The Halloween Killer

105

During a blackout at Huggy’s Halloween party, Starsky tells the story of the Halloween Killer.

Posted on AO3 under Ugerchucker

 

There was a witch at the bar chatting to wolfman, a mummy standing behind Elton John in line for the bathroom and a zombie losing a game of pool to David Bowie. Scattered around the rest of The Pits were various Draculas, skeletons, mad scientists, the complete Charlie’s Angels trio and multiple Elvis’ at every stage of his career.

The venue itself was decked out in orange and black streamers hanging from the ceiling, paper ghost cut-outs stuck to the walls and an almost life sized statue of Frankenstein’s monster standing by the door, ready to welcome people in broken English as they passed the threshold. There were also pumpkin shaped candles on the tables, bat lights strung across the bar and the jukebox was playing The Monster Mash

By the dart board Starsky stood next to Frank-n-furter from the Rocky Horror Picture show, who was trying to convince the detective that the movie was going to be a classic one day. Starsky had seen the movie when it first came out and still had no idea what it was about. He listened patiently and wished Hutch would hurry up with his drink.

The two of them had gone dressed as Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson. There had been a small argument over who should be Holmes, but ultimately Hutch conceded, not only because he had a moustache, but because this was Starsky’s first big party since being gunned down in the parking lot back in May. Starsky was due back on active duty in a couple of weeks and Huggy insisted they come to his Halloween party to celebrate. Starsky had been more than happy to accept, badly needing a fun night out after 5 months of pain, sweat, tears and too many set backs.

Dr. Frank-n-furter finally left Starsky alone when he was pulled away by a lady in a sparkly top hat, which was perfect timing as Hutch arrived back with their drinks at the same time. He handed Starsky a Bloody Mary while he sipped at his glass of green coloured punch.

“Next year, I think you should wear something like that.” Hutch said, pointing at the Dr as he twirled his girl on the dance floor.

“Only if you go as Rocky.” Starsky said, slyly.

“The boxer?”

Starsky shook his head and smiled. “Never mind.”

Hutch took another sip of his punch as he looked around. “Not a bad turn out.”

“Yeah, Huggy must have called everyone in his phone book.”

“And then bribed them with free food.”

“Have you tried any of it yet?” Starsky asked. “I can highly recommend the severed finger sandwiches and the devilled egg eyeballs.”

“I tried some of the grave dirt, but I was put off when I found a bone.”

“Bones are good for you.” Huggy cut in as he joined them. “Full of calcium” He was dressed in a brown trench coat, black rollneck and wearing a fake moustache.

“Hey Huggy,” Starsky greeted. “I thought you’d given up the private detective business.”

“You’re damn right, but that don’t mean I can’t pay tribute to one of the best, you dig?”

“We can dig it.” Hutch said

“Good, now I’d like to know why you two turkey’s aren’t digging on my games.” Huggy asked, gesturing to a corner of the room where a zombie cheerleader and two Elvis’ were huddled around a giant wooden tub.

“Not really in the mood to bob for apples.” Starsky said finally taking a sip from his Bloody Mary. It briefly made him go cross eyed.

“You know Starsky and fruit, Hug” Hutch teased. “Needs to be slathered in caramel”

“Hey, I’ve eaten so much fruit over the last 5 months it’s a wonder I don’t sweat juice.”

“Well, how about a game of darts.” Huggy suggested. “With a Halloween twist.”

“What’s the twist?” Starsky asked. “Do you throw them at a living person?”

“Nothing so macabre.” Huggy pointed behind them. “Take a look.”

They turned around to see the numbers on the dart board had been replaced with pictures of classic horror movie monsters and villains. The lowest score was now Casper the friendly ghost, while the highest was Dracula. The bullseye was just the year 1979.

“Why is this year the bullseye?” Starsky asked.

“Because it’s been a bad year, my brother and I want to stab it as many times as possible.”

Hutch raised his glass to that.

“I’ll have a go.” Starsky took the three darts offered to him by Huggy and took up position behind the line. He popped his pipe in his mouth and took aim. Hutch wished he’d brought a camera.

Starsky hesitated. “These are normal darts, right?”

“Hey, Shaft ain’t no cheat.”

Satisfied, Starsky took aim again and threw all three darts one after another. He scored a single mummy, double wolf-man and triple Norman Bates.

“105, not bad, Holmes.” Hutch said, trying not to sound patronising.

Starsky snorted and took his dart out of the board. “Good luck, Watson.”

Hutch took the darts and carefully aimed the first one at the desired target: the bullseye.

At the exact moment Hutch threw the dart, all the electric lights in The Pits went out. The sudden blackness caused a couple of people to scream. The only illumination came from the candles on each table. There was a collective grown, followed by a couple of creepy, evil laughs.

“Very thematic, Hug.” Hutch said as he approached the board. “But how am I meant to play in the dark.

“I had nothing to do with this.” Huggy made his way over to the bar “It’s nothing to worry about folks. I’ve got more candles.” While Huggy was feeling around under the bar for more candles, Starsky and Hutch went over to the front door to take a look outside.

The whole block was dark. The moon was doing a poor job lighting the streets, but there were already people standing in door ways with flashlights. All the cars had stopped and some were honking their horns.

“A legit blackout?” Starsky wondered sceptically.

“So it seems. The wiring on this block goes back before the war.” Hutch looked around the bar. People were stumbling around, either trying to find their friends or where they’d put their drink.

“Seems too convenient” Starsky said, keeping his eyes on the streets.

“A lot of parties on tonight.” Hutch shrugged. “The grid can’t handle all the juice.”

“Maybe or…”

“Oh come on, Starsk, not again.”

“What do you mean?” Starsky finally looked at Hutch.

“Ever since you got out of the hospital you’ve been looking for something to investigate. You thought the mailman was stealing your motoring magazine, but it turned out your subscription had just expired.”

“That mailman’s up to something, he’s got these little beady eyes…”

“And then there was Mrs Baker in the house opposite. You thought she’d killed her husband.”

“She was throwing his things in the garbage at 12am” Starsky said in his defence. “That’s suspicious.”

“He’d just left her for a 20 year old barmaid, she was embarrassed.”

“So she wants you to think.”

Hutch rolled his eyes.

“But I was right about the nurse who was stealing sponges.” Starsky said definitely.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, but she was hardly trying to hide it.”

Starsky looked back at the dark streets. A small group of people had gathered in the road. One of them had a guitar, while the others held candles and they soon broke out into a rendition of Bad Moon Rising.

“I have a hunch” Starsky said, closing the door. “I know I’ve been out of the game for a while, but I still got instincts. Will you back me up on this, please?”

Hutch sighed. He looked around the very dimly lit bar. Huggy had managed to find three candles and after lighting them, spread them out over the bar. He had also found a flash light. No one was trying to leave, but a few looked bored and others were still trying to find their way around.

“What do you need me to do?” Hutch asked, resigned.

“Keep your eyes peeled, my dear fellow” Starsky said in a barely passable English accent and raised his magnifying glass up to his eye. “You’ll know when you see it.

Hutch nodded.

“Okay everyone!” Starsky shouted so the whole bar would hear. “There’s a blackout over the whole street and for your own safety, please don’t leave the premises. We don’t want any accidents or Huggy might have some real ghost haunting the place next year.” He walked over to the bar and took the flashlight from Huggy. “I’m sure it’ll all get sorted shortly, but in the mean time, it looks like we have the perfect atmosphere for a nice scary story.” Moving behind the bar, Starsky put the flashlight up to his face and smiled.

“Who would like to hear the tale of the Halloween killer?”

There were some affirmative murmurs from the crowd and one guy even put his hand up.

“Well, gather round closer, and we’ll begin.” A few people shuffled nearer the bar. Starsky looked around at all the party people he could see in the dim light. He had the attention of most of the patrons, apart from a zombie who was making out with Cleopatra in the corner.

“Nobody knows the real identity of the Halloween killer. Some say he started life as a farmer who went mad after a bad harvest, dressed himself up as a scarecrow and set himself on fire along with all his crops. Other think he’s the reanimated remains of an Old West preacher who saw trick or treaters has pegan heathens who needed to be punished. Regardless of his origins, you could always find him every Oct 31st stalking the streets of an unsuspecting American town.” Starsky leaned over the bar, getting close to the face of a young Frankenstein’s bride. “Every year he’d start at the very edge of town and pick a sweet, young innocent family, who lived at the end of their block. He’d ring the bell, his face covered by a sack cloth with black painted eyes and a big toothy grin. When they answered the door, ready to drop candy into his sack, they’d looked look into the stained, cloth covered eyes and freeze. Unable to move. Unable to fight as they were dragged back into their homes and killed” Starsky paused for moment while he scanned the crowd for his partner. Hutch was standing beside the dart board again, but his attention was not on the story but the crowd. His eyes roaming from one to the other.

“But this spirit did not kill with any traditional weapons. Instead he sucked out your very soul and drained your body of every drop of life. All it took was one deep look at his true face.” Starsky lifted the skeleton mask of a guy on his left who jumped back in freight.

“The Halloween killer would then move on, continue his killing where the festivities were at their fullest. He’d seek out a party; the loudest, most packed party he could find and he’d glide through the sea of dancing fools looking for his next victim.”

Staraky moved around to the front of the bar and slowly moved through the engrossed audience. He looked over at Hutch who nodded his head towards someone in the crowd.

“He’d pick someone, maybe someone who was alone or so elaborately dressed that they were hard to miss, but he’d fix his gaze on that person and slowly make his way over.”

Hutch moved around to the back of the crowd and then slowly made his way into the middle.

Starsky fixed his eyes onto a young man dressed as Flash Gordon. “He’d ignore all others as he went, only caring about his prize. He took his time, enjoying the build up, the dizzying anticipation and then as he closed in, he’d stop, raise his hand and…

Starsky grabbed the hand of the man standing next to Flash Gordon. He was dressed as a monk with a long dark robe and was so surprised that he dropped the wallet he was holding.

“And he caught the thief who’d been pick pocketing the party.” Hutch said, picking up the wallet.

“What…no…” the man stuttered.“Hey, that’s mine.”

The thief tried to grab the wallet back, but Hutch held it out of reach. He looked inside and pulled out a driving license.

“So you’re Francis Hopper?” Hutch asked in a loud voice.

“No, I am!” A man dressed as Elvis in his later years came forwards. After Hutch asked him some questions about the wallet, he returned it to his rightful owner.

“Let’s see what else you’ve picked up.” Starsky said as he opened up the man’s robes, while Hutch held his arms. The inside of the robes had deep pockets, in which there were many watches, wallets and jewellery. There was a sudden uproar as everyone came forwards, trying to claim their missing items, but Starsky and Hutch held them back, saying it was all evidence and they’d have to claim it back at the police station.

“But more importantly, does anyone have any handcuffs?” Starsky asked. Over the protests, a woman dressed as a dominatrix (supposable) handed Starsky a set. Hutch dragged the man over to a support beam and handcuffed the thief around it.

“Until the power comes back on, you get to enjoy the rest of the party.” Hutch said.

“You can’t do this, you’re not real detectives?” The thief moaned as he fruitlessly tried to wriggle out of the cuffs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear chap” Starsky said as he produced his very real badge (After taking the fake Sherlock Holmes ID card out) and smiled.

The monk remained silent.

“If you’re good I’ll get you an eyeball.” Hutch slapped the monk playfully on the cheek before he and Starsky walked over to the bar. Huggy poured them both a congratulatory drink.

“Good to know my hunches can still yield results.” Starsky said, rather smugly.

“We can’t prove he was responsible for the blackout” Hutch reminded. “He might have just decided to take advantage of the situation. Huggy’s regular clientele aren’t usually the most trustworthy.”

“Nice to know things have already gone back to normal.” Starsky sulked. “You still can’t give me any credit.”

“You caught a thief” Hutch said bluntly. “There’s your credit.”

“Thank you” Starsky nodded, very pleased with himself. Then something dawned on him. “First one in months.”

“Yeah, I suppose it was.” Hutch smiled and gave his lover’s hand a comforting squeeze. “Got a lot of catching up to do.”

Starsky looked over at the thief, who’d given up his struggles and was sitting on the floor.

“Do you think we’re ready?” Starsky asked.

Hutch thought back over the way they’d worked together to catch the thief and smiled.

“Yeah, I think we are”

“Good, because I already know our next case.” Starsky downed his cup of punch. “The Halloween killer is still on the loose.”

“Starsk, you just made that up.”

Starsky drew his deerstalker hat down low and got very close to Hutch’s face, looking deep into his eyes. “Did I?”