Spooktober

The crisp autumn air signaled the approaching end of October, and with it came the anticipation of a holiday that was entirely new to Michael: Halloween. For the students at the Salvatore School, excitement buzzed throughout the halls as both children and teenagers alike prepared for what many called "Spooktober." Michael had learned that for "normal" people, though he personally disagreed with the term, seeing it as self-deprecating and unnecessary to the school that had so swiftly accepted him, it was a time to shed their everyday selves and embrace fantastical or frightening disguises for a night of fun. But for the supernatural community of the Salvatore School, Halloween provided a rare opportunity to blend in. On this night, the monsters could truly walk freely among humans, their true natures hidden in plain sight.

Michael's existence, however, was anything but typical, and his relationship with Hope had been kept under close wraps. Alaric, ever the leader, had helped maintain the secret, leveraging the authority he held within the school. Michael admired Alaric's ability to navigate both the human and supernatural worlds with grace. Despite all the power the angel wielded, he often found himself in awe of Alaric's leadership and resolve, traits that Michael knew he couldn't replicate, at least not for the many years to come, despite his divine origins.

Of course, no secret could be kept forever. Kaleb, by accident, bared into Hope's room to help with Witch studies, a minor elective that held immense benefits on his GPA . He had remained cool as usual, offering up a half-joking, half-serious remark about volunteering for any sacrificial rituals Hope might need if he disclosed their relationship. Beneath his playful exterior, Kaleb was proud of Michael for finally finding someone who understood him, or at least the closest person to it. 

The night before Halloween had been another "special" night for Michael and Hope, who had practically dragged him into her bed once again, albeit with no real resistance from him. The bond between them had only grown stronger, and Hope had even made sure to stock up on "protection," having recently returned from a trip to town. Now, they laid together in her bed, bathed in the early morning light, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence.

As the two lounged, they found themselves engrossed in The Lord of the Rings trilogy, a recommendation from Hope. It was one of the many things Michael had begun to enjoy, thanks to his friends' constant suggestions. He had already worked his way through Harry Potter, thanks to both Josie and Lizzie's enthusiasm, and was currently debating whether to dive into Game of Thrones, which MG had enthusiastically recommended, or take on Grey's Anatomy, which Alaric swore was a must-watch. History documentaries from Dorian had also piqued Michael's interest, but it was Hope's choice, The Lord of the Rings, that had meant the most to him. 

As the story unfolded on the screen, Hope watched Michael's face, intrigued by his reaction to the epic tale. The saga of the fellowship brining low Saruon, a corrupted, angelic-like being known as a Maia, the same as Gandalf, seemed to capture his attention in a way she hadn't expected. The similarities between Sauron and Michael were hard to ignore. Both were beings of immense power, both had fallen from their original divine purposes, and both held the potential for great ruin.

Hope could tell the story was affecting Michael deeply, especially when Sauron's pursuit of the One Ring was depicted, the object that granted him dominion over the unseen world and those whose rings he had gifted corrupted. Michael's expression grew distant as he seemed to grapple with the darkness that could have consumed him if his path had been different. Lucifer's haunting words from Michael's fragmented memories echoed in his mind: "I am your only future, my path your only path Michael!" The thought chilled him, bringing an unease that he couldn't easily shake.

Could that have been his destiny if Hope hadn't found him? If he hadn't chosen to stay grounded in the mortal world? A cold shiver ran down his spine, and he felt a deep appreciation that the world did not suffer under the weight of the darkness that could have been his.

As Hope lay beside him, a thought crossed her mind, something she had been pondering for days. She had seen his wings only once, when he had revealed them to her, and the experience had left her awestruck. There was something about his wings that felt healing, not just physically but emotionally, too. She wanted to see them again but didn't know how to ask. Would it be too much? Too intimate? Would it be like asking him to expose something deeply personal?

In the early morning quiet, Hope cooed softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Michael," she began, a little shy but with a warmth in her tone, "can I… can I see your wings again? Only if you want to."

Michael paused the film and turned to her with a gentle smile. He could sense her curiosity and desire to connect with him on an even deeper level, and he was more than willing. "Of course," he replied, sitting up slightly on the edge of the bed.

Closing his eyes, Michael focused, his eyes glowing faintly as he summoned his wings. In an instant, the room was bathed in a brilliant, heavenly light. His wings unfurled, their radiant, white feathers glowing with an impossible beauty. They seemed to fill the room with warmth, a warmth that Hope had come to associate with Michael himself. It was the essence of him, his true self, laid bare for her to see.

Hope's breath hitched as tears welled in her eyes, the sight overwhelming her senses. The warmth, the light, the sheer divinity of it all, it was too much and yet exactly what she needed. She couldn't help but cry, though her tears were not of sadness but of joy, awe, and love.

Michael noticed her reaction and immediately retracted his wings, the light fading as he rushed to her side. "Hope, I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly, his voice full of concern.

She shook her head quickly, wiping away the tears as she smiled up at him. "No, Michael, you didn't upset me," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "It's just… every time I see your wings, it feels like they're healing something in me. It's like… they mend small parts of me that's been broken for so long. Thank you."

His heart swelled with warmth as he gently pulled her into a soft kiss, a silent promise that he would always be there for her, to heal and protect. The moment was quiet, intimate, and sacred in a way that words couldn't fully describe.

The next day would bring the hustle and bustle of Halloween preparations and the distractions of life at the Salvatore School, but for now, in the quiet of the morning, it was just the two of them, wrapped in each other's light and love.

They both had finished watching The Lord of the Rings trilogy in their free time by the next morning. Michael, ever eager to immerse himself in the customs of the mortal world, began contemplating his costume for Halloween. The excitement of the holiday was infectious, and the prospect of blending in with the festivities, even if just for a night, intrigued him.

Sitting on Hope's bed with her beside him, he mulled over several ideas when a thought crossed her mind. "Hey, Michael," she began, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "you ever think about shapeshifting? I mean, like Sauron, you know? He could change his form, especially when he wanted to look more... intimidating."

Michael blinked, considering the question. "Shapeshifting?" he echoed, contemplating. "My form on Earth has always felt... malleable, like it's simply clay over who I truly am, something my wings seem to reveal more than anything else." He furrowed his brow slightly, turning the idea over in his mind.

Hope couldn't help but be fascinated by the possibility. "Could you... I don't know, try it? Just for fun? I mean, it is Halloween," she added with a teasing grin. "See if you can pull off a Sauron look. Dark armor, the whole thing."

Michael smiled at her enthusiasm, but something in him stirred as he thought back to the character of Sauron, the corrupted being of power and terror, whose aura dominated everything around him. Without overthinking it, Michael closed his eyes and focused. His body shimmered, the air around him shifting as though reality itself was bending to his will.

Hope's eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and shock as the Michael she knew disappeared before her, replaced by a towering figure cloaked in pitch-black plate armor. He now stood over nine feet tall, looming over her with a pitiless gaze emanating from the eye-slits of his bladed helm. A flanged mace materialized in his hand, radiating an ominous, dark energy. His very presence shifted the atmosphere of the room, where once there had been warmth and light, now there was only a chilling void of power.

Hope's breath caught in her throat as she stared up at the transformed Michael. It wasn't just the appearance that startled her, but the overwhelming change in his aura. It was as though the darkness of the dark lord had seeped into the room, drowning out all sense of light. His transformation was more than just physical, it was a palpable shift in the energy around them.

For a moment, Michael stood there, almost lost in the persona of the Dark Lord. Then, with a blink of realization, he snapped out of it and quickly returned to his original form. The air in the room instantly lightened, and Michael's warm presence washed over Hope again.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Michael apologized, looking down at her with concern. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I think I got a little too caught up in the moment."

Hope shook her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "You didn't frighten me, Michael. Well... okay, maybe a little," she admitted with a chuckle, "but it was pretty impressive! That was like... really good! If I didn't know you, I'd have thought he had stepped right out of Mordor."

Michael smiled, relieved, though he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had come with the transformation. "Do you think the children at the party would be too frightened if I did something like that?" he asked, half-serious, half-amused.

Hope raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the thought. "The kids? Michael, I think you'd terrify the adults. Maybe tone it down just a little bit for the party? Or there are always other options" She assured. 

Michael laughed softly. "Perhaps you are right. He may be too...overwhelming for simple school festivities," he conceded. "But it is interesting how easily I could step into it. It makes me wonder just how flexible this form of mine truly is."

Hope leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder as she smiled up at him. "Whatever you decide to go as, I'm sure it'll be amazing. And hey, if you want to be Sauron, maybe just keep it to the afterparty, once all the little witches and pups are out of the way."

Michael chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. "Noted," he replied, grateful once more for her lightheartedness. Despite the unsettling power he had just tapped into, Hope had a way of bringing him back to himself, grounding him in the present moment. And as Halloween approached, Michael found himself looking forward to celebrating, eager to experience more of the world he had chosen to remain a part of.

The next day.

The day of the Halloween party had finally arrived. Excitement buzzed through the Salvatore School as students of all ages prepared for the evening's festivities. Hope stood in front of the mirror, her expression thoughtful as Josie assisted in curling her hair. This year, Hope had chosen a more simplistic costume, a nod to a legendary children's story: Little Red Riding Hood.

"It's a classic," Josie said, finishing a curl with a flourish, grinning as she stepped back to admire her work. The bright red cloak draped over Hope's shoulders gave her a striking, bold look, with an air of mystery lurking beneath her innocent disguise.

Hope's eyes sparkled with amusement as she thought about the story. There was more depth to her choice than met the eye. Michael, who stood leaning against the doorframe, understood that, too. He could sense her feelings, the subtle intention behind her costume. To many at the school, she still carried the weight of her family's dark legacy, the "Big Bad Wolf" in the eyes of those who hadn't bothered to look closer. The irony wasn't lost on him, and neither was the subtle pain it brought to see her misjudged so often.

She glanced at him through the mirror, catching his thoughtful gaze. Michael's presence was a constant comfort, and the connection they had forged in these recent weeks was undeniable. He had been her rock, grounding her in ways no one else could.

Josie, sensing the quiet moment between them, tilted her head with curiosity. "So, Michael," she asked with a teasing smile, "what are you going as?"

Michael's lips twitched into a half-smile. He had overheard something Alaric had once said to a student. It lingered in his mind: "Live your own truth, and if those around you disagree with it, you can either change their mind, or your own."

That advice resonated deeply with him. Taking a quiet moment to concentrate, Michael let his wings unfurl and allowed the silvery-gilded armor he had seen in his fragmented dream to manifest around him. The armor gleamed with a divine light, tempered by his will so it didn't overwhelm the room. A golden laurel appeared atop his head, completing the regal, ancient look, a reflection of his true nature, one he was slowly beginning to understand.

Josie stared, wide-eyed with awe. "Wow. I wish it were always that easy to dress up," she quipped, marveling at the effortless way Michael transformed into a vision of celestial power.

Hope turned to look at him fully, her lips curling into a soft smile. "You're really going to steal the show," she teased, her tone light but her eyes full of warmth.

Michael shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think your Red Riding Hood might steal a few hearts tonight." His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze spoke volumes. There was something unspoken between them, a shared understanding that ran deeper than the playful banter.

Hope stepped closer, adjusting the edge of her cloak. "I think we'll make quite the pair," she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of humor and sincerity.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Michael replied, his voice soft, steady, and full of affection.

With Josie's help, they finished the last touches, and soon, they were ready to face the party, a night that promised fun, but also carried the weight of their truths, hidden behind the masks of celebration.

As they made their way to join the others, Michael kept his wings subtle, the divine aura just enough to add to the costume's effect without drawing too much attention. Hope, walking beside him, her red cloak trailing behind her, was more than ready for the night ahead. Together, they were stepping into a world that misunderstood them, but tonight, they would write their own stories. And for once, the Big Bad Wolf would be seen for who she truly was: a protector, a warrior, and someone who, despite her past, was determined to forge her own path.

The party was lively and buzzing by six o'clock, a true spectacle with its vibrant atmosphere. Tables were overflowing with an assortment of food, snacks, and drinks, strategically spread out between two separate areas. The younger kids had their designated space in the gymnasium, where faculty members had created a cozy, enclosed environment perfect for their spirited fun. Alaric, recalling his own high school years with a knowing smile, decided the high schoolers needed more freedom. He gave them full reign over the football pitch, trusting them to set it up as they saw fit. It became their playground, bathed in the glow of six large floodlights, casting the pitch in a soft clarity that made everything feel alive.

Hope, Michael, and Josie joined the festivities, blending in with the vibrant crowd as laughter and music filled the air. Lizzie, in her usual pseudo-leadership role, had taken the reins on organizing the entire event. To everyone's surprise—and begrudging admiration—she had done an excellent job. Even Hope, usually quick to challenge Lizzie's control, admitted she had pulled it off well.

With her characteristic flair, Lizzie quipped about needing "plenty of room for plastered teens to sprawl across the field later," drawing laughter from the group. The night felt full of promise and joy, the perfect setting for the Salvatore School's supernatural students to cut loose in a rare moment of carefree celebration.

"Aren't you just the sparkle of the party, handsome!" Lizzie quipped with a grin, gesturing to Michael's shining, celestial armor, his silver wings contrasting beautifully against the evening's festivities. She and Josie had opted for a shared costume, a striking combination of yin and yang: Lizzie in a sleek, space-age white jumpsuit, while Josie donned a regal, black renaissance-style gown. The contrast between the two was eye-catching, and Hope couldn't help but point out to Michael the concept of yin and yang, something unfamiliar to him.

"Yin and yang?" Michael repeated, curious. Hope explained, "It's a symbol of duality. Within darkness, there's light, and in light, darkness."

That idea intrigued him, pulling him into a brief moment of contemplation, his mind naturally slipping into the weighty themes of balance, light, and shadow—concepts he had been grappling with for some time. He gazed off for a moment, deep in thought.

"Oh no, you've broken him again," Kaleb joked as he arrived with MG. "Quick, get the screwdriver set."

Michael snapped back into the moment, giving Kaleb a bemused look. "I don't believe I am a machine," he responded with that innocent charm, then his gaze shifted to their outfits, sparking his curiosity. "But your costumes intrigue me. Who do you present?"

"The Prince, baby!" Kaleb said, striking a pose reminiscent of the iconic artist. "I forgot, you old, but you ain't that kind of old."

MG, standing beside him, smiled, "I just like the style. Can't go wrong with a little flair, right?"

Michael tilted his head slightly, his innocence showing through. "Prince, like royalty?" he asked, still trying to piece together the reference.

Kaleb laughed and gave him a friendly clap on the back. "Nah, man. The Prince, as in the artist. But don't worry, we'll introduce you to his music later. Trust me, you'll dig it."

The lighthearted exchange drew laughter from the group, and Michael nodded, amused by how much there was still to learn about this strange and fascinating world.

As the party wore on, the atmosphere became even more carefree, secret drinks passed between friends in small groups as laughter and banter filled the cool October night. Kaleb, MG, and Lizzie kept Michael busy with a steady stream of drink suggestions, eager to expose him to the fun side of their world. They handed him everything from fruity cocktails to potent shots, and although Michael managed to drink them down, the fiery burn of the stronger drinks nearly brought him to his knees, much to Hope's annoyance.

"Seriously, guys," she sighed, her patience thinning. "You should know better."

Kaleb and MG exchanged a conspiratorial glance, oblivious to Hope's warning as they whispered between themselves. "Did you forget the brownies? This will be hysterical," MG grinned.

"I GOT you, man," Kaleb responded coolly. "This man's about to have his world…well, heaven ROCKED!" With a smirk, Kaleb grabbed a tray of brownies from the nearby table and made his way over to Michael.

"Michael, you should try one of these," Kaleb said with faux innocence. "But a word of advice—let your barriers down, really enjoy the taste."

Michael eyed the brownies with curiosity. "What purpose do they serve in the culinary world?" he asked, always earnest.

"Ascension," MG replied with a mischievous smile, making Kaleb chuckle in anticipation. Hope, on the other hand, quickly caught on to their scheme.

"Nope! Absolutely not," Hope interrupted, her voice sharp as she tried to intercept, but it was too late—Michael had already plucked a brownie from the tray, curiosity getting the better of him.

He took a small, experimental bite, his eyes lighting up as the crunchy top gave way to a soft, gooey center. "These are quite divine," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "And I speak from experience."

Everyone but Hope burst into laughter, knowing full well what lay ahead. She sighed, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she gave in. "You might reconsider that in a few minutes," she warned gently, patting his shoulder. "But you'll pull through."

Michael looked at her quizzically, still unaware of the effects that were soon to follow, while Kaleb and MG exchanged high-fives, eager to witness what was about to unfold.

The effects hit Michael with the force of a divine smite, disorienting him completely as he dropped to his knees, feeling his muscles turn into what he could only describe as the same mashed potatoes that had accompanied his dinner the night before. Yet, amidst the overwhelming sensation, a deep calm settled over him, like his mind was detaching from the weight of the world, floating in serenity.

"How much did you put in?!" Hope scolded, rushing to help him to his feet, though his legs felt like jelly beneath him.

"Fifty grams, same as usual," MG said casually, though he shot a glance at Kaleb, whose grin faded slightly.

Kaleb blinked, suddenly realizing something was off. "Bro, I thought you said one-fifty... You need to get a better phone, man, that thing's got whack connection."

Michael, still struggling to stand upright, mumbled, "I thought I might die... but if that is the case... I die standing..." He paused, gazing at Hope with a dazed look in his eyes. "But it's all so calm, the same calm you bring me on those nights..." His words tumbled out, slow and unsteady, as the realization hit him—he'd just revealed something private in front of their friends.

Hope's face turned bright red, torn between half-happiness and half-mortification as she processed Michael's sweet, albeit mistimed, confession. Before she could respond, Lizzie, who was already halfway to being baked and much too intoxicated, let out a triumphant cry.

"I KNEW IT!" she shouted, wobbling slightly as she pointed at the pair, her laughter loud and boisterous.

Hope buried her face in her hands, half-smiling, while Michael, blissfully unaware of the chaos he had just unleashed, gave her a dreamy, peaceful look. Kaleb and MG exchanged sheepish glances, realizing they might've just gone a bit too far. 

The cool night air carried the distant hum of conversation and laughter from the pitch, where students still danced and celebrated under the glowing lights, one of the witches even going as far as to turn them into disco lights with a simple spell. But at the bleachers, the mood was quieter, more intimate, as Josie made her way over to where Michael and Hope now sat. The two boys, now somewhat repentant for their earlier mischief, had helped Michael to a seat, where he slumped back, clearly still feeling the effects of the brownies.

"Ever the thoughtful one," Hope muttered to herself, watching Josie approach, her steps purposeful but gentle.

Hope had already tried a spell earlier to alleviate the brownies' lingering influence on Michael, but despite her best efforts, it seemed to have only marginally affected him. Michael's head lolled to one side, his eyes heavy-lidded, glowing faintly gold, with thin, vein-like streaks of the same luminous hue threading through his eyes. It was a disorienting sight, both beautiful and unsettling, his golden blood subtly glowing under his skin.

"You...good fwend," Michael slurred, his voice carrying the sleepy, uncoordinated tone of someone deep in the grips of both an intoxicated and stoned haze. He leaned back, his head bumping into the steel frame behind him, making a soft, hollow *thunk* as he dented the metal slightly without realizing it.

Josie chuckled softly, unfazed, and sat beside him, her hands resting on her lap for a moment as she considered him. "Do you want me to try?" she asked gently, her eyes flicking to Hope for a moment. Her tone carried more than just concern, it carried the weight of an offer she was confident in, a quiet strength that had recently blossomed within her.

Hope hesitated, her own nerves tingling with uncertainty. She had seen the depth of Michael's magic and knew it was nothing to meddle with lightly. "Are you sure that's safe?" she asked, unable to hide her concern. "You don't know what his magic might do to you."

But Josie simply smiled, a quiet assurance in her expression that surprised Hope. "I have a core now, Hope," she said softly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "One he gave me."

Hope's expression shifted, surprise and a flicker of shock clouding her features. The weight of Josie's words settled heavily between them, filling the quiet night air with unspoken thoughts. A Siphoner's core was an intimate, deeply personal thing, something Hope knew only too well. The idea that Michael had given Josie this gift, however innocently, stirred conflicting emotions within her.

Josie's hands hovered over Michael's temples, her fingers glowing with a soft, golden light as she focused her energy. There was no need for an incantation, no verbal magic, just a quiet hum of power that radiated from her hands. The same golden light that danced in Michael's veins now connected with her own, drawing from her newfound strength.

Michael let out a soft groan as the haze began to lift, the disorienting fog slowly dissipating from his mind. He blinked, his vision clearing, his face still tired but no longer burdened by the heavy weight of intoxication. "Thank you," he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That was... unpleasant."

Josie returned his smile, a mixture of relief and warmth. "Thought I should return the favor," she replied, her voice light with amusement but laced with deeper meaning. "An arguably small one in the grand scale of things."

As Josie stood to leave, Hope's gaze followed her, confliction clear in her eyes. The weight of what Josie had just revealed gnawed at her thoughts. "You gave her power..." Hope murmured quietly, her voice half-lost in the noise of the party, but Michael heard her clearly.

He looked at her, his eyes soft and untroubled, the glow within them fading. "She bumped into me in the forest, early one morning," he explained, his tone tender as he recalled the memory. "She sought to understand my power. I simply manipulated the small speck she drew from me, made it self-sustaining, so she would no longer feel burdened by what she once saw as parasitic."

He smiled softly, reading the unease in Hope's expression. "I didn't mean to offend you. I only wanted to help her be free."

For a long moment, Hope didn't speak, the conflicting emotions of the past few minutes swirling in her chest. Josie's gratitude, Michael's innocent kindness, it was all so genuine, so heartfelt. But the intimacy of it, Michael sharing his power in such a personal way, was something she hadn't expected, and it tugged at a protective part of her heart.

She exhaled softly, her expression softening. "I don't think I could ever stay mad at you... but we'll see," she teased, a smile breaking through as she leaned in.

Michael, always so attuned to her emotions, chuckled softly, leaning in to meet her lips in a long, slow kiss. The weight of the night, the chaos, the laughter, the drinks, and the brownies, melted away in that moment. Their kiss was warm and reassuring, grounding them both in the here and now.

Around them, the other students noticed, and suddenly the quiet moment was interrupted by cheers and roars of approval from the still-lucid partygoers on the field. Laughter bubbled up as Hope and Michael pulled away, both chuckling softly at the crowd's reaction.

"Does Lizzie know?" Hope asked, her curiosity piqued.

Michael's smile remained, but there was a hint of playful secrecy in his eyes. "I left that to Josie's discretion."

Hope raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smirk. "Oh, this is going to be fun."