It was the thirty-third of October, and the blood-red moon had once again resolutely refused to set. Emmy gave it a cursory glance upward as she locked the front door, trying not to stare too long--it was waxing well past gibbous now, fuller than full, and she'd heard rumors about what happened to people who lost themselves looking at the stain it spread across the sky. She put her hood up over her short dark hair and cast her eyes down at the ground, making her way to the bus stop as fast as she could without running. Only two days since Halloween, and she'd already picked up a whole bunch of new habits.
The jack o'lanterns cackled and catcalled to her as she walked past her neighbors' porches, each one carved into a different hideous face that glowed with a light no earthly candle could produce. Emmy wanted to run up to them and kick each and every last one of those misshapen smiles in, but she'd heard too many rumors about the nasty effects of pumpkin bites to risk it. Besides, even if she smashed every single jack o'lantern on the block, it still wouldn't make November come any quicker. Whatever had fucked them over on October 31 this year had fucked them good and hard, and Emmy wasn't about to fix it with a little bit of petty vandalism.
Emmy thought back to that morning, laughing bitterly to herself as she realized she'd almost thought of remembering it 'as if it were yesterday'. It was yesterday when everyone woke up to what they thought was an amusing little glitch in their smartphones' software, a mistake some programmer must have made in the date and time settings that left every phone and computer on Earth insisting it was October 32nd. But then those last few people who still used good old-fashioned paper calendars tore off the old sheet to reveal the new, and saw to their confusion that the dates matched. It wasn't November 1st. It might never be November 1st now. And nobody knew why.
And Emmy still had to go to work. That was fucking bullshit, right? If there was ever going to be an upside to endless night and cosmic horror and flocks of bats so thick and vast they blotted out the stars, surely it would have to be a couple of days off work, right? But Emmy's landlord was still collecting rent, and her boss was still expecting her to show up at 9 AM sharp even if the sun didn't come up, so here she was. Avoiding scarecrows and wearing Grandma's old crucifix and drowning out the cackles of jack o'lanterns with the help of her wireless earbuds.
She picked up her pace a little as she approached the house on the corner, risking a little trot as she approached the creaking Gothic mansion that was bursting out of the suburban rambler like a parasitic insect emerging from its host. The cities were supposed to be safer than the suburbs, but not everyone could afford to pack up and move, and anyway Emmy didn't think anywhere would be safe if this kept up more than a few days. She'd seen plenty of haunted high-rise movies and books about spooky hotels. People had written horror stories for every space human beings inhabited, and now they were all coming true.
Not that Emmy thought it was the end of the world or anything. Not exactly, at least. Oh, it was unquestionably shitty--she'd done her share of doomscrolling on social media, trying to avoid the posts written in wriggling, glowing sigils that made her eyes hurt to look at, and she knew all about the parade of tragedies that marked what CNN was calling 'The Long Halloween'. Plenty of people were getting got by gangs of zombies, or finding out the hard way that not every gargoyle was just a statue anymore. But people were adapting. Abnormal was becoming the new normal.
Take Emmy for instance. Only two days into the new supernatural order, and she'd already figured out how to fend off the grasping hands that emerged from the cemetery that the Mitchells had put up as a Halloween decoration. She'd already learned that wolfsbane was the same thing as aconite, and that you could get it in tablet form with your Prime subscription for same day delivery. She knew what to do when her eyes started bleeding, and she knew what not to do when the pop-up windows on her browser promised her dread arcane power if she would only click on the convenient link. She was picking up the new rules of this strange, altered reality, and so was everyone else. Everyone who survived at least.