Everyone lives, everyone dies. That's just the life cycle we all follow. Everyone is told they have a purpose in life, right? Some people think that's just a load of phooey, but most believe it to be true.

Unfortunately, not everyone's purpose is in this world, but in another one. One they find, only after they've passed on. That's exactly what happened to the several dozen people I'm about to address. They have next to nothing in common, but one thing binds them eternally, and made them what they are.

They all died on Halloween. That's how they were all brought together, and that's how they all came to be known as what they are today.

Shawn Cassidy was a respectable teenager, if somewhat wild at times. He had a love of storms that no one could completely understand, even him. He'd sit on the stone wall beside his house, jacket or shirt flapping in the oncoming wind as he stared up at the dark sky. He was intelligent enough to go inside when the sky brightened and rumbled, but he'd stay out until then. Despite this, he was the heartthrob of many a girl. All the fathers wanted him to marry their daughters, all the mothers wanted him as sons, all the girls swooned as he walked by. But life wasn't all fun and games for him, as the entire town found out Halloween night, 1887.

Ren Fujisaki was anything but normal. His eyes were the deepest brown anyone could ever fathom, his hair darker then a raven's feather. His skin was porcelain white, his height short for a man of nearly seventeen. His parents thought he must have been switched at birth, as neither of them had dark hair or eyes, or skin nearly as white as that. He seemed to live in his imagination, and instead of studying or playing ball like the other kids did, he'd sit up in his room with a book of fantasies or myths open on his lap. He'd close his eyes after reading a story, and imagine himself within it with a smile. His parents insisted it would get him killed one day. It's amazing how right parents are, for he was found sprawled across a road on the night of goblins and ghosts, 1943.

Methane Zeroniz was a dark, lonely boy of 18. Ridiculed not only by his name, but by his looks and problems, too. He couldn't help that help it that he was an albino; he couldn't help it that he couldn't eat or sleep; he couldn't help it that he had to be hooked up to machines to keep himself alive. Teasing helped little, and it finally drove him over the edge. His body was found floating in the sea fifteen minutes before the witching hour on Halloween night, 1999.

Dolly Duchensend was a normal enough geek. Her glasses covered half her face, often having to be taped together because someone stepped on them, or broke them in half for her. Her braces cast light everywhere, making her only that more self-conscious about her overbite. Her height was another issue, too; standing at only 5'1", she stood little chance against even the shortest, weakest lacrosse player. No one knew of her inner anguish and dreams, until she was found with the back of her shirt tied to a light fixture in the girls bathroom with a note pinned to her skirt telling of how she'd always dreamed about the little brick house on the small plot of land by the highway; of her dreams of children and love. None of them were ever found, and she was laid to rest on her little plot of land, October 31st, 1978.

Leon Wong, or Leo-Leo, as most people knew him, was as plain as day. He helped his mother tend to their farm in southeast China, which gave him a tan and red cheeks like no other. His dark hair hung in wild, unwashed clumps about his face. A feud broke out a few miles away between two families that had been rivals since anyone could remember. Leo's crush, a member of one of these families, was caught up in the fighting. Captured by her father's enemies, she was to be shot in the heart unless her father gave up his wife. He refused, and Leo rushed forward to take the shot for her. The bullet hit it's mark and he died in the arms of the young girl twenty minutes later. His death made the families see what they had done, and brought them together. He was buried in luxury beneath the local churches floor at midnight on Halloween, 1839.

Tae-Tae Tao was as young and bright as they came. She was a girl trained in ballet who always dreamed of traveling to France or Russia to be in the ballets there, or even Broadway. Alas, her mother and father, who wanted nothing more then the happiness of their daughter, were penniless. But they always smiled and said 'we'll get you there if it's the last thing we ever do'. And indeed, it was. Mummy and Papa Tao fell fatally ill, but before they died, Papa Tao slipped a small envelope into his daughter's hands, telling her to make it big for them. Inside was just enough money to get her supplies and plane tickets to New York City. She never made it, as her plane ran out of gas and crashed a half an hour before they were set to land. No one survived the Halloween night crash of 1990.

Minx, all she was known as, was as pretty as one could be. She had no family with the exception of her uncle, who was only a few years older then her. By nature a helpful girl, she went off to Germany when she heard about the Nazi's, hoping to help someone there. The man she found seemed respectable at the time, but after a few weeks of constantly being hit, she realized the mistake she made, and planned to leave on Halloween. She never made it past the front door, and what was left of her was found hanging in a closet. RIP, 1935.

Lai Niy was a giant of a man. An honest and hardworking citizen, he never hurt anyone on purpose. However, the man he worked for was selling him behind his back, and Lai, being a bit stupid, did whatever he said. He got paid, and that was all he cared about. He didn't realize it was bad to go into peoples houses and take things from their drawers. But he did realize it was wrong to hurt and kill them. When his boss ordered him to do just that, he refused, and found a gun to his head. The last thing he ever saw was a malicious smile. No one missed Lai Niy, until his corpse was found on Halloween night.

Grid had no real name, which is why he was called that. He was found by a sister of the convent on the street when he was five, and lived in the orphanage she and several other sisters and a preacher ran. He had no memory of who he was, but he knew that he was not happy with the sisters. He wanted to get out, see the world, but he was not allowed to leave the church. He ran away eventually, and was found dead in an alley in China on Halloween night. He was given a poor burial, the only thing marking his grave a single wooden cross with 'Save' carved quickly into it.

Tako Arira was a natural born leader. She could make herself heard in all situations, was naturally persuasive, and just had a kind of presence about her. Despite that, she hid herself behind makeup and hair. You could never meet her in a public place without there being something wrong. Wherever she went, bad luck seemed to follow, so she hid herself from everyone. No one knows how exactly, but on Halloween, the only night she'd come out, she was found hanging in the attic of her house. No note was found, but it wouldn't be since as soon as someone tried to go in, the house caught fire. 1997.

Sarah Marianas was normal. She wasn't depressed, she wasn't goth, and she wasn't punk. Like I said; she was normal. She was neither sad, nor happy about her life. She wasn't angry, either, or calm. She was just…Sarah. No one knows to this day who killed her, or why, but she was found with her throat slit in one of the school showers on Halloween afternoon, 1992.

Alex Hichenson was a flirt to the max. If it had two legs and breasts, it was worthy of flirting. He found himself in a relationship with a homicidal whack job one day, and when he began chatting up a cheerleader, she stabbed him in the chest with her pocketknife. That was at the Halloween dance, 1989.

Bobby Johnson was a bodybuilder. If he couldn't get what he wanted with threats, he'd get it with his muscles. He had plenty of enemies, few rivals, and even fewer friends. Anyone could have killed him if they had a bazooka, but the odd enough thing was…he didn't look shot or stabbed…he looked eaten. In fact, half his head was just that. Bitten through, and if it weren't for all the scars and tattoos, he wouldn't have been able to be recognized. Witnesses say that he walked into an ally on Halloween night…and never walked out. 1996.

Sally Barthezla was a stripper at a bar, a favorite of many of the regulars, a Playboy covergirl, and the mother of a three year old son. Barry was her pride and joy. She'd do anything for him, and it upset her that she couldn't see him as much as she wished. After his third birthday (she'd completely missed it) she stopped showing up for work as often as she used to. She'd come in on the days she was required to, but wouldn't show up at all the rest of the time. One of the regulars, a man of around thirty, began to grow disgruntled. He never could come on the days she was here, and he greatly missed seeing her. After a 'talk' with the bartender, he drunk himself silly and went off to her apartment with a gun in hand. He burst in and began shooting and shouting. Only one bullet hit a target, but not one he wanted. Sally was buried beneath the floorboards of his shed on the night she was killed, Halloween. 1975.

Bobby Faex was a man who loved nothing more then to dress up and go around scaring children on Halloween. A prank went too far one day. He was dressed as a mummy, and after sneaking up behind a group of small children and scaring them to the brink of death, he was walking by an alley when a hand shot out and dragged him in. A few screams, and then, silence. RIP 1994.

Sam and Benji Maddet were twins who lived together and died the same way. Parents dieing at a young age, they were raised on the streets until they were found by a mercenary at 10. He took them in and raised them to be ruthless killers. They crossed the path of the wrong person one day, and they found themselves staring down a loaded gun. They were buried by a reverend who found their bodies in the church graveyard on Halloween. Their headstone reads 'Unknown two. Brother and sister, or lovers caught in the wrong place at the wrong time? We'll never know. May the lord bless their souls.' 1969.

None of these people had real names. They all died on the same day, in the same year, at roughly the same time. They lived, breathed, and died together, as they do to this day. They are known only by what they were first called; Kid, Number 1, Drake, Alecks, Germaine. However, I lie, for they are not truly dead. More lifeless. Their bodies live on in a lab, hooked to computers and used for testing, but their souls have been sucked from their bodies forever. Halloween, 2000.

Bryan Salor was an alcoholic, and some say that's what killed him. But most know that he was found on Halloween stabbed in the back with a stiletto knife. None know who-dun-it, but all that mattered was that he was dead, apparently. No one else he knew was ever harmed. 1985.

Torii LeBlanc was a little princess in every sense of the word. At the age of fifteen, she was still a little brat relying on others to wash, dress, and care for her. She was killed by one of the servants she apparently overworked and underappreciated; shot in the temple on Halloween night, 1958.

How do I know who all these people are? Why, I am the one who brought them all together. I am the one who fetched their souls. I was not the one to choose them, but I brought them all the same. They were marked. Some of them I'd rather never have met, particularly the experiments and dear Methane, but we can't all have our way, can we? No, the world doesn't work that way, and it never will. Sadly.

This is their story as much as mine, so I will step aside and let their bloody pasts shine through on you.

Who am I? Why, my dears, that is of little concern to you, but I shall tell you anyway.

I am the ruler of the undead, of the souls that have unfinished business, and feel they must repent for what they've done. No, I'm not the Devil, or the dark one, or whatever he is called to you humans. No, not even close, but he is a good friend of mine. Quite a nice fellow when not in a foul mood. I'm not Death, or the Grim Reaper or whatever, either. A champion at poker, if I've ever seen one.

I'm the king of the land of the Bit beasts, Jonathan Cavadger, and this is the story of how they came to be.