#Spooky

“This is so cliche,” Rebecca said as she panned the flashlight across the ground.  “I mean, a cemetery at midnight?”

“Come on, Bex,” Jon cajoled.  “It will be perfect for your Insta.  We find some cool graves, pose you out.  Hashtag spooky, hashtag I want candy.  Your followers will love it!”

Rebecca could only agree.  Jon was the genius that brought her to where she was on social media.  If it wasn’t for him, she would still be posting basic makeup tutorial vids from her bedroom rather than getting free stuff in the mail from companies wanting her to hock their stuff.  And all the likes and followers!  There were days she could spend hours just scrolling through the comments basking in the attention.

She pulled out her phone, set the filter to cute zombie, and snapped a silly pic of her sticking her tongue out and giving the peace sign.  “I’m coming to do your nails, Barbara! #NightOfTheLivingDeadGirl,” she posted.

Jon just shook his head at her.  “Follow me this way.  I saw a really creepy mausoleum when I was scouting the other day.”  He was lugging a backpack crammed with accessories, and she had her makeup tote and a Maglite.

This shoot was going to be the one that put her over the top and took her from getting free stuff to actually getting paid.  With Halloween only a week away, they were planning a series of looks to post leading up to the big day that would tease a big reveal that would be utterly over the top and garner the followers that would make her a celebrity.

“Let’s start here,” Jon said and set his pack on the ground.  He was at a small grave with a gravestone carved with a lamb.

“Thomas Robert, 1982-1983,” Rebecca read.  “This poor baby was only about a year old!”

“Perfect for our teddy bear picnic,”Jon replied, spreading out a checkered quilt, a tiny tea set, and a teddy bear.

Rebecca just shook her head and sat on the quilt opposite the teddy bear and started fixing her makeup as Jon prepared his camera and lighting.  She was dressed in a cutesy-goth dress with a short fluffy skirt to start, and the plan was that she would change into something spookier and grittier later.  She arranged her hair around her Arianna Grande-esque hair bow, and she was ready for her closeup, Mr. Demille.

Jon looked through his viewfinder, leaned forward to adjust the bear and then pulled Rebecca’s to drape over her shoulder.  “Now, sit on your hip and stretch your legs in that direction,” he pointed.

Rebecca did as was ordered and mimed drinking tea and toasting to the teddy bear.  “Oh, Mr. Bear, you are such a great host!” she said playfully.  “We should do this more often, but maybe next time you can pick a better picnic spot.”

The bear listed to its left and tipped over.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it.  This is a great spot,” she joked as she sat the bear back up and straightened him into position.

She leaned back and repositioned herself, but when she reached for her mini teacup for another imaginary sip, it wasn’t where she thought she had left it.  “Did you do anything with my cup?” she asked Jon.  She scanned around the blanket to see if her fluffy skirt might have knocked it to the side.

“No, I’ve been over here adjusting the camera while I waited on you to fix the stupid bear.”

Rebecca finally found the cup sitting atop the gravestone.  She felt an unease because she didn’t think she would have left the cup there, but who else could have?

“I think I’ve got enough of this setup, anyway,” Jon said.  “Let’s go to the mausoleum, and you can change there.”

Rebecca helped pack the tea party paraphernalia, and they continued to this mausoleum that Jon had been so excited about.

When they approached, Rebecca could see why.  It was solid stone and almost as big as a one-car garage.

“It’s a family crypt,” Jon explained.

The stone was carved with pillars and ivy, and the family name Winters graced the arch over the wrought iron spirals of the door.

“Winters.  Are they any relation?” Rebecca asked Jon, alluding to his own surname of Winters.

“I don’t know.  They might be cousins or something.  The name is part of what drew me to this one.”

He started unpacking his bag again, while Rebecca removed the bow from her hair for her next look.

“When I was looking around the other day, I found that the door doesn’t quite latch all the way, so we can actually go in.  I figured it would be perfect for your costume changes.”

Rebecca took the next outfit from him and jiggled the wrought iron.  Sure enough, the catch unhooked, and she was able to enter.  The mausoleum may have been the size of a garage, but the area inside was only a little wider than a hallway.  Brass plaques and bud vases lined the walls, marking the resting places of this family.  This crypt defied Rebecca’s movie-fed preconception of what it should look like.  Despite all of the markers showing dates over 40 years old, there were no cobwebs or skeletons out in the open, not even a bat hanging from the ceiling.

“Come on!  We’re burning moonlight here!” Jon shouted from the doorway.

“Don’t get your cape in a twist,” Rebecca responded with some Halloween humor.  She performed her quick change, switching from the cutesy-goth to something more Morticia Addams or Elvira.  She switched from a pink to a blood-red lipstick, dusted her eyes with a little purple shadow, smoothed down her hair, and stepped back into the night.

“You look great,” Jon said, handing her a candelabra.  “Took you long enough.  Now, hold this up like you’re using it to peer inside.”

“Did you do any cleaning in there when you were here the other day?” she asked between pictures.

“No, why would I do that?”

“It was just cleaner than I thought it should be and thought you might have straightened up for the shoot.”  She repositioned herself to find different angles, lifting her chest, turning her torso so the camera would catch her curves.

“We’re going for the scary vibe.  If anything, I would have added more spiderwebs.  Turn more this way and push up your boobs to give the goblins what they want.”

She did as he ordered and added a scared “Oh!” face to top it off.

“Perfect!” Jon said.  “One more, and then we go inside for the show stopper.”

Rebecca stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes as Jon snapped one last pic.

“You just couldn’t resist; could you?” he laughed, lowering his camera and preparing to switch the lens.

“I couldn’t,” she agreed.  “It’s so creepy around here; someone has to do something to lighten the mood.”

She turned to go back into the mausoleum to get ready for the next set of pictures, and she felt a pinch on her butt.  She whipped back around, but Jon was still ten feet away.  “Did you just throw something at my butt?”

“I think you’re losing it.  My hands are full with my thousand dollar camera.  Why would I risk dropping it to throw something at you?”

“Must’ve been a bug,” she said as she turned back, but she rubbed where her posterior had just been tweaked.

She reentered the mausoleum and dropped her dress for her final wardrobe change.  The last costume was an artfully tattered little black dress with a pearl necklace, and she had planned to muss her hair and zombify her makeup.

“Help me light some candles,” Jon said from behind her, and she startled, dropping the dress.

“Jesus!  Don’t sneak up on a practically naked woman,” Rebecca scolded, bending to pick up the dress.

“Oh, I’ve seen it all before.  Remember your poolside photoshoot this summer?”  Jon chuckled.

“That was fun,” she said and slid the dress over her head.  She turned for him to zip the back.  “Are you sure you’re gay?” she asked playfully.  She turned back around, and he handed her some tealight candles and a lighter ignoring the question.

“Place those on the floor under each plaque.  It should give the place a bit of a glow and show in the background.”

Rebecca did as she was told while Jon pulled more stuff from his backpack and prepared the scene.

“So I was thinking I could use some gray shadow to make my cheeks look sunken,” she said over her shoulder as she placed her last candle.

“That might be nice, but I was thinking of something else first,” Jon said, standing from his kneeling position where he had been drawing a pentagram on the floor with chalk.

“Devil worshiping?” Rebecca asked.  “I hope you brought something to clean that up when we’re done.”

“Don’t worry.  I brought plenty of supplies.”  He pulled a long knife from his pack, and its mirror finish reflected the candles.  “Come right over here and stand on the pentagram.”

“What are you thinking?  Do you want me to kneel like I’m praying or stand with my legs apart and hands raised?” she asked as she approached.

“Let’s start with you laying on your back.”

“Okay…” she trailed off.  She wasn’t so sure about the angles on this one, but she trusted Jon.  He hadn’t steered her wrong yet.  She laid on the floor across the middle of the pentagram.  “You want my eyes closed and hands clasped like I’m dead?” she asked.

“Nah, I’m thinking something a little more casual,” he squatted down and adjusted her hair, fanning it around her shoulders and brushing some from her forehead.  “Just relax and lay your arms by your sides.”

She fidgeted on the cold floor debating between splaying her fingers and loosely clenching her fists.

Jon was holding the knife again.  “Did you want me to hold that?” she asked.

“Oh, no.  This is for me,” he laughed.  He playfully trailed the knife tip down her breast bone.

“Are you finally going to join me in one of these pictures?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he said, plunging the knife into her chest.

Her mouth returned to the surprised O, and her eyes moved helplessly from left to right.  Previously unseen ghosts now lined the walls: a child in short pants, an older man in a gray suit, a woman with Farrah Fawcett hair.

“I’d like you to meet my family,” Jon grinned.

Her mouth gulped like a fish.  Her chest was on fire, and blood oozed around the knife, the main flow held back by the hilt.

“You’re going to be staying with them from now on, but don’t worry.  I’ve got enough pictures saved up to keep your Insta going for a while.  No one will even know you’re gone!”

Jon held up his camera for a final shot.  “This one is for my own personal collection, and by the way, I’m not gay.  I just have a good sense of style.”