume ideas. What would normally strike fear in a meister or weapon's heart, what would normally be an opponent in a life-or-death situation, became comical. It was the one time of the year where the students of Shibusen could just be students, kids out goofing off for the night and not worrying if someone was covered in 'blood', or if they were going to see their bed again.

And yet, Soul still hated it, that pessimist.

"There, all done!" Liz said triumphantly. "Someone's going to think you look hot!"

"What?" she asked sharply, whirling on her with narrowed eyes. If she was going to make another joke . . . "What are you talking about?"

"Well, maybe you can impress a certain guy tonight," the older girl said with a waggle of her eyebrows. She leaned back and admired her handiwork. Maka's hair was straight over her eyes and around her face, but the back was curled. It was a mix between being elegant and regular and that of someone who had just been murdered – just the right mix to look good. Maka thanked Liz, albeit glaring at the innuendo, standing up from the stool in the bathroom and taking her eyes off of her own figure and costume to observe everyone else's.

The choices surprised her. Tsubaki was dressed in a slim-fitting black one piece, and she had her hair tied back elaborately. She even had the thigh-holsters and the belt around her waist – she was in a costume that was some sort of mix of super-agent and ninja. Whatever it was, it looked kick-butt. Patti had on a crop top and shorts that were red, white and blue, with the star and stripes emblazoned on the front – she was like a girl-Captain America. Her hair was even tucked neatly under a baseball cap with the wings protruding from the sides and the 'A' on the front, and she held a miniature shield in her left hand. When Maka had asked Liz about Patti's choice, she'd revealed that her younger sister was, surprisingly, really into The Avengers and Marvel. It seemed out of character for the young bubbly girl, but then Maka remembered all of the explosions in the film and was slightly less surprised. Liz herself wore a tight, female version of a suit, complete with a black tie adorned with little Shinigami skulls. She wore her hair back and sunglasses, and overall looked like the most bad-ass version of a CIA agent that any of the girls had ever seen. The scythe meister was amused to note that both sisters' costumes, despite being different, were perfectly symmetrical.

She beamed at them all – they had all stuck to their promise to not wear anything short and related to devils, nurses, or animals. They didn't need to look like dollymops in order to enjoy their night, now did they? Cool Halloween costumes, as Soul had said, didn't work unless they were out to do more than allow a girl to look like a whore with a reason to. After all, what was so scary about a cat?

Tsubaki grinned at her friends. "Well, is everyone ready to go, then?"

"Yep," Maka confirmed, grabbing her white ballet flats and heading for the door. "Let's go knock 'em dead."

Oh my, what now, the children are asleep,
But no, there's nothing underneath.
No ghouls, no witches here to scream and scare them,
Or ensnare them, only little cosy things secure inside their
Dreamland . . . What's this?

The soul slipped down his throat, quenching his hunger marginally. But no, it was not enough, not nearly enough. He had been locked in that book for so long, just waiting to be freed by someone naive enough to not be wary of a spell book in Death City of all things. The Shinigami had held him captive with his own magic for far too long – he must seek his revenge now, on the 'God's city, while the pickings were fresh and the victims were worth a good scream.

Jeno Vussien pushed the child's corpse aside, grinning at its apparel. She had been dressed as a fairy, by the looks of things, or at least some kind of mockery of a sprite. The young one was probably roaming the streets in search for sweets and trickery, as they all were on this night of the Dead. It made taking his victims easy – nobody would question his looks, his staff or his motives for being out on a night such as this.

As he began to prowl around for another soul to claim for his appetite and his lust for revenge, something caught his eye. Or, more like, it enticed his soul as his demonic variation of Soul Perception alerted him to it. There, in the middle of the City, was a gathering of many souls. All seemed to be young, full of vitality and life, and they were pulsing with different levels of . . . power.

The souls of weapons and meisters.

Jeno checked his sudden rapid walk immediately, sensing the gathering more. It seemed to be right near where . . . Oh, it couldn't be.

The Gallows mansion. The home of the one that he had held in such contempt, the one who had ended him and sealed away his soul. The mansion of Shinigami-sama. Jeno did not try to stop the wicked grin that graced his features. He would seek his revenge, find the powerful souls at the mansion, and he would snuff out their life before Shinigami-sama himself, without allowing the Death God time to even comprehend what was happening.

It was all too delicious.

In one movement, the warlock became nothing more than a shadow on the wall, moving inconspicuously closer to the pounding beats and bright lights that were the Halloween party.

It's a world unlike anything I've ever seen,
And as hard as I try, I can't seem to describe,
Like a most improbable dream.

Well, this was certainly something.

Maka's eyes were wide as she took in her surroundings; the pounding strobes, the tall speakers and the crush of bodies swarming around the entrance of the manor, stretching further into the house like some great wave, swelling in time to the music. Had Kid had parties before? Yes. Were they sometimes ones that included a lot of people? Yes. Had they ever been anything like this? No.

Yep, she thought, blowing out her breath as she looked up at the tall building, the other girls skipping ahead of her quickly, this was definitely less the idea of a Shinigami, and more two certain girls that know how to push his buttons.

She saw people left and right as she moved into the great house, her ears suddenly fuzzed as she tried to adjust to the loud volume of the dance tracks playing. Some were students from Shibusen that she knew only by sight, being in the NOT classes or in different levels to her. Others she was more intimately acquainted with; there was Kim by one of the staircases, a red cup in her hand as she whispered something in her partner, Jackie's ear. The girls were both dressed as some sort of mix between a fairy and a dark angel, with red bodices and purple wings that corresponded with each others'. Nearby were Ox and Harvar, one in a full, ridiculous Batman suit and the other with a suit on like an agent, to match his sunglasses. Oh, Liz would not be pleased. Kilik's voice was coming over the speakers – he must have been the disc jockey for the night. Maka turned to make a comment on this to her friends behind her, and was surprised to see that they weren't there. Apparently the sea of teenagers had swallowed them all, and they were probably searching for other friends or their partners.

Maybe I should look for Soul, too, Maka thought, but she was in no hurry. Despite him whining and carrying on about having to come, she knew he'd keep his word. If she tried hard enough, she might even be able to sense his soul in this crowd – but without him there to strengthen her Perception, all of the students in here would make it too difficult to pinpoint any one person.

As she stepped over what appeared to be a fake coffin, having escaped the tidal current of people, she observed the interior decoration of the house. There was no denying that she was impressed, despite it being Kid throwing this party. It was like nothing she'd ever seen.

The first thing to note was that everything was obviously symmetrical. Coffins were positioned to the same angle against every wall, and they were draped with an even amount of cobwebs. These also hung from the ceiling, the great chandelier's lights being swarmed in it as they shone red by some mysterious filter. There were miscellaneous objects also, such as a severed arm on a table (at each end, of course), Shinigami skulls on the roof and walls, and a blood-splattered clear film spread over one of the white lounges, making it look like the blood was actually on it. Only knowing Kid's tendencies toward cleanliness stopped Maka from believing it was real. The costumes people wore were incredible, to say the least. Nobody ever went for a half-hearted attempt in Death City, so the detail of the outfits was great. Everybody seemed to be dressed as something else, be it haunting, hot or hilarious. There were a lot of cat ears and nurse caps in the sea of partiers, but, Maka sighed, what else could be expected?

As she noted all of this, she couldn't help but feel her curiosity spark. What would the boys be wearing, and what was Soul's costume? They hadn't spoken to each other about their evening's apparel, both preferring to be surprised on the night. Plus, it made the both of them harder to pick out among the crowd. If Maka peered out from her place over the dancing masses just enough, gazing through the opened double doors into the ballroom just across from the entrance room where people were gathered to mingle –

Yes, there was the blue hair. That was Black*Star, kicking his legs around and pumping the air with his fist up near the disc jockey station. He was wearing a white toga and gold leaves in his hair, in a surprisingly good costume. Of course, he was being a God. Typical, Maka thought with an eye-roll. Tsubaki was near him, holding a plate for him and smiling. Near them were Liz and Patti, both dancing with people that were unfamiliar to the scythe-meister, but enjoying themselves either way as they wildly moved their bodies around in an almost indecent way for any other scene.

They were something else, those Thompsons.

If she peered harder, around the Spartoi members and strangers, she could see Kid speaking with Kilik up at the station itself. She had been right in supposing him to be a DJ. Kid was wearing an amusingly symmetrical ensemble of black pants and shirt, a skeleton print applied precisely. He even had the dark circles painted around his eyes. Kilik looked like he had come as Superman.

So, if there were all her other friends, where was Soul? She had honestly expected him to be with Black*Star or Kid, either making a snide comment or standing back and laughing as the other made a fool of himself. She didn't suppose he would be dancing – this music wasn't his beloved jazz, or his rigorous classic, or even the punk that he enjoyed. It was more her style – computer generated beats that could get anyone moving. Anyone except a certain stubborn scythe boy, anyway.

Had he really – chickened out? Decided it wasn't worth his time and not shown up? She'd been so sure that he would be here, because he said he would, and he didn't tell lies to her when it was something important. Then again, he could have been against being so close to all of these people, and made the decision to skip out. Or . . . or he could be with another girl or something. Everyone at Shibusen was here, so surely if he liked someone he could be hanging with them right now.

Maka stopped perusing the crowd immediately, turning her head and focussing on something else – the punch bowl. She didn't want to have negative thoughts like this. Soul or no Soul, she would enjoy this party tonight. It had been her pact not to let him and his negativity or status as her partner, friend and nothing more get in the way of something as cherished as a Halloween party. Liz had been saying all afternoon that it was the perfect night for them to – express their feelings, although she hadn't put it like that, since she'd be all dolled up. She disagreed. It was a night for frights and fun, not worrying about platonic relationships and things like that.

"Hey, Maka, you look awesome!" she heard from somewhere beside her, her head snapping up as she loaded a red cup with tropical punch. It was Kim, her pink hair wild and her wings already slightly bent from dancing among the massive crowd. "How did you do your make-up?"

"Magic," Maka joked, and the witch girl joined in with her laugh. "Nice costume, too. You and Jackie look great with your matching colours. When did you get here?"

"A while ago, we've been dancing for ages! Have you seen Ox tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, he's in a Batman get up, isn't he?"

Kim moaned and nodded. "If he's going to insist on following me around all night, then he could at least wear something decent to be seen in! Like a business man, or a CEO, or - !"

"You just like them because they're rich men, am I right?"

"Oh, yeah," the pink-haired girl grinned, lightly hitting Maka's arm. "So, where's your date for the evening then?"

"Date?"

Kim sighed and elaborated. "You know? Tall-ish, spiky white hair, red eyes, constant bad mood and facial expression like the world is pissing him off?"

"Soul?" she replied, slightly shocked at the word date being used to describe him, but amused to no end that Kim had referred to his usually irritated demeanour in such a way. "I don't know. He and I didn't even come at the same time, let alone together."

Kim cocked her head to the side. "Weird. I would have thought for sure, tonight of all nights . . ." When she saw Maka's expression darkening with ire, her mind spinning back to Liz's jabs, she wisely changed topic. "Oh, I love this song! Come and dance with me, we'll have all the boys throwing their wallets just to see what we have!"

Slightly disturbed by this description of Kim's dancing, she tried to decline, but the witch already had a firm grip on her wrist and began to tug her through the masses toward the ball room of the manor, which had been set up as the dance space. People were already jumping to the beats that Kilik let seep from the speakers, their arms rose in the air and their heads tipped back as they enjoyed the stress-free release of a party. Kim darted through the people as they danced, getting to a good spot in the middle of the room. Once there, she began to join in with the surrounding crowd, getting right into the song. Maka, however, didn't immediately join in with the partiers, despite also liking the song on track. As she had been pulled in, she had seen something and felt it on the edge of her Soul Perception, almost like a beacon flicker . . .

A flash of red and white, and a chord ringing through her – Soul.

But when she had turned her head, she had seen nothing, just more of the students from other classes or her own that she was unfamiliar with.

She was fairly anxious to find out if he had indeed kept his promise and attended, so she was on the lookout. When Kim had her back turned, dancing with some guy from Crescent Moon that she thought might have been a Demon Naginata; she slipped away and made her way once more to the edges of the crush. She had told herself that she wouldn't spend the night thinking of him, and now she was a sight to be looked at, stopping herself from enjoying even a dance track just to try and catch a glimpse of white hair.

She left the dance area, hurrying as she heard Black*Star call out to her to come and join his 'Godly mosh', and skimmed the buffet areas for him. He wasn't at either of the two large tables lining the dining hall walls, nor hanging around near the two big punch stations in the front room. If he was here, then he must be either off with someone else, or moping around outside because of the size of this get-together. Maka had to admit, Kid had really outdone himself this time - !

And then she got the sudden urge to turn, her Soul Perception telling her that there was someone, a soul so strong, right behind her. She spun around, and there, leaning against the wall, he was.

Like music drifting in the air -
Invisible, but everywhere.

Her eyes burned from taking him in, because it was perfect. The entire outfit was just perfect, and she couldn't lift her gaze as she drank it all in.

Soul was dressed in the best, most ironic costume he could have chosen – the Mad Hatter. He wore a red swallow-tail waist coat, vibrant in colour and matching his eyes. She had no idea where he'd gotten it, but it fit in a way that made him look strong and lithe at the same time. It was buttoned with black circular six-sets at the front, and a black silk dress shirt could be seen peeking from the very top collar. He also wore black dress pants to accompany the coat, looking everything like a mix between a fairytale prince and a Victorian gentleman, all accentuated by the blinding white. From his pants pocket hung a fob watch, real or fake she could not tell. And the best thing was the black top hat, perched at a crooked angle over his messy white hair. On the side was the customary card of the Mad Hatter, but it had a 42/42 scrawled on it instead of the regular numbers. He was leaning his back against the wall, one leg supporting on it and the other straight in front of him, with his hands in his black pants pockets, his hat pushing his hair over one eye while the other looked at her, a smirk on his face. She started when she caught his look, and instantly composed herself so as to stop gawking at his impressive costume and somewhat ridiculously attractive appearance.

"Nice," he said, eyeing the gash on her neck that pulsed with a bloody realness under the strobe lights. "Looks like you must have really pissed Blair off for her to do that to you."

She grinned. "Not a bad costume yourself. I have to say, it sort of suits you in an ironic way, you know?"

He laughed, standing easily from the wall. He didn't look to be slouching as he customarily did – it only made the costume work better for him. Maka saw a few girls nearby eyeing him now, ignoring the boys who had previously been claiming their attention. "Well, you got slashed and I went crazy – I'd have to say both of these costumes work pretty well for us, yeah?"

"Definitely. Almost as much as Black*Star's – I thought he'd go for a sheet with eye holes."

"I know, right?" he said with a grin. "You also thought I wouldn't come, didn't you?"

"Wha – no! Of course I knew you'd come, because I know you know I'd Chop you into the next century if you weaselled out," she said challengingly, hiding her blush.

He snorted. "I'm already mad; what are a few hits to the head going to change?"

"You want to find out?" she asked with a cunning smile, and he just rolled his eyes. At that moment, one of her favourite songs began to play, the sound of the heavy machine-like sounds filtering through the houses speakers to a cry of delight from the dancing crowd inside the ballroom. "I love this song!" she exclaimed, turning back to Soul to force him to come and dance with her . . .

And stopped short. He had been right beside her a moment ago, and now there was nothing but the empty air. She gawked – how would he have gotten away that quickly? There had only been a few seconds where her eyes were off him, weren't there? He couldn't just vanish into thin air like that, could he? It was like he had taken on the insane abilities of his costume, disappearing with the music into the surrounding party. She craned her neck over the wall of bodies, but that flash of red didn't catch her eye again. Maka sighed in disappointment, before suddenly her arm was snatched up.

"Not getting away that easy!" Kim crowed in vicious delight, pulling Maka eagerly toward the dancers. "Come on, Liz and Patti are looking for you! We're all dancing together, Maka, let's go!"

This time, assured that her partner had indeed kept his promise and come, in a confusingly good-looking costume and with a certain amount of holiday cheer, she didn't resist, letting herself get pulled into the flashing lights of the party. She'd see him later.

Time to give them something fun,
They'll talk about for years to come,
Let's have a cheer from everyone!
It's time to party.

Soul grinned, leaning on the rails of one of the Gallows Manor's great balconies. Oh, how this was going perfectly according to plan! He'd set himself up for a night's entertainment by, quite frankly, scaring the living Hell out of Maka and confusing her. Whenever she was alone, he would saunter up, unseen and making sure to keep as distanced from her soul wavelength as possible, initiating no resonance. She would demand to know where he kept running off to, he would say he didn't know what she meant, and then he'd hang with her at the party for a while. Hell, he'd even gone out onto the dance floor with her once, because it had been her favourite song and she'd begged and threatened, and said, 'Come on, nobody will notice it's you dancing, Soul, be cool this one time, for me!'

And then, whenever one of their friends came up to talk to her, he'd disappear, immersing himself in the shadows. When she would look, spinning immediately to try and catch him in the act, he would make sure to hide and hope she didn't see him. So far it was working. What also helped was the fact that he'd made all of his and Maka's friends promise to say that they hadn't seen him with her when they had been approaching. While she was certain she'd been talking to him, her friends' adamant protests were starting to freak her out. Once she was gone again, he'd go hang out with other people, or do what he was doing now, which was chill outside for a while, away from all of the pressure of the mass of people. If Maka had wanted him to attend and have fun, he was doing it. She was getting majorly annoyed and freaked out, and he was enjoying every second of it. It didn't bother him that he had to keep hiding – he'd never been one for parties, even of this type. Something about the great mass of people made him nervous and uncomfortable. Be it his childhood or a natural aversion to groups, he preferred being with his select group of friends, by himself, or best, with Maka.

She really had gone all out with her costume tonight. If he were admitting it to himself, he could easily say that she looked fantastic – but the words would never leave his lips if he was talking to her. That was beside the point. He was enjoying seeing her eyes light up in anger or surprise every time she saw him – it was his favourite reason to ambush her so. Call him sad, say he had no life, but he had been surrounded by his meister for so long that finding any way to bring out new quirks in her was amusing.

His amusement slipped, however, as he thought back to what his friend had said to him earlier in the night. As he had been putting the finishing touches on his outfit, making sure that his swallow-tail coat was tucked and his hat was on the right way – because who could tell which way those stupid things went? – Black*Star had swaggered up to him, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

"So, man, do you think tonight is gonna' be the night?"

"For what?" he asked, tipping his hat just perfectly so it sat over one of his eyes, the other glaring at the mirror with a bright red shine.

Black*Star coughed, and Soul actually turned to face him. The ninja, despite his bold approach, was acting weird. "Well, I mean . . . will tonight be the night where we finally –"

"Dude, what the Hell are you on about now?"

"Ah – nothing! Never mind, can't wait to see the Godly set up tonight!" the usually boisterous meister said, pushing away and laughing off-key before leaving the room, with Soul only watching with his eyebrows raised.

Well, he knew what his loud-mouth 'bro' had been talking about. For a while, Black*Star had been skirting around the edges of his feelings for his weapon, and he knew Soul had been doing the same. Not for Tsubaki, of course, but for his own partner . . .

"Well, are you not very festively dressed for this fine evening?"

Soul's head snapped up and he looked over the balcony to the pavement below. Standing on the cobblestones, his dark hair blowing back in the breeze and his hands poised neatly over his mahogany cane, was a man. He was regarding the Death Scythe with a cool amusement, his head cocked slightly to the side. Soul couldn't quite figure out if the guy was dressed in a Halloween costume, or whether he was just some weird dude walking around at night, but something about him was definitely creepy.

Still, he bowed his head, even tipping his hat with his right hand in a gesture fitting for his costume. Why not? He may as well join in the festive mood, right? "Thanks. Are you out for the holiday cheer or just the night air?"

"Neither," said the man cryptically, running his hands over the head of the cane slowly, a light and handsome smile on his face. "I'm merely sating my hunger."

Creepy, Soul affirmed, feeling goosebumps prickle under his red coat. "That's . . . great. So what are you doing out in these lots? There's a party going on here, as you can probably see, and there are a heap of people on the other side of the building." He was leaning on one of the rails facing the alleyways, rather than the street. "There'd be better light to go find a restaurant or something."

"But I don't want anything a mere restaurant could provide."

"Uh – what?"

The strange man's smile grew, until it was almost a grin. "It's amusing, is it not? Death is tightly reigning over you on all nights but the one rightfully belonging to him. And it is on this night that he may have wished to have been more guarded."

Soul took an involuntary step back. Something about this smile and predatory gaze was giving him a feeling akin to that of a tainted soul on a mission – he should be working out how to kill this thing. So, he made his mind up quickly; he'd retreat and leave this weirdo to whatever it was he wanted to do on his Thursday night. "Well, thanks for that bit of philosophy, I'll be sure to let Kid – uh, I mean, Shinigami-sama, know and I'll check he gets the message. Nice talking to you, man, but I gotta' get back to the party . . ."

"'Kid'? Surely that doesn't – has Shinigami-sama fallen?"

Soul paused in his backing away. "Where have you been, man? Shinigami's son has been in rule for the past year and a half; since the sealing of Kishin Asura on the moon, remember?"

The man paused, stroking the cane once more. "Interesting. So Death fell, much like the mortals he loved to govern. Tell me, are you well-acquainted with this new ruler? You speak as if you know him personally."

Do you not read the papers? Soul thought irately. He'd had to do enough interviews with the damn Death God regarding Asura's fall and becoming the Last Death Scythe. Was this guy living under a rock in his spare time? " . . . Yeah, we're friends. We were kids together, starting a couple years back - !"

"Ah, that will do finely then," said the stranger, a hand cupping his chin in thought. "Should I not be able to extract my revenge on Death, I shall have to settle for his fragment son. It would be tempting, devouring the souls of all of these adolescents, but with such forces prepared as Shibusen can surely offer, that may be unwise. However, should I choose to take a dear friend of the ruler, I can only imagine how I may seek my revenge. Yes, this will be much more fun – much more enjoyable! Instead of the feast, let us have the show! If you want a party, Death," he called to the great house now, "I'll give you one."

Through all this, Soul had been getting more and more convinced that this was not an enjoyer of Halloween, but something much more serious. Without consciously doing so, he summoned a sickle blade from his right arm, morphing it just enough to avoid tearing his coat. The man's eyes narrowed as he saw the weapon brandished at him.

"You think to threaten me, boy?"

"You think you're gonna' capture me or some shit, weirdo? I don't know what kind of crap you're spouting about taking revenge, but if I got you right, you want to kidnap me, yeah? Well, sorry, but I'm not cool with that."

He was preparing to fight even as the cane began to glow green and the man's eyes shone. It was like the light hit him as a physical blow would, and he stumbled back unwittingly. Only one thought crossed his mind – What the Hell? – and then he was falling, flying, down, down, down, and the man smiled again as he, as everything went black.

This is Halloween.
Everybody scream.

"Everybody's Waiting For The Next Surprise Which Is Actually That This Is A Two Part Story And It's Huge."

Yes, there will be a second half to this. Have no fear.