"Hey guys, Noah here!" the internet personality greets, zeal finally returned as he walks down a cold suburban road. "Great news! The doctor says Grandma is gonna be back on her feet by the end of the week! Maybe your prayers helped after all... Oh, and I never even mentioned where we were headed in all of this. Chicago! That's right, I've been from Massachusetts, to Louisiana, to Illinois all in just two weeks. My legs have went dead so many times I'm surprised I'm not paralyzed for life yet! So half a week in the Midwest, whatever shall I do?..."

He tilts the camera up a bit to show off a green street sign right as he passes under it.

"YOU ARE NOW LEAVING HADDONFIELD"

"Haddonfield...I mean, I'm not gonna do Haddonfield, I meant..." He sighs. "Whatever...Anyways, enough about that, Happy Halloween! I might be too old to Trick-R-Treat but that's not gonna stop me from dressing up and celebrating the most wonderful time of the year! You know you're a real geek when you look forward to Halloween more than you do Christmas! This is actually a really highly requested location so hopefully I'm making a lot of you guys' Halloween with this. But for the few of you who don't know the story, Haddonfield's a small rural town in the outback of Chicago, sisters with Smith's Grove. On the surface, it seems like a perfect little utopia, and for the most part you'd be right, but there's one little stain on its history that the locals try to forget. Mikaela Myers. Exactly 17 years ago today, Mikaela snapped and went on a killing spree in her trick-r-treat costume. How old was she? Ten. Crazy, huh? She's been in Smith Grove's Sanitarium ever since. Her psychologist actually released a book about it recently, 'The Devil's Eyes', I think it's called. I'm not really a reader but I guess I recommend it...Sucks I couldn't celebrate my favorite holiday in my hometown but the locals here are just as cool! Even after the tragedy, Haddonfield still has an awesome Halloween spirit! And speaking of Halloween spirit..."

He zooms the camera out a bit and does a head-to-toe scan of himself as he talks. He's crossdressed as a slutty witch, in a skirted corset with striped stockings and matching arm-warmers, as well as a witch hat and lace-up boots. The outfit is primarily black, with bright orange accents. You just barely catch a shapely silhouette stalking him in the background. Must just be a seasonal lawn ornament.

"I told you I dressed up! Now, I get it, a witch isn't the manliest costume in the world but I had a growth spurt and outgrew all of my old stuff, so I had to use one of my sister's hand-me-downs! But hey! Girls dress up as boys for Halloween all the time and no one bats an eye, so if you make fun of me, you're sexist! Anyways, I was planning on just doing a video on the scene of the tragedy, the Myers House, but that was before I realized how beautiful Haddonfield is on Halloween night! So the journey will be just as pretty as the destination. I've always wanted to tick that cliche 'creepy house on the edge of town kids dare each other to knock on' box!"

Noah reverses the camera's direction so you can see what he's seeing: a slender neighborhood street that's boundless in length.

"Lampkin Lane," reads another road sign.

Trick-r-treaters not much shorter than the cameraboy can be seen galloping around in the distance, dressed up in mummy rags, vampire capes, and zombie makeup with candy buckets swaying from their wrists. It seems like there's hundreds of Jack-o-lanterns bursting out of the many surrounding households like cornucopias, some cheap and plastic while others actual pumpkins expertly carved into wicked faces. Whether they be real or fake, they all certainly burn through All Hallow's Eve with their candles for hearts, lighting the whole street up with an atmospheric orange contrasting with the indigo starlight. Crisp leaves of reds and browns whip and dance in the air, carried by the cold night breeze that makes Noah shiver in his skimpy costume.

Some dead trees are draped with ghosts, others with toilet paper rolls thrown by mischievous pranksters. Porches are decorated with witch animatronics and bat silhouettes, while front-yards are strewn with skeletons, coffins, and spiders the size of horses. Over-the-top creepy ambiance haunts the entire street, distorted by the cheap voice-boxes they come from. Thick fake mist pouring from fog machines sweep the sidewalks Noah slowly walks down, amazed by every pixel of this seasonal landscape. He's ripped straight out of his wonderland, however, when he bumps into what seems like a drab brick wall at first, one that materialized out of no where, as if your eyes just adjusted to the darkness cast by the trees.

"OOF!" Noah stumbles back before reorienting himself.

Like a roadblock on the sidewalk, it's a denim boiler suit a few sizes too big for the lofty body it dresses, said body a mixture of thick and athletic. The collar is popped to the extent of seeming Dracula-esque, and the baggy one-piece is unzipped a bit to show a glimpse at the white t-shirt underneath, and the ensuing big bosom behind that. The muted coveralls are based by a pair of black boots and crowned by what seems like a cheap rubber Halloween mask, just as colorless as the rest of her clothes, that's withered away in storage for decades, judging from all the cracked grimy weathering. It casts black gaping eyes and a permanently stone cold expression on the assailant's face, or lack of therefore, really.

"Oh...Hello!" Noah greets.

The stranger remains dead silent and dead still, a statue.

"Are you a trick'r treater? If so, rock on, girl! Screw what people say, you're never to big to have fun! Speaking of big, holy crap...You're like...six-three! You must make most guys seem like little girls! Of course, just about everyone makes me seem like a little girl..." He coughs. "So uh, I'm a witch. Obviously. Not the manliest thing I could've dressed up as but I outgrew all of my old costumes and all I could fit in was my sister's," he almost word-for-word repeats the same excuse he told you. "...So what are you supposed to be? Don't get me wrong, the mask is creepy, but it's a pretty random getup. Is it just something you threw together at the last second, or like a movie villain or something? Man, I'd be embarrassed if it was. You see, I pride myself on how much of a horror aficionado I...Oh my gosh, I'm talking so much you haven't even had the chance to say a single word! Oh, I'm so sorry, I get nervous around strangers, especially girls, and when I get nervous, I talk a lot...So uh...the floor is yours!"

The stranger remains idle, like an AFK player in a co-op game. The uncomfortable silence is broken by a vibration coming from Noah's skirt.

"Oh, uh, sorry, let me take this," he jumps on the first chance to escape the awkward situation by checking his phone.

It's an automatic text.

"NEWS ALERT: Mental patient Mikaela Myers, also known under the serial killer alias 'The Shape', escaped from Smith's Grove Sanitarium at approximately 7:45 PM earlier this evening. Convict is EXTREMELY dangerous, still at large, and was last spotted at a truck stop right outside Haddonfield. Stay inside and lock all of your windows and doors. Convict is also disguised as a trick'r treater. DO NOT APPROACH UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES."

Noah looks up from his phone screen and the stranger is no where to be seen.

All of a sudden, as if the world itself suddenly shifted, the densely packed, beautifully done-up district becomes a cold empty husk Noah shrinks up in the middle of, alone and helpless like a young woman in Jack the Ripper's territory. He clenches up as the chill of Samhain creeps up his spine, and he slowly but nervously scans Lampkin Lane, cold breath blowing from his chapped lips. He takes a shaky, nervous step forward, then another, then another, his timid stroll escalating to a power-walk. Then a jog, then a run, as his breathing picks up in sync. Before you know it, he's broken out into a sprint upon realizing he's bumped into a psycho that's at large, mind too clouded with a primal fear to do anything else but fly. He looks behind him and sees a black Shape far off down the road, calmly following him from a distance.

"Ahhh! AHHH! AHHHHH!" Noah's breathless cries of fear pick up in volume along with the lightning fast stomps of his boots.

At first, Haddonfield's profusely decorated streets made for an eye-catching representation of the Halloween holiday. But now, all the billows of fake fog, wind-blown naked trees, and store-brought props form a mind-twisting obstacle course for Noah to helplessly skitter through like a terrified rat as he's pursued by The Bogeywoman. He finally remembers he's in a populated neighborhood and thinks to call for help, being drawn to one of the many clapboard homesteads at each of his shoulders. Despite looking just like all the other houses on this street, there's something about this particular two-story estate, sky blue with black trimmings and marked by a white-and-red "Strode Realty" sign, that puts a pit in your gut. Regardless, Noah is chased right into it, desperately hoping that its resident is home and merciful enough to shelter him from an escaped lunatic. Upon sprinting up the overgrown front-lawn's sidewalk and onto the porch, Noah rattles the knob and bangs on the door with all of his might.

"SOMEONE! ANYONE! HELP ME! HEEEELP!" he screams at the top of his lungs, hoping that the lights will come on.

Noah looks down at the welcome mat.

"MYERS"

Something slaps down onto the back of his neck, then all hell breaks loose. There's a massive "CRASH!" and the camera goes ape-shit as dozens of glass shards fly through the air into the dilapidated living room of the Myers House. Noah tumbles across the old carpet, costume completely ruined with scratches that show off the bloody gashes underneath from going through a jagged glass blender. The Shape, with her freakish strength and only one hand, just threw Noah into her old house through a window. Knocked nigh-unconscious, Noah is laid out on the carpet, helpless as Myers suddenly appears over him like she just teleported in. Inexplicably, she's holding a...pumpkin, in her hands.

"Oh, God, please no, don't take me from my family, PLEASE!" Noah begs at the figure looming over him as he crawls out of a pile of broken, crackling glass.

Myers only moves a single muscle - one in her neck as she curiously tilts her head at the ruined mess that's supposed to be Noah, like a detached child inspecting an injured animal. She lowers to her knees and sets the pumpkin down on the floor, unsheathing a kitchen knife with a blade so big it could almost count as a machete to use to carve the great big squash a wicked face. Fortunately for Noah, it's already gutted so there's no stench to haunt him with. Mikaela digs a lighter out of her pocket and flicks it on, giving the pumpkin a flaming heart that casts the Myers House with fireplace-like lighting. She pinches the zipper dangling from her breasts, dragging it all the way down to her abdomen so her upper body can be shed from her ill-filling jumpsuit. The excess denim thus hangs from her hips like a hoodie tied around one's waist. She hooks her white undershirt on the roof of her F cups, further revealing her naked curves and flat abs. Her undone jeans sag down a couple inches to denude her untouched cunt. She flops her tits down on the pumpkin's roof, its stem slipping into her cleavage, to show off how her bosom is almost as big and rotund as the 20 pound jack'o lantern.

Realizing he's in for some late night fucking, Noah tries pulling himself backwards across the floor in an escape attempt. Mikaela slowly chases after him with a brisk stroll and plummets down to her knees with a fall that shakes the whole house. She gets a handful of Noah's hair in her fist and smothers him with the sharp chiseled edges of her midriff, forcing him to muscle worship all six of her abs with panicked and resistant kisses. As his head approaches her chest with his lips ascending her torso ab-by-ab, Mikaela gets her giant milk jugs in a choke from her left hand, making her nipples burst out their areola like a stress toy's eyes. The Shape mercilessly crams both her tits into Noah's mouth at once, making his cheeks bloat up as far as they can go. He tries spitting the breasts out, but they're stuck in his mouth for whole minute until he's finally able to pry himself from Myers's chest with a flesh-sucking "POP!". Mikaela punches her fist into the pit of Noah's skirt and gives one ferocious yank. Black fabric and white elastic soar up into the air like confetti, and everything between Noah's corset and boots are completely exposed.

"Aw, I just tailored that!" he whimpers with tears already in his eyes, sounding genuinely miserable rather than merely annoyed.

The Smith's Grove patient seizes Noah by his right shin, then yanks it up onto her left shoulder, mounting it and hugging his leg. This hitches their genitals together and allows Mikaela's vulva to envelope Noah's flaccid shaft with one little wiggle forward. She begins working her hips back and forth. You can see a cock swell into an erection up underneath the skin of Myers's groin, which she promptly exploits as a toy for her pleasure and her pleasure alone. Noah persists in his attempts at dragging himself away, but his tip is barbed in her tight pussy like an anchor, plus she's clinging onto his thigh with superhuman strength. She churns her hips around and around, starting off gently before crescendoing into a fuck that rocks the whole damn rickety house. She grinds his cock to the point of ejaculation, as evident by all the bubbly-sounding gurgling noises belching from her crotch. Even before she detaches, cum can be seen profusely seeping down into her buttcrack. But when she rises to her feet, it's a downright mess.

Her clit and Noah's dickhole are connected by a thick, gooey string of fluid, a stew of pre-cum, semen, and vaginal discharge. It snaps once Mikaela get high enough, which makes a huge pool on Noah's smooth-as-silk crotch. Myers slips the other half of her ill-fitting jumpsuit back on, though doesn't bother with the zipper, so her fat bulging nipples are still shamelessly hanging out on full display. She rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and snuggles with Noah, creepily stroking his chin and almost gouging his eyes out with her razor sharp nipples as she dips down and forces her boobs in his face. Noah buries the back of his head in the floorboards in an attempt to resist, where he notices the camera, Peeping Tom you, and remembers he's supposed to be hosting a show here. He addresses his audience upside down and at a dutch angle.

"Well, I guess this is how I'm spending the rest of my Halloween," Noah looks aside with a 'sick of this shit' scowl in his eye as The Shape molests him in the background. "Hopefully your guys's night was better than mine. Late-"

His sendoff is interrupted when Myers once again forces herself onto him, making him kiss her juicy teats and dancing muscles. Noah reaches his hand out to you and scrambles it around the camera, blindly looking for the off button whilst a pair of tits are flopped down onto his face. After a couple seconds of fingering the camera, Noah finally finds what he's looking for right as blood returns to his cock and a boner is erected in the backdrop. Since his mouth is occupied, he instead gives his goodbyes with a peace sign formed from his fingers before ending the video at 10:31.

The final shot of the video is the jack'o lantern crackling in the background. For most of the time, it seemed to be watching Noah and Mikaela like a creepy voyeur, but just this once, it feels like it's watching...You.

Happy Halloween.