DC’s Dawnstar: Assessing

Her shoulders ached. The left side of her body too. Her wings ached most of all. She heard voices coming from outside of the room – a strange language; familiar, yet ancient. She opened her eyes and looked around. A man slept on a seat opposite. Looking further around the room, she saw it comfortably decorated, with various pieces of furniture spread around the edges. Paintings and pictures adorned the walls, and a large one on the wall opposite the bed on which she lay featured who she thought was a younger version of the sleeping man and a woman. She looked at her right hand and realised her ring was missing. She noticed the voices become louder outside the door, so she pulled the blanket over her again and pretended to sleep. Through one partly opened eye, she saw a woman enter the room, stand in the centre and look over to the man. The woman said something indecipherable, and an equally inaudible voice came from the other side of the door. The woman walked over to where she lay and the other woman entered the room, standing just inside the door. The man remained sleeping. She knew they were talking about her, but couldn’t understand their words. She had to track her ring which would help her to do this. She focussed. She could feel the ring nearby. Outside. She could sense a musty smell. She picked up the smell of rotting wood… dried soil… rusting metal. The combination of smells she sensed confused her. She had to get through that door. She heard the other woman step into the room and decided to act now.

She leapt off the bed flinging the blanket to the floor. She ferociously flapped her wings sending objects scattering around the room. She almost laughed as the first woman to enter the room started lifting and lowering her arms whilst speaking at her in her garbled tongue. Her moment to get out of the room was taken from her as the other woman slammed the door shut.

“I need my ring!” She shouted. “I need my ring!”

“I nood mey rung tyut!” The woman by the door said.

The commotion caused the man to awaken. He shouted something to the woman by the door, who replied. She wanted to know what they were saying. The woman by the door ran out through it and returned carrying a package which she handed to the man. The man took an object out of the package and started breaking it up, tossing pieces onto the floor.

She picked up the scent of bread. She realised she was hungry. The man and the woman were still speaking to each other. She needed to calm things down. She sensed these people were trying to help her, not keep her captive. She stopped flapping her wings and sat calmly in the centre of the room. The two women were now blocking the door.

“I need my ring!” She said again. The man gestured for her to eat as she looked over to the second woman to come into the room. She remembered now she had helped her to walk inside before she slept. In fact the man and this woman had. “I need my ring!” she pleaded in desperation, as she picked up a piece of bread. The bread was edible. Bland, but edible. She picked up a couple of other pieces and ate them too.

She remembered the way they walked into the room. In her mind, she back-tracked the route they took. Through the door. Through another set of transparent doors. Across a field surrounded by numerous different plants and shrubs. Into a small room. Yes! This is the room that smells of musty, rotting wood, she realised. In her mind she could see the ring covered in fragments of wood and pottery.

She stood as calmly as she could, and walked toward the two women by the door. She pointed to the door, smiling at them as she did. Calmly, she motioned for them to both move inside the room, which they did in haste. She noticed the look of fear on their faces. The man stood and comforted the woman who had brought the package of bread into the room. The other woman bent to pick up one of the artefacts she had accidentally knocked to the floor.

She followed the path she saw in her mind and walked out through the double transparent doors. She crossed the field. The starlight was bright. She hadn’t thought of the star while she was in the room. She realised there were no windows in there. The air was cool. It was early in the day. She approached the small room and found a broken door. She pulled it open and stepped inside to the musty darkness.

The image of her missing ring was clear in her mind. She walked between old wooden units, bending to lift a rotting pole with a bent, rusty and sharp item connected to it. She put it on top of one of the units. With her foot, she moved some of the broken wooden fragments side to side. She looked up and saw the hole in the ceiling of the room.

She remembered the way she fell through it. She remembered the energy surge that sent her flying across the galaxy. She remembered the heat as she entered this planet’s atmosphere. She remembered landing on this wooden room and then falling through it in the darkness before blacking out for a few minutes.

She remembered how gently the elderly couple helped her up and walked her to the bed where she slept soundly. She remembered the aches in her body.

She saw the gold of her ring between two of the wooden slats that made up the floor. She bent and retrieved the ring, and placed it onto the third finger on her right hand.

And finally she remembered her name.



This is the third instalment of my fan fiction tale based on the DC Comics character Dawnstar. The first part can be found here, and the second here. Dawnstar was created by Paul Levitz and Mike Grell. All other characters are of my own creation.

DC’s Dawnstar: Awakening

“Mabel? What’s wrong? You sounded urgent on the phone and now you look as white as a ghost.”

“Sheila. Quick. Come in.” Mabel ushered her sister into the hallway and quickly checked left and right up and down the street. She looked at the bus stop in front of the house. “Were you followed? Was anybody in the bus shelter?” She closed and locked the door.

“Er…no” Sheila replied.

“Good. Now, I want you to go into the front room, and don’t panic.”

“Can I take my coat off?” Sheila was starting to feel concerned.

“No time. No time. In a minute.” Mabel pointed to the living room door, which was closed, and gestured Sheila to walk through it.

Gingerly, Sheila pushed open the door and stepped through. Two armchairs were the first things to see in the room, and sat in one of them was George, fast asleep. A tray sat on the other chair, with a teapot, a jug of milk and three empty cups, and a small plate of biscuits. “What’s going on? Is George alright?” Sheila looked back at Mabel, who continued to gesture her into the room. Sheila stepped into the centre of the room, looking at George. “Is George OK?” She asked with a little more urgency.

“Oh, he’s fine, Sheila!” Mabel said, slightly exasperated. “The sofa. Look at the sofa!”

Sheila turned herself around and looked at the sleeping figure on the sofa, who was covered by a pale peach crocheted blanket. “Oh, I like that blanket, Mabel.”

“Never mind about that now, our Sheila. Look under her head.”

Sheila looked at the way the young girl was propped up on the sofa. “Who is she?” she asked, as she looked at the pillows behind her head. “They don’t look too comfortable them, May. Why have you folded them like that?”

“Look again.”

Sheila noticed the feathers. “You should’ve said, May. I could’ve brought a couple of pillows if you’ve only got these old ones.”

“Ooh, Sheila. Look! She’s an Angel. They’re her wings!”

“Don’t be daft, Mabel. An Angel! Who is she?”

“I don’t know. I thought with you working on the reception at the police station, you might’ve heard of any missing people or anything… or heard of anything fallin’ from the skies last night.”

“Falling from the…?” Sheila smiled. “Mabel, I don’t work at the police station. I work on the reception at the plumbers across the road from the police station. I keep telling you that! Now, what’s going on? Who’s this girl, and why have you really asked me to come here at half eight all flustered?”

“It’s her! She fell through our shed roof last night. Me and George managed to get her in here and onto the settee, and she went out like a light. She’s been like that ever since. And then he” Mabel thumbed over to her husband, “fell asleep there shortly afterwards. I made us all tea, but it’s cold now. I can microwave it up if you want some.”

“No ta, I’m fine…” Sheila looked again at the figure on the sofa. “How’s she an Angel? She’s just a girl.”

“Well, them wings are stuck to her good and proper if she isn’t an Angel. They won’t budge!” Mabel explained. “I was hoping you’d have heard something about this.”

“No… well, I wouldn’t. You’ll have to – does she need an ambulance?”

“There isn’t a mark on ‘er, she’s just slept all the way through. She was groggy when we brought her in, but she walked OK.”

“Walked?” Sheila pondered. “Maybe her wings are broken.”

“Broken?!” Mabel brought her right hand over her mouth, shocked. “I hadn’t thought of that. And here was me tryin’ to pull ‘em off! Should I call a vet?”

“A vet??!” Sheila burst out laughing. “She isn’t an animal.”

“But she’s part bird. They may be able to help.”

“Mabel, she’s a girl with glued on wings. Don’t be daft.”

The girl on the sofa sat upright, and instantly starting flapping her wings ferociously, creating a strong wind in the room. She kicked the blanket to the floor, and leapt off the sofa.

“Ooh, ‘eck!” Mabel shouted, as she shut the door with a slam. The winged girl knocked a couple of ornaments off the mantel with her beating wings. “Me squirrels!”

Also panicking, Sheila picked up one of the ornamental squirrels without thinking. “They aren’t broken, May.” She said. “What are they? Marble?”

“Sheila! We need to try an’ calm ‘er down. She’s going mad!”

Sheila held up both her arms, palms facing the girl. “Calm down. Now calm down…” she offered.

“Ah do rat clack” The girl screamed. “AH DO RAT CLACK!”

“Ah do rat clack, love!” Mabel said in as soothing a voice she could muster.

“What the bloomin’…” the commotion woke George. “Mabel, get ‘er some bread! Quick!”


“Bread Mabel! Now!”

“George Green, don’t you speak to me that way! Why bread?”

Sheila raised and lowered her palms, hoping the girl would know she wanted to calm her and meant no harm. The girl sent another ornament crashing to the floor with her wing. “Oh, that one’s broke, Mabel!”

“Bread! She might be hungry.” George shouted, and Mabel ran to the kitchen, returning a second later with a loaf. She handed it to George. George took out a slice and broke it into pieces, scattering it across the floor. Sheila joined Mabel inside the door.

“Ah do rat clack!” the girl said again.

“George Green! She isn’t a bird!” Mabel argued. “Stop throwin’ ‘er bread!”

The girl stopped flapping and sat herself cross-legged in the centre of the room.

“Ah do rat clack!” she said once more, looking at Mabel with a pleading look across her face. She picked up a piece of bread. George motioned to his mouth, suggesting she could eat it, which she did. And another. And then another.

“She was only hungry, Mabel.” George said, offering a full slice.


This is the second instalment of my fan fiction tale based on the DC Comics character Dawnstar. The first part can be found here. Dawnstar was created by Paul Levitz and Mike Grell. All other characters are of my own creation.

DC’s Dawnstar


“GEORGE!” Intense shaking followed.

“Uh… what…? Where? Mabel, what are you doing? It’s three o’clock in the morning. I’ve only just got to sleep.”

“George, someone’s broken into the shed.”

George sat upright in bed, still feeling sleepy. “The shed? What shed?”

“Your shed. Our shed. The garden shed. And it’s ten past one.” Mabel walked over to the bedroom window, wrapping herself in her dressing gown. “I heard a clattering and got up to look out, and I saw the hole. They’ve got in through the roof.”

“Through the roof? The door’s hanging off, Mabel. Why would they bother to climb up to the roof?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Come and ‘ave a look!”

George moaned as he climbed out of bed and walked across the bedroom to stand beside his wife. Through the light of next door’s faulty security light he could see the splintered hole in the roof of the shed.

“We’re in the middle of a street. Why would someone break into a garden shed in the middle of a street?” George was puzzled. “And I’m not too happy that they’ve chosen my shed.”

“It’s not as though there’s anything in it for starters!” Mabel scoffed. “Your bench is riddled with woodworm.”

“I’m going to see if they’ve taken anything.” George put on his dressing gown. “They’d best not have taken me watering can.”

“Why would they want your watering can?” Mabel laughed, and then stopped herself as she saw George putting on his slippers. “You can’t go down there, George Green. They may still be down there.”

“I’m going, Mabel. And I’m going to give ‘im what for.”

“But George. I’m going to phone our Sheila.”

“Mabel, what would phoning your Sheila do? By the time she gets here, he’ll be long gone.”

Mabel sighed as George left the bedroom and walked down the stairs. She stepped into her slippers and followed him.

George obtained a small torch from the drawer beside the fridge in the kitchen, and walked through the sliding door into the conservatory. Mabel linked his left arm as he unlocked and opened the door out into the back garden. “Go back inside, Mabel. I can deal with this.”

“Nonsense, George. I’m coming with you, and that’s that.”

Outside, the night air was cool. The sky was partly cloudy, but several bright stars could be seen shining above. The crescent of the moon shone brightly too, giving both George and Mabel a clear view of the hole in the shed’s roof. The security light from next door switched off as they stepped outside.

“Mabel. They’ve smashed their way through that. It must have taken them ages. It would’ve been quicker for them to peel back the planks.” George shone his torch over to the shed. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier? We could’ve scared them off before this.”

“George Green, I woke you as soon as I ‘eard the noise. I went to the window, saw the hole and woke you. There and then. Don’t go saying I was lying there all night without doing anything.”

They walked across the garden to the shed.

“I’m not saying anything like that, Mabel. I’m just saying it would’ve taken them ages to make a hole that size by knockin’ it through.”

“Well it didn’t. It was like a quick whoosh, is what it was. A whooshing clatter. They probably just fell through the rotting wood.”

“Right then. Now shush. We don’t want to let them know we’re here.” Mabel glared at George as he shone his torch onto the padlock on the shed door and turned the key. “I mean, if they’d have just tried the door at least, they’d have seen the key was in the lock. They needn’t ‘ave gone to the bother of climbing up to the roof and force themselves in that way.”

George pulled the rotting door outwards, and he and his wife were greeted by the familiar and comforting musty aroma from within. A small crockery plant pot fell out of the door and George bent to pick it up, rubbing his back as he did so. “This cold is doin’ nothing for me back” he moaned.

They both peered inside the shed as George shone the torch around. Garden tools and plant pots were strewn all over the place, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. Debris covered the floor and large splinters of wood lay scattered across the top of the workbench.

“There!” Mabel shouted. “Behind the bench. They’re asleep!”

George shone his torch over the figure who lay stunned between the bench and the shelves. A rake and a hoe lay across them. “They were after my watering can. Look!” George directed the torchlight to the rusted can under the intruder’s left arm.

“George!” Mabel rolled her eyes.

They both stepped into the shed, taking care not to trip over the contents that were scattered everywhere. George shone his torch at the figure’s face. They could both see her eyes slowly opening and closing. They could also hear a faint groaning.

“George! It’s a girl!” Mabel realised. “She must’ve been freezing, looking at how she’s dressed, and wanted to get some warmth in our shed. Poor thing.”

“Mabel, there’s a bus stop outside, with a shelter. It isn’t as though she could see our shed from the street. She was after my waterin’ can. That’s all there is to it.”

“George! Even if she did want your watering can, it looks like she’s hurt. We can’t leave her there like that. Let’s see if we can get her inside and give her a cup of tea.” Mabel took the torch off George, and moved the light away from the girl’s face, stopping mid-sweep. “Are they feathers?”

“Mabel, they’re wings. Look.”

“George? Is she an Angel? She must be an Angel. Look at her face.”

“Mabel, why would an Angel want my watering can?”

“Oh, George. Let’s get her inside. She needs help.”


I’m trying to get my mind back into writing again, but thought, just for once, I would have a go a creating a piece of fan-fiction. Being a long time comic book and superhero fan, I thought I’d have a go at writing something featuring a character who isn’t as well known as others, and opted for DC Comics’ Dawnstar. Dawnstar was created in the mid to late 1970s by Paul Levitz and Mike Grell, and she is set in the far distant future. Credit where credit’s due!

I thought about what would happen if Dawnstar crashed into our time period, into the back garden of a normal everyday couple, and tried to write it like the first scene from a movie or TV show about the character.

I feel uneasy about writing using other peoples’ characters, but as my characters have a tendency to speak to me and tell me what to write, lately, Dawnstar was doing the same. It goes without saying that I hold no rights to the character, and Dawnstar is the only character that doesn’t come from the depths of my mind. The Greens, the garden shed and the watering can are all figments of my imagination.

The question now is… will the characters speak to me further?

The Majestic Archway

The Majestic Archway stands ahead.

After months of walking, searching, for this gateway to the Realm Beyond, I find it to be smaller than I imagined… and not as impressive. Where’s the gold? Where are the ornate statues? And it seems to be a little overgrown. It’s hardly an impressive sight for such a powerful portal. Obviously, my mind had imagined something far greater.

Still, the sky looks blue and bright and clear on the other side.

All I need to do now is cross the bridge and walk on through. The way ahead looks clear.

It seems too easy.

Agents of Darkness VI (Halloween Special Part 2)

Mrs Sinster flopped back into the sofa in the living room, and kicked off her shoes. “I feel like I’ve been walking for a hundred years!” She complained.

Mr Sinster just sat down in the armchair opposite. “We’ve only been travelling for ten minutes!” He said with a smile.

“Is that all it took? To get all these six items? It feels like almost a month!” Mrs Sinster looked at the objects beside the sofa. Harp, in cat form, came over to investigate as well. “I wonder what these are all needed for?” Mrs Sinster looked at the cone-shaped hat in particular.

“So, let’s see if we can work it out.” Mr Sinster started to pull the items into two groups. “Gabriel wanted us to get the Key of Kamra, the Book of the Appointed Pineapple and the Round Pyramid”

“And Monique ordered us to get the Candlestick of Kabbabooga, the Smoked Mirror of Al and the Goblet of the Fallen Whispers.” Mrs Sinster continued. “A scroll, a book, a hat, a candlestick, a plant and a glass. They are all completely different, and hardly items to be used in a ritual of any kind.”

“Don’t forget we had to spread joy and light.” Mr Sinster added.

“And chaos and confusion.” Mrs Sinster said thoughtfully. “We’ve completed the second challenge. I’m confused. I’m always chaotic though.”

Monique D’Arkness appeared in a plume of putrid black smoke. “Can you not count?” She demanded to know. “I told you to retrieve three items – not six!”

“Ah.” Mr Sinster began to speak. Monique held up her hand to silence him. Before she could speak, Gabriel appeared through a stream of golden stars surrounding a white light.

“Splendid!” The angel said, spotting his three items. “Monique… Monique… Monique! Trust you to go for the Candlestick of Kabbabooga. Trying to alter reality and time yet again, I see?”

“Well you went for the Key of Kamra again. The black hole. So predictable.” Monique hissed as she spoke.

“Er… would either of you like a cup of tea?” Mrs Sinster asked.

“Silence!” Monique spat.

“Yes, please. Milk and two sugars would be lovely!” Gabriel replied in his usual angelic tone.

“I’ll have EIGHT sugars, then!” Monique added. “May as well join the party before altering reality!”

“I’m not going to let you do that, Monique.” Gabriel stated.

“You have no choice, Gabriel. I have the candlestick, the Smoked Mirror and the Goblet. Once I take a sip of the sap from the plant from the glass, and then dribble it all over the candlestick, the eons old spell will commence again. The portal will open and chaos will spew forth!”

“Monique, my dear friend. That isn’t the Candlestick of Kabbabooga. Your spell will fail.” Gabriel smiled. Mr Sinster finally sorted the objects so Monique’s were together, as were Gabriel’s.

“Nonsense. Of course it is the Candlestick of Kabba… wait! Has Little Miss Nicey tricked me, and sent the Candlestick of Kippikakka? Let me see… let me see.” She focused closely on the intricate design of the candlestick. She saw a scratch down one side. The flaw that differentiates between Kippikakka and Kabbabooga. “You are wrong, Gabriel. This is Kabbabooga.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, as Mrs Sinster handed him a cup of tea. “Two sugars for you,” she said, “And eight sugars for you, Monique.” Gabriel tried to thank Mrs Sinster, but was interrupted by Monique. “Gah! I DID NOT WANT MILK! Can you not do anything right?”

“Sorry, Monique. I-I’ll make you another.”

“No, you won’t.” Mr Sinster said. “She will take her tea, with milk, and the eight sugars she asked for. If she can’t give clear instructions, she will get what she asked for.”

Monique fumed, and snatched the cup and saucer from Mrs Sinster. A drop of the hot, steaming liquid spilled over onto her hand. She didn’t flinch.

“Ooh, let me…” Mrs Sinster bothered.

“Leave me!” Monique yet again fumed. She put the cup and saucer down onto the table without taking a sip. She walked over to her three objects, and glared at the Sinsters and Gabriel. “I’m tired of this now. Let me bring in chaos to the world!” With her fingernail, she scratched deep into the soft stem of the plant. Thick, runny sap started to flow out of the cut. Monique filled the bottom of the glass with the sap, and then tilted the glass around and around so the sap covered the inside. She held the glass up and looked at her reflection in the outside of the glass, which had taken on a smoky mirror appearance. She spoke a couple of words which were undecipherable, and then took a slow, large mouthful of the grey liquid.

“Let the Ceremony of Ceremonies ritual begin.” Gabriel translated, to further confuse the Sinsters.

“Is it All Hallow’s Day today?” Mrs Sinster discreetly whispered to Mr Sinster.

“I don’t think so,” Mr Sinster whispered in reply. “Let’s leave her to it and see what happens!”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t really fancy my reality being altered.” Mrs Sinster’s face developed a concerned look.

“SILENCE!” Monique gurgled, as she held the candlestick under her mouth, and dribbled the sap over it. She made sure the sap covered the flaw in the candlestick. She then anointed the candlestick with the rest of the sap. “Any moment now the crack will grow… and chaos will spew forth! Be ready for the new world order!” She held the candlestick out in front of her.

Gabriel gathered his items and the Sinsters looked nervously on. He moved the cookbook and the hat to one side, and opened the star map, also known as the Key of Kamra.

“Any moment now!” Monique repeated.

“Any moment now!” Gabriel repeated with a broad grin. “It isn’t working, Monique.”

“Give it time!” Monique D’Arkness fumed. “This should be working now! What is happening? What have you done? It’s these two incompetents,” she glared at the Sinsters, “they can’t do anything as requested. Useless. They will be in my office first thing Monday morning for this!”

“But we’ve done…” Mrs Sinster began to say. Gabriel held his hand up now to stop her speaking.”I know what the issue is.” Gabriel said to Monique. He then uttered something nobody could hear.

“What?” Monique spat. “Say it again.”

Gabriel whispered what he’d said, and then repeated it a little louder, still so quiet Monique couldn’t hear him.

“Ah.” Monique looked at the Sinsters. “Universal Balance stuff. You don’t want this pair to hear! I understand.” She walked over to Gabriel and leant in to him. “Say it again, to me.”

“I said ‘enjoy your trip’!” Gabriel pointed his finger at the centre of the Key of Kamra star map, the black hole. Golden stars once again span around him, but this time they surrounded Monique. She was surrounded by the white light that appeared with the stars. The light shrank in size, and funnelled its way into the centre of the map, taking Monique with it.

“What have you done?” Mr Sinster said. “Is she in that black hole?”

“She’s inside the scroll,” Gabriel answered. “Locked in by the Key of Kamra. As she said, Universal Balance stuff!”

“Why didn’t her spell work?” Mrs Sinster yet again was confused. “She was sure it was the Candlestick of Kabbabooga. Is it because it isn’t All Hallow’s Day?”

“I think she wanted the items by today, so mentioned the Ceremony of Ceremonies on All Hallow’s thing to rush you along.You did get the Candlestick of Kabbabooga,” Gabriel’s angelic tones explained. “Only she wasn’t using it. Look.” He pointed over to the candlestick, which started to shake, and blur. It was replaced by a cat.

“Harp!” Mrs Sinster shouted with glee! “You clever thing! Come over here!” Harp, in his cat form, did as asked. Mrs Sinster tickled his ear.

“You only used the map,” Mr Sinster asked Gabriel. “What about the book and the hat?”

“The hat will be used to cover the map, effectively seal it, so on the off-chance Monique manages to find a way out of the scroll, she’ll still be inside the cone. The cookbook… well, there’s a fabulous pineapple upside-down cake recipe in it, which you both have to try!”

“Are you going now?” Mrs Sinster asked. “What about us?”

“I’ll pop by every now and again,” Gabriel smiled. “But Harp and I need to go up to the Angelic Realm now to seal Monique’s darkness away for a long time. You can stay here if you like… spread your own blend of fun in the wider world.”

The stars appeared again. Harp returned to his harp shape once more and leapt into Gabriel’s left arm. The scroll was tucked inside the hat under Gabriel’s right arm. “Oh. One more thing!” Gabriel said. He clicked his fingers and a stream of stars flew across the room over to a cushion on the sofa. They briefly vanished behind it and then returned to Gabriel’s hand carrying the true Candlestick of Kabbabooga. “I’ll take this!” He said, gripping it tightly in his left hand. “I know a very safe place where this can go!” He thanked the Sinsters for the help they provided, knowing that they’d all done something to replace chaos and confusion with light and fun, even if for the briefest of moments, on Halloween. The stars faded into a stream one last time and carried Gabriel, Harp and some of the retrieved items into the envelope on the fireplace. The envelope then itself vanished in another burst of golden stars.

“Fancy a pineapple upside-down cake, Mrs Sinster?” Mr Sinster asked.

“Why not, Mr Sinster.” Mrs Sinster replied, “Only don’t ask me to bake it – I’m terribly clumsy in the kitchen!”

So, the Sinsters are now free of their quest, and free from their ‘contract’ with Monique. I wonder what they’ll be doing next? I’m sure time will tell!

The previous parts to this year’s Halloween special are listed below:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven

Happy Halloween!