Charlie threw himself to the edge of his neighbour's bushes, avoiding a group of unconvincing Avengers and ghouls as they raced by, leaving behind a trail of candy as they bandied across the sidewalk as fast as their legs would carry them. He smiled nostalgically, remembering a time not too long ago when he would have been doing the same with his own friends, but never quite so early in the afternoon.
The brief walk home gave him ample time to look around and take in the look of the neighbourhood, witnessing just how much effort his neighbours had put into crafting their extravagant displays. Not a single home was left untouched, though some were clearly more decked out than others. An army of animtronics lined the sidewalk wherever Charlie looked, ranging from the tallest recreation of Frankenstein's monster to the smallest contraption designed to leap out and frighten anyone who wasn't paying attention.
Not a single home remained untouched by an array of fake cobwebs and endless strings of flickering berry lights, all waiting for the sun to complete its descent to properly allow the intended effect to be properly appreciated. But one home in particular was head and shoulders above the rest, perfectly encapsulating everything Charlie loved about the holiday.
Charlie rounded the final turn at the end of the neighbourhood, smiling when his home came into sight, along with the near blanket of decorations draping almost every space on the property. The bushes were weighed down by three layers of rope lights that criss-crossed over each other, flashing brightly enough to illuminate the surrounding sidewalk. The path leading up to the front porch was flanked by a variety of ghoulish props and haunting figures, each provided with its own spotlight to cast harsher shadows upon them.
The porch itself was much the same, covered with sheets of white webbing with oversized arachnids frozen in mid-leap, pouncing in the direction of those making their way to the front door. Positioned beside the door was a prison inmate sat on a thick wooden seat, howling and writhing in agony when its motion sensor triggered the electrical surge directed towards the metal plate resting on his head. It was a gruesome addition to the range, but one that Charlie had no doubt would be a hit with the kids when night fell.
Charlie unlocked the door and headed inside, dropping his school bag just beside the shoe rack, happy to get the weight off his shoulder. He rolled his numb arm and slipped into the adjoining living room, only finding a few Halloween themed trinkets dotted around, a sign of just how much attention went into the exterior decoration. Watching his step, wary of the rows of electrical cords running from the interior sockets to the outdoor lights, Charlie slowly inched towards the kitchen, forced onto one foot when a loose cable managed to wrap itself around the lip of his sneaker.
Catching his balance, Charlie twisted around and was met by a vast ocean of sugar-laden treats, contained within orange and black bowls covering most of the surface of the large kitchen island. He was tempted to reach out and test the selection for himself, fighting the urge before one piece of candy became a whole bowl's worth.
Towards the end of the island was a large black cauldron, complete with a glowing green light emanating from within and the digitised sound of bubbling liquid, although the effect was undermined when Charlie spotted a thick wire extending out from the base. But what immediately caught Charlie's attention was the sight of a black high heel peaking out from the corner of the island, one that wouldn't have looked out of place in a strip club. It was an unusual thing to see in his home, made even more confusing when he realised that it could only belong to one person.
"Mom? Is that you?" Charlie called, hearing the sound of metallic clattering coming beneath the island.
"Ow! Yes, honey," the voice of Charlotte Meyers answered, laced with a degree of nervousness.
"Are you alright? And why are you hiding down there?" Charlie asked, bemused by his mother's odd behaviour.
"It's a little difficult to explain," Charlotte said, making no attempt to rise from her hiding place, only sliding her heeled-foot out of view.
"Unless you're going to spend the rest of Halloween counting the screws holding the island together, you're gonna have to come out at some point," Charlie laughed, leaning against the marble top. "It can't be that bad. You didn't get a rash or something, did you?"
"No, but I'm beginning to think that would have been a lot easier to deal with," Charlotte answered, letting out a noticeable sigh of resignation. "Are you sure you want me to come out?"
"Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure that it's not anywhere near as bad as you think it is," Charlie assured her.
"Fine, but I don't want to see an ounce of judgment," Charlotte warned him. It took half a minute for her to build the courage she needed, finally raising her blonde head above the edge of the island. She rose up inch by inch until she stood completely upright, moving to the side to show off her outfit fully. Not a second passed by before her son's reaction came, one that brought a deep red blush to her pale cheeks. "What did I say about judgment?"
"Can you blame me? I just wasn't expecting anything... well... nothing close to this," Charlie sputtered, incapable of holding back his reaction.
The otherwise conservative housewife was clad in an outfit that was outrageously scandalous by her usual standards, appearing completely foreign on her lithe body. The pointed hat and flowing black dress were the clear hallmarks of a witch's outfit, but that was where the similarities ended. The vinyl material clung to her body as tightly as a glove, adhering to the contours of her body down to the most subtle curve, even allowing the indentation of her naval to appear. Despite the skirt reaching down to her feet, a substantial slit exposed her legs up to the very top of her milky thighs. Having only ever seen her wearing sensible shoes and office pumps, it came as quite a shock for Charlie to find a pair of black six-inch platform heels strapped to her dainty feet, with a thin strap running across her toes to show off her painstakingly manicured nails.
"It's not that bad," Charlotte huffed, trying to keep the slit closed to cover up her legs. "Your mouth is practically hanging open."
"Sorry. But this isn't like anything you've worn for Halloween before. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you wearing anything close to this before," Charlie exclaimed, consciously keeping his eyes level with his mom's, not trusting himself enough to not explore every divine inch of her. "What happened?"
"Making the mistake of ordering online, that's what happened. I didn't have time this year to visit a costume store, so I had to resort to blindly buying a 'Wicked Witch of the West' outfit," Charlotte looked down and frowned, reluctantly showing off the daring costume. "Instead, I got something called a 'Naughty Witch of the East', I look like a stripper."
"No you don't," Charlotte consoled her, even though she wasn't too far from the truth of it. "Okay, it's not quite what you would normally wear for the occasion, but maybe a change isn't a bad thing."
"There's change and then there's this. God, imagine what the neighbours are going to say when they see me wearing this," Charlotte sighed, brushing her fingers over her stomach, still not quite used to the thinness of the material coating her. "I'll be the subject of stories among the gossip hounds for months."
"Don't you think you may be exaggerating just the teensiest bit? Don't you remember Ms Stevenson's 'Slave Leia' costume from a few years ago?" Charlie spotted a flicker of a smile finally appear on his mom's glossy lips, one he eagerly returned. "That bikini didn't leave anything to the imagination."
"I certainly remember you suddenly paying a lot more attention to Susan Stevenson after that incident. But the key thing to keep in mind is that Susan is a divorcee, I'm still a happily married woman. If I'm seen wearing this people might begin to think I've got a lover on the side. Given that your father is going to spend the rest of the night at work, it would be difficult to justify why I'm wearing such a racy costume."
"Who cares what anyone else thinks? I think you look hot," Charlie felt his body grow numb when the last word somehow slipped from his mouth, coughing nervously when Charlotte raised a brow at the compliment. "Objectively speaking."
"You do? Well, perhaps I can handle being a sexy witch for just one night. Who knows, maybe I'll end up becoming the fantasy of some of the boys around the neighbourhood," Charlotte winked, taking mercy on her blushing son by changing the subject. "So, what's the plan for you tonight? Got any big house parties lined up? Meeting up with any girls?"
"I was planning on going to go to a party at Martin Brendell's house, but his parents came home early from their weekend vacation and busted him just as he was dragging a crate of beer through the garage. So it looks like I'm staying here with you for the night," Charlie laughed at the squeal of delight his mom gave.
"Just like the good old days," Charlotte tottered over to Charlie, dragging him into a tight hug, unaware of the effect of pressing her breasts into his had, especially with the lack of a bra ensuring that only a thin layer of vinyl separated them. "Looks like I'll have my little helper by my side, helping me to keep all those ravenous trick-or-treaters at bay. Did you have a costume of your own picked out? Or did you prefer to rock a more casual style tonight?"