She tried to warn them.
What They Want
“Are you serious? They’re pure fantasy! They don’t exist!” scoffed the dark, greasy-haired man at a table for four.
“Yeah, none of them are real!” piped up a second man in a pork pie hat.
“Kid’s stuff!” huffed the chubby third man, his face reddening.
The fourth person, a redheaded woman with wild hair, leaned over the table and stared at them.
“That’s just what they want us to think.”
When the men scowled at her, she drained her mug of beer.
“Nobody gets it! They’ve organized and now they’re coming for us!”
Her companions started to laugh fit to choke. She glared and threw down the money for her drink. Pushing her chair back abruptly, she stood, grabbed her boa and beaded purse and stalked out of the bar.
Muttering to herself at first, she soon began ranting.
“So you did it after all? You told them about HMU!” said a chorus of sinister voices.
She stopped and took a stand against the shadowy crowd that was emerging in front of her.
“So what if I did? They need to know, so they can prepare themselves for the likes of you and yours!”
“Halloween Monsters United, doesn’t want them prepared! We want them quivering and weak,” said a trio of vampires. Werewolves growled agreement and stepped up as well.
“We warned you about doing what you did, now you pay!” said a deep voice from behind her.
She whirled, but Frankenstein grabbed her by the neck and snapped it. The monsters briefly moved in. When they were finished, they melted back into the night.
Hours later, the doubting men from the bar found her, scratched and bloodied with a broken neck.
“Serves her right for talking such nonsense!” they agreed.
Then they heard an ominous noise.