Chapter 29: Halloween Square
Chapter 29: Halloween Square
Caleb stepped out of the bathroom with a stiff face. The stench of piss and mold still clung to his nose, making his stomach churn like he was about to puke.Mike, lounging on his busted chair, let out a chuckle the moment he saw him.
"How was it? Stinks like hell, right? Hahaha! Even I can’t stay in there too long without gagging."
Caleb scrubbed his nose roughly, forcing down the nausea. "Tch..."
In the corner, Anderson and Billy were already sprawled out, wasted—mouths smeared with pizza sauce, reeking of cheap booze.
"Caleb," Mike called suddenly.
Caleb’s brow lifted. "Hm? Why you calling me Caleb this time? Not Peter?"
Mike leaned in, finger pressed to his lips, voice low and cold.
"Shhh... let’s go."
He got up, heading for the rickety staircase that led upstairs. Caleb followed without a word, eyes sharp. The second floor was even filthier—thick dust on the walls, cobwebs dangling, the musty stench stabbing his nose. In the middle sat a single broken chair, wooden planks scattered around.
They sat facing each other. Mike lit another cigarette, smoke curling into the heavy air. His crooked smile lingered as he stared at Caleb.
"You’re young... and clearly not stupid. You get it, right? Anderson and Billy? They’re just idiots. They can leak your identity in a flash."
Caleb let out a short, cold chuckle. At least he got a brain cell, he thought. But he kept quiet, letting Mike ramble.
"Back then," Mike’s voice dropped heavier, "my youth was ruined. All because of lies... from my buddy’s girl. That bitch, with her innocent little face, made everyone believe I was the bastard. She’s the one who played dirty."
He exhaled a long stream of smoke, eyes glassy but burning with hate.
"Women like that... with their sweet, innocent masks. They can destroy a man’s future in a heartbeat. They’re disgusting. That’s why I destroy them first—before they can destroy us."
Caleb stiffened, his body tense. This guy’s insane... a psycho, he thought, but kept his stare blank.
Mike gave a short laugh, voice dripping venom.
"You know how many people fall for that innocent face? Hypocrites, every one of them. That’s why I punish them. I crush their pride! HAHAHAHA!"
His laugh rasped through the dusty upstairs, rattling the walls. Caleb just stared, mind sharpening into one clear thought: This guy can’t be allowed to live.
Mike’s laughter faded. He sighed long, smoke spilling with a bitter smile.
"You know, Caleb... people always get me wrong. They think I’m a monster. But really..." he tapped his chest, "I’m a good man. I only punish hypocritical women. The ones who ruin men’s lives with their fake innocent faces. I just... balance the scales."
Caleb’s eyes narrowed, silent. Mike kept going, voice sinking deeper, darker.
"All my hard work back then—wasted. I worked my ass off, broke my back, and still got treated like trash... because of one girl’s lies. Friends left, chances disappeared. You know what that feels like? To give it everything, but the world only sees her sweet little act? Everyone believed her. Not me."
His fists clenched, head dropping. His eyes shimmered, whether from smoke or old grief, it didn’t matter.
"People... they just want to see you fall. And women like her? They make it possible—with that fake, innocent look."
Caleb said nothing, but inside he thought, This guy’s trauma runs deep. Not just a psycho—he’s a prisoner of his past.
Mike’s gaze locked onto him again, sharp yet almost sympathetic.
"You’re young, you understand. Young men are weak. You see it, don’t you? So many crushed by love, good men broken, lives wrecked. I understand them... because I was one of them. But in the end, they’re all the same—they won’t punish the women. So I do it for them."
That line made Caleb frown. For a second, he almost saw Mike like some bitter old teacher. But then his mind snapped back.
No. He’s not a teacher. He’s just an old parasite, starving for validation. Every word he spits is just him convincing himself he’s right. That he still matters.
Caleb’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as he stared back at him.
In the end, he’s the same as every other pathetic old man I’ve met. The only difference? He’s far more dangerous—because he actually believes his own delusion.
Time slipped by unnoticed. The sun was sinking, orange light bleeding through the cracks in the busted boards upstairs. Cigarette smoke had thickened, rolling in waves until the air itself felt toxic.
Mike was still going. His voice raspier now, but his fire never fading.
"...you know, Caleb... out there, everyone only cares about masks. You work yourself to the bone, break yourself for them, and they still grind your head into the dirt. I’ve seen it over and over. Hah... they call me crazy, but really, I’m the only one awake to the truth."
Caleb leaned back on the fragile chair, his face blank. Inside, though, his mind was boiling.
Hours. Hours of listening to this old fool rant...
Mike hacked out a harsh cough, his throat wrecked. But after a swig of stale beer, he kept going, eyes red from exhaustion and smoke.
"You get it, don’t you, kid? That’s why I say you’re smart. You know the world’s rotten. Anderson, Billy—they’re just pawns. But you..." he jabbed a trembling finger at Caleb, "...you can be more. You understand... Yes, you do, little boy."
Caleb’s fists tightened in his lap. His jaw locked, holding back the disgust.
Little boy? Fucking bastard. How much longer do I have to sit here pretending to be some dumb student, nodding at this drunk shaman’s bullshit?
His eyes flicked to the window—sky now a deep, burning orange. Evening had truly arrived.
Mike finally went quiet for a moment, throat dry, his voice sandpaper-rough. He rubbed at his bloodshot eyes, then downed the last of the cheap beer. A thin smile crept across his face.
"Enough stories. Hhh..." he let out a long sigh, patting his knee. "Time to get ready."
Caleb lifted his head, eyes narrowing. "Ready... for what?"
Mike pushed himself up, steps unsteady but filled with that twisted confidence. From between the broken boards, the orange glow of evening had already faded into gray—the night creeping in.
"We’re going out... just wait till it’s fully dark."
He glanced at Caleb, grin wide but eyes cold, glinting with madness.
"Halloween tonight... little kids in their cute costumes will be out. Hhhahaha... the world’s throwing us a free party."
Caleb stared back, face unreadable—but inside, his blood boiled.
This bastard can’t even wait anymore...
Mike grabbed his ragged jacket, shuffling toward the stairs.
"C’mon, little boy. Time you saw the world through my eyes."
Caleb rose slowly, lips curling into a thin smile.
Yeah... time I showed you the world through mine, too.
Night had fully fallen. The streets were glowing with neon and Halloween decorations. Torkside Square was overflowing—kids in ghost costumes running wild, teens shouting and laughing, adults snapping photos under rows of orange lanterns. Street music clashed with vendors barking out deals, all of it a chaotic mess of sound.
Mike led the way, steps steady despite his frail body. Caleb followed close behind, Anderson and Billy stumbling after them, still reeking of booze.
"Hhh... look, look at that! Her tits are... holy shit, huge, hahaha!" Anderson slurred, pointing at a teen girl in a fairy outfit, his eyes barely open. Billy burst into drunken laughter, nearly tipping over.
Caleb glanced their way, then forced himself to ignore it. Trash.
Mike, though—he was different. No sloppy giggles, no drunk wobble. His eyes cut sharp through the crowd, scanning slowly, measuring, like a predator weighing its prey.
Caleb leaned closer. "You’re just... watching?"
Mike stopped for a beat, then flashed a vicious grin.
"Of course. The most innocent faces... are the ones most worth punishing with my dick."
The words made Caleb’s gut twist. A wave of disgust surged in his chest, stronger even than the reek of that filthy bathroom. He stared hard at Mike, like he could chew those words up and spit them right back at him.
This man was pure rot. Not just trauma. Not just revenge. He enjoyed the ruin of others, convinced it was his life’s mission.
Caleb clenched his fist inside his jacket pocket, face flat as stone. But inside, his mind was barking cold and clear:
I think this is the perfect time... to finish the quest and finish these motherfuckers.
Neon lights flickered overhead. The crowd grew louder, denser, swallowing everything in chaos.