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This is a love story. Specifically, the love story of Sam Hain and Jess [REDACTED]1. One could say they were a match made in Hell – literally, because that’s where they met. No, they weren’t sinners being punished; it’s just where all Boogiepeople go to school.
It started when they were but tykes in Boogiekindergarten (which is indeed what it’s called). Sam wasn’t very popular among his peers. Part of it was the fact that while Boogiepeople came in all shapes and sizes, Sam’s pumpkin for a head – courtesy of having Headless Jack himself in his lineage – stuck out like a sore thumb. But most of it was because even at a young and tender age, he had a superiority complex that was abrasive to be around.
“I’m gonna be the best Boogieman ever!” he bragged on the playground one day. “You watch! I’m gonna be the next Guardian of Fear, actually! Pitch Black, watch out, ‘cause I’m comin’ for your – “
“Shut up, idiot!”
The small gang of bullies pushed him off the playground equipment. It was a good thing he fell just right to land in the sand below and didn’t impale himself on any of the wrought-iron fencing that is standard for Boogiechild playgrounds.
“Owwww!” Sam groaned. “That hurt like a mofo of shit!”
(He was at that age where curse words fascinated him but he didn’t quite know how to use them.)
“Hey, check out this idiot!” One of the bullies got closer to where Sam was rolling in the sand. “Whaddaya say we smash his head and make pumpkin soup?”
“I’LL RIP OUT YOUR GUTS!” Sam yelled, but a boot to his head forced him to submit, lying on the ground in actual fear that one of the stronger Boogiechildren would actually turn him into pulp.
Then there came a noise – Sam would forever think of it as an angel’s cry. It was more like a mix between a mountain lion’s scream and a cicada’s call.
“Oh, SHIT!” yelled the bully with his foot on Sam’s head, because he actually did know how to curse.
Enter Jess. Most Boogiepeople have some kind of defining feature that gives them away – clawed hands, patches of scales, extra eyes. Not Jess. Jess looked like a normal human, and that was part of why everyone feared them. Because everyone knew that looks were deceiving when it came to Jess.
“IT’S THE WEIRD KID!” someone else yelled. “SCATTER!”
First the bullies ran. Then Sam tried to scramble up to his feet and follow, but Jess was faster, catching his arm in an impossibly fast lightning strike. It didn’t really occur to Sam that Jess could’ve used the same speed to catch any of the other kids with the same precision.
“LEMME GO!” Sam yelled, flailing. “I SWEAR, I CAN SCARE YOU SO HARD YOUR BRAIN WILL FALL OUT OF YOUR BUTT, AND THEN YOU’LL BE SORRY!”
“Quiet,” Jess said coldly. “I’m not after you. I just SAVED you, dummy.”
“…Huh.” Sam fell still. “You did do that, didn’t you? Why? …I mean, it’s obvious WHY. Because I’m – “
“You’re obnoxious,” said Jess. “I like that. And you have no friends. Which means if I pick you to be my friend, you can’t say no.”
Jess had no friends either. Not at the time. They scared others of their own kind, which was quite the accomplishment, but also made for a lonely childhood.
See, at Hellementary, there were four bathrooms. Sam used the one marked “he/him.” Others used “she/her.” Jess could have technically gotten away with using the “they/them” bathroom. But Jess actually used the fourth room, the “E̷̠̗̰̙ͤ̌ͬ̋͆̍̊̊l̵̡̛̞̭̭̦̭͓͇̓̏ͭ͋͛̐ͫ̋ͨͣ͡ḑ̶̛̭̠̫̱ͦ̂ͨ͑̑ͨ͜͡ŕ͔̱̟̩̈ͩ̂ͥ͂̌́ͭ̎ͨͅǐ̶̷̵̵̸̡̨̡̛̛͈͉͈̮̜̣͍̰̻̞̮̗̙̝̒̽̈́̊̄ͥ̊̏ͩͩ̔ͪ̋̉͗̏̂̏̅̐͞͡ṭ̷̷̢̨̛̤͍̙̟̜̯̣̥̯͚̦̝̤̻̪̽͆́ͦ͋̅ͬͬ͋͆ͦ̂̏ͯͬͬ͢͢͟͝c̵̥̳͇̄̀̽̊͝h̹̄ E͇̙̟͇͍͌ͨ̾͌͜͞ͅn̛̫̜̍ͤ_͕̃̄͆̔ͮt͓͇͙̬͈̜̗͋͊̏ͭ̑ͫ͌̚͡͡ͅ_̭̥͍̙̙́́̎ì̸̴͔ͬ́͌t̵̶̡̯͙͎͈͚̭͍̰͉̬͋̒͗ͪͦ̓ͬ́ͫ̇͋̌ͣͯ̉ͩ͂̓̇͐̿͆͌̇ͥ͜͡͞͠͝y̶̷̼̤̰̤͉̞̖̭͍͕̭͔͇̘͓͚̗̰̗̰͖̹̠͇͍ͩ̂́ͥ̀̑̇͗̀̂̒̔̏̇͐ͮ̌̑̇͟ “ bathroom. And the Boogiepeople who qualified for that label were feared even by other, slightly less Eldritch entities.
“I could if I wanted!” Sam fired back. But he actually was desperate for friends. “But I don’t wanna. So there.”
“Good. We’re going to hang out now. Because I said.”
“Okay, but I get to pick what we do!”
“I never agreed to – “
“We’re gonna stink-bomb the principal’s office and then hit him with a cheap jumpscare. It’s gonna be hilarious.”
“Who said you got to pick the – “
Sam had broken Jess’ grasp and was leading the way. And Jess, despite their outward protests, couldn’t help but be intrigued enough to follow. It did sound like a hilarious idea, after all.
Fast forward to Tartarus High, where a much older Sam and Jess were sat across from yet another principal.
“To say I’m disappointed is…an understatement,” sighed said principal, an Erinye with reptilian features. “We may be schooling the next generation in strikers of fear into the hearts of mortals, but we uphold a standard of dignity while we do so.”
“We didn’t do it,” Jess huffed, monotone, for about the fifteenth time.
“It was a total frame-up job,” Sam said confidently. “I dunno what idiot is out there loosing hellhounds in the hallways, but it wasn’t us. …Did you ever find Hellhound #3, by the way?”
“There is no Hellhound #3,” the principal sighed. “This is the oldest trick in the book. You labeled the creatures 1, 2, and 4 to give the illusion that there is a missing one we haven’t found. Also, you signed each label ‘Sam Hain was here.’”
“All the more proof I didn’t do it!” Sam argued. “Would I REALLY be so dumb as to write my own name on a prank like that? Somebody’s trying to put the heat on me! And to make it worse, you dragged Jess in here for no reason!”
“I refuse to speak without a lawyer,” Jess punctuated.
The principal sighed. “This isn’t some downtrodden public institution like Monster High. Our school has a proud reputation. The Grim Reaper himself – “
“A boring stiff,” Sam grumbled. “Was never the same after that limbo contest.”
“The holder of Horror’s Hand – “
“Laziest Boogieman ever,” Sam commented. “Next.”
“The god of pestilence headed up our cheerleading team, once upon a time – “
“THAT suburban loser?” Sam laughed. “Surprised he finally got laid. Oh, look at all the scary stuff he accomplishes living in his picket-fence house with his wife and kid.”
“Hecate herself walked these halls!”
“She’s just a bitch.”
“The rising star of our theater department graduated to the Pit of Hate – “
“And got obliterated in an alternate timeline? Pfft. Amateur hour.”
“And the Spider Queen herself – SAM, DON’T YOU DARE MAKE ONE MORE COMMENT ABOUT ANY OF OUR ALUMNI.”
“Then I will,” said Jess. “The Spider Queen is too sentimental and softhearted. I could stamp her under my shoes in an instant.”
“This – THIS is why you’re here!” the principal raged. “Because every single time Sam Hain puts a toe out of line, you’re always the first to enable his – his – “
“Bullshit?” Jess filled in.
“SHENANIGANERY!” the principal corrected.
“Listen,” Jess huffed. “Do you have proof or not? Besides the name. Like Sam said. That could’ve been a red herring. Allegedly. But I can’t name suspects without a lawyer present.”
“That’s enough proof – “
“Do you REALLY want our families to know you brought us here for interrogation over a crime we didn’t commit?” Jess leaned forward, their eyes glinting with a dangerous spark.
Even the staff knew better than to push Jess too far. “Well…eheh…no…”
“Then we’re leaving.” Jess stood up. “We’re already late to class. If Sam and I fail Die-ology because you kept us from hearing a lecture, it’s on your head.”
There was nothing the principal could do but let them leave.
Once they were out of the office, Jess punched Sam in the forearm.
“Ow!” Sam choked. “I mean, uh…that didn’t hurt. What was that for, anyway?”
“Because I told you not to sign your name on it,” Jess huffed. “Idiot. And I also told you the whole missing #3 thing wasn’t gonna cut it. But about that second part, I went and fixed it when you weren’t looking.”
“What do you mean you FIXED it?”
“Well…”
The principal sighed, opening a desk drawer to grab a pen. Instead, she gripped a hissing and angry Mamba du Mal with a paper that read “#3” taped around its midsection.
As her screams rang out through the hallways, Sam practically laughed his pumpkin head off. “SERIOUSLY? God, Jess, you’re a riot.” He slapped Jess on the back playfully.
They smirked in return, but only briefly, because they always felt a little embarrassed about letting on too much that they liked Sam’s “shenaniganery.”
“Anyway, we’re so cutting Die-ology,” Sam went on. “Whaddaya think: Hell Mall or get sloshed on pumpkin spice? Or should we get spicy and cause an unsolved cold case in the mortal realm?”
“…I like unsolved cold cases,” Jess muttered.
On their way out of the school, they passed a few cherubs hooking up red streamers and garish paper hearts: a reminder that Valentine’s Day was nigh.
“Ugh, what a fuckin’ waste of a holiday,” Sam groaned. “It’s for losers, am I right?”
“I literally can’t argue.”
They graduated Tartarus High, somehow, and applied to the prestigious Boogieman Academy to hone their craft. As far as Sam was concerned, scaring was his life’s purpose and Halloween his reason for existence. It was his very namesake! There was no way any self-respecting college for Boogiemen could turn him down.
And if they did, he would throw himself off a bridge and into a wood chipper that was aimed to spray on a bunch of schoolchildren on a field trip.
The letters from the Academy arrived for both of them at the same time, and Sam wheedled Jess into coming over so they could open them together. He even set up a little snack buffet for them both – eyeballs on toothpicks and a punch bowl of the red stuff – to keep from thinking about how he might just actually be afraid of what that letter said.
Jess showed up, a little surprised to see all the snacks laid out but not one to say no to free food. They put a dead rat in their mouth while holding up their envelope. “So. Get it over with?”
“What’s to get over with?” Sam scoffed, holding up his own. “I already know what MINE says. Oh, I get it! You’re worried you got rejected. I mean, they wouldn’t reject an Eldritch entity like you, but I get that you’re scared. It happens to the best of us.”
“I’m not afraid,” Jess said. “Open your letter.”
“But Jess, if you DID get rejected, just know this doesn’t change my opinion of you one bit. You’re still my bestest pal and the greatest thing to happen to this planet since leprosy.”
“I’m starting to think you’re the one who’s afraid. Open your damn letter, Sam.”
“And just know that even though it means the public eye considers me infinitely scarier than you, it doesn’t mean – “
Jess sliced their envelope open. Though they appeared to use their fingernail, the cut had the speed and precision of a scalpel. Then they pulled out the letter and unfolded it. “I’m in,” they said casually.
“YOU’RE IN!” Sam cheered. “…You’re in?” His own doubts were now stronger than ever. “I mean – that’s great, Jess! Now all that’s left is to confirm what we already know, that we’re off to the races together, but let’s just build a little more dramatic tension first, maybe a drumroll – “
Jess swiped his letter.
“HEY NOW. YOU’RE NOT JUST GONNA SKIP MY DRUMROLL – “
They sliced it open. Pulled out the paper core inside. “You’re in too.”
“…You sure?” Sam blurted. “I mean, YEAH, we all knew it!”
Jess turned the acceptance letter around to face him so he’d know they weren’t lying.
“AW, HELL YES!” Sam pumped his fist and went off into a little happy dance around the room. “YES YES YES – “ He froze. “I mean. Totally predictable.” He flopped down into a chair like there was nothing to be thought of it.
Jess pulled their chair over next to his and punched his forearm – but lightly and lovingly. “I’d ask if you’re ready, but let’s be real. THEY’RE not ready for US.”
“You said it, sweetheart!”
Jess grimaced.
“Whoa,” Sam realized. “Wrong choice of nickname. Just kinda slipped out.”
“…Good,” said Jess. “I don’t go in for that mushy stuff and you know it.” They paused. “Except that whole Bonnie and Clyde thing. Their story gets to me sometimes.” They held up another speared snack. “Rat?”
“Hell yeah!”
Except that Boogieman Academy was a lot harder than Sam had thought it would be. He had a particular recurring problem: while he knew he was the scariest thing around, all his professors and classmates seemed to agree that he somehow wasn’t scary at all. That he was…funny, actually.
(“And that might be how they do things in backwater towns like Monstropolis, but here at Boogieman Academy, there isn’t room for COMEDY.”)
And so it was that under a beautiful stormy sky, on what should have been the perfect midnight for causing mayhem, Sam Hain found himself sitting on a bench beside the path between campus buildings, staring forlornly at the papers in his hands. Failing marks. Admonishments written in blood-red pen, that he’d better come up with one amazing final thesis project or “re-evaluate whether you really belong here at Boogieman Academy.”
And the more he read over the damning words, the more he couldn’t help it – a pumpkin seed fell from one eye.
“Holy shit. Are you crying?”
Jess stood before him suddenly, having appeared out of practically nowhere.
“Wha – NO!” Sam clutched the soggy papers to his chest. “The sun was in my eye!”
“It’s midnight and it’s raining.”
“…”
Jess sat down next to Sam. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”
They knew they weren’t much of one for comfort, but they still couldn’t leave him in this much distress.
“I’m literally not leaving this bench until you cough it up,” Jess went on.
Sam responded by coughing a couple times, reaching into his mouth-hole, pulling out a bloodstained dagger, and grinning wickedly. “That coughed up enough for ya?”
Jess had to very quickly slap a hand over their mouth so Sam wouldn’t catch them beginning to wheeze –
“Holy fuck, YOU’RE laughing!”
“No I’m not,” Jess murmured from behind their hand. They forced a stony expression, then took their hand off their mouth and put it on Sam’s shoulder.
They sat there in silence for a while before Sam said “Sooooooo I might be failing at everything. You know, even though Halloween is my reason for living and scaring’s all I ever wanted to do in my life. Could even be on the brink of expulsion. But that’s all it is. No big deal or anything.”
There was longer silence as Jess took it all in, knowing exactly what kind of pain this was bringing Sam.
“I mean, I should’ve seen this coming when Grandpa Jack went into the rave business,” Sam went on. “Sure, I laughed at ‘Scravecrow,’ we all did, but it just runs in the family, doesn’t it? We’re not built for the Halloween life. We’re just a bunch of comics and cheap party hosts.”
“Bullshit,” said Jess. “You were made for Halloween. I don’t think I know anyone who’s more made for it.”
“What, ‘cause I have a pumpkin for a head?”
“Because you have the passion for it, dumbass. If they can’t see that, that’s their problem, not yours. Besides. You’re always one of, like, three houses in our neighborhood to get spared by the Bureaucrat every year. That’s objective proof that this is totally your thing.”
Then it was back to silence, but less of an awkward one.
Sam then cleared his throat. “So, how was your day? I could use a distraction.”
He almost actually felt guilty about not having asked until he’d gotten his own business out of the way first.
“Been working on unlocking alternate forms to use to terrify the shit out of mortals,” Jess said casually. “I can show you, but you will get jealous. That’s not me bragging.”
“Eh. Let me be jealous. Show me whatcha got!”
Jess stood up and rolled their shoulders back, facing up into the rain with closed eyes. Then they began to morph.
The shape they took was barely comprehensible by logical standards. It was part insect and part feline, large and dark with many legs and clawed feet. They bore both fangs and mandibles at the same time. They also tripled in size, towering over Sam on his bench. Turning two luminous eyes upon him, they let out their signature screech – a mountain lion’s scream combined with a cicada’s cry.
“WHOA, NELLY!” Sam had to admit he was more than impressed. He even forgot to be jealous. “That’s one HELL of a final boss form!”
Then, all at once, Jess was human-shaped again. “So, yeah, hoping to give at least one guy a heart attack with that one.”
“Are you KIDDING?” Sam leapt up, spreading his arms out. “You’d make an entire retirement home flatline with that show!”
“…Are you going to hug me? Don’t.”
Sam then realized that was, actually, what he’d been about to do for reasons he didn’t even understand. He tucked both hands behind his back. “Uh, no. ‘Course not.”
“Anyway,” Jess said, and didn’t continue.
“Anyway,” Sam picked up. “Campus café closes in fifteen minutes. Wanna slide in at two minutes to closing, sit our asses down at the center table, and force them to stay open an extra half hour while we refuse to leave?”
“Sure. Sounds fun. My treat.”
And all that evening, during their time at the café, Sam noticed something odd: that his heart was fluttering. A murmur? Was he about to be the first Boogieman to have his career cut short because of congenital heart disease? No, that didn’t make sense – dying didn’t even kill Boogiemen, not really. The murmur seemed to get worse whenever he fixed his glowing eye-holes on Jess’ sardonic glare, though. And the weirdest part was he didn’t want it to stop.
He didn’t tell them. Something told him to keep it quiet. And later, when he realized what he’d been feeling, he would feel relieved that he hadn’t blown it too soon.
He wasn’t sure yet if it was just a crush. Something physical. After all, Sam wasn’t exactly known for being socially withdrawn, nor for being the campus virgin – whenever he could convince a date that he was actually suave. (He was usually dumped when his dates found out how annoying he actually was.) If he was just attracted to Jess for their body (or at least the body they chose to present to the public), then he’d ride it out and it would fade. He couldn’t afford to have misplaced lust ruin his oldest friendship, after all.
Over time, though, the feelings seemed to grow, and it wasn’t just the heart murmurs, nor the occasional ill-timed erection that would show up from time to time. It was about the fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off Jess whenever they were together. That he could listen to them go on for an hour about Spookiometry and actually enjoy paying attention to it. That he felt understood by them in a way no one else could…and actually, in a rare burst of empathetic cognizance, thought that it might be nice if he could make Jess feel understood too.
He heard them in every corny vintage love song. Whether by Journey, Speedwagon, or Chicago, it was always Jess – Jess who he’d come to with open arms. Jess who he was going to keep on lovin’. Jess who was, well, the inspiration.
He even started turning down dates. He wasn’t even conscious of the reason why, at first. A very pretty Boogiewoman caught his eye and flirted with him and he rejected her immediately, and only afterward asked himself why he’d even do that, because she’d been gorgeous. He should’ve turned up the charm! But it was like he didn’t want to ruin something else by getting a girlfriend.
Eventually, he knew exactly what it was he was trying not to ruin: a romantic relationship that hadn’t even happened yet.
It was around this time that he started wondering how he could get this off his chest, because he and Jess would make a power couple, actually. And they always had been smoking hot. And there was no one better to call when Sam needed to hide a body.
But there were other things that had his attention, such as his failing grades. That thesis project needed to be mind-blowing. Something that would truly embody the spirit of Halloween, and in the ancient pagan tradition, not in this silly, sanitized trick-or-treat way the kids practiced these days!
(He could almost understand how they’d driven Grandpa Jack to become Scravecrow.)
That was it. He’d incorporate the very history of Halloween into his thesis. He would retell it from the beginning. Sure, he didn’t quite remember all the facts from history class, because he’d dozed through half of it, but he knew enough! It was…started by a guy named O’Ween, right? Hence the name.
But the history of Halloween wasn’t even the point. The point was he was going to make a cursed tape. The sort where you’d watch it and die in seven days, except without the actual dying part, because you could get so much more mileage out of scaring people who were still alive. He’d act out the history of Halloween (and maybe cast some hostages in the supporting roles), put it all on film, and put the film on a cursed tape. He could even use a customized scare at the end – something that would allow him to infiltrate the home of the viewer! That would put naysayers to rest!
And so he began production on All-oween About Halloween. Surely the greatest project to ever grace the halls of the Boogieman Academy.
Of course, he had to get Jess involved in part of it. He needed to harvest several pumpkins (“And I do mean a metric SHITTON of pumpkins”) for his project. There wasn’t time to grow them from scratch, so he hatched a plan to steal them from a patch.
“This is a stupid idea,” Jess told him. “If you get caught, you’re gonna get turned into a pumpkin spice latte. No WAY you actually need this many pumpkins for your video. Also…wouldn’t it make more sense to use those squashes that mortals call pumpkins? The ones your head is shaped like? I don’t think they GET how our pumpkins look.”
“If it’s so stupid,” Sam asked, “then why’d you come along with me, and why are you sitting outside the property line with me, trying to figure out a way to break in?”
Jess didn’t have an answer for that one at first. Well, they did, and it was something about Bonnie and Clyde, but they figured if they said that, Sam might think this was something romantic. And it totally wasn’t. (And he had no business reminding them of the world’s most famous crime couple anyway. Just like he had no business on those days that he looked impossibly cute for no reason. Jess normally hated cute and had no idea why Sam could get away with it.)
Eventually, they were able to make up a reason, and it seemed like the obvious excuse from the start: “To stop your dumb ass from getting drawn and quartered.”
“Eh, fair.”
They were the first to vault the fence, landing in the pumpkin patch. All the eyeballs of the pumpkins shifted to watch them. Sam then followed, nearly slipping and falling as he crested the fence’s apex but catching himself just in time. One of the pumpkins tried to bite him and he kicked it in the teeth.
Jess put a finger to their lips and began to steal through the patch, stopping before a thick cluster of pumpkins and sawing at their vines. Sam was quick to hurry up with the basket he’d brought for collection.
One of the pumpkins started thrashing, putting up a real riot. It would’ve alerted the owner of the farm had Jess not…reached for it with one arm, doing something Sam couldn’t perceive, and crushed its entire skull in a bloody shower.
“Hey, I could’ve used that one!” Sam hissed.
“There are hundreds here,” Jess shot back.
Any time a pumpkin got feisty, Jess would put it out of its misery – running it through with an invisible knife, turning its face inside out. The more docile ones were loaded into the basket.
Finally, they had enough. “Okay,” Jess whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”
And Sam, in what was far from his finest hour, bellowed out “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!”
The lights in the farmhouse all blazed on at once.
“SAM,” Jess hissed.
“Oh…shit,” Sam realized.
There was the sound of a gunshot as the farm’s owner yelled out, “THE HELL ARE YOU BOOGIEKIDS DOING IN MY PUMPKIN PATCH? TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT!”
“Run,” said Jess, and Sam couldn’t agree more.
They bolted, ducking for cover in the adjacent cornfield. Sam dropped the basket, in all the commotion, and didn’t even care. They lost sight of one another, and after running so far, Sam began to actually worry. Jess could handle themself, right? They were unstoppable. An Eldritch-class Boogieperson. Nothing could kill –
There was the sound of a rustle, a scuffle. A gunshot. A screech that was distinctly mountain-lion-meets-cicada.
Sam froze. No. Couldn’t be. Jess wouldn’t go out like that. But his very blood felt like ice and he couldn’t take another step. If he’d lost Jess out here on a routine burglary –
There was a closer rustle. Finally, he found the energy to move again, and whirled around. “I’m warning you, I’m gonna make you PAY for what you did to – “
“Calm down.” Jess emerged unscathed. “It’s me.”
“JESS!” Sam did a double take. “But I thought – you – there was that scream and all – “
This time, he couldn’t stop himself from hugging them. Jess, surprisingly, didn’t stop it.
“I ripped that guy a new one,” Jess explained. “…Literally. He fired. And he missed. …Did you SERIOUSLY think I got shot? You know that wouldn’t even scratch me, right? Anyway. He’s going to the hospital tomorrow morning. Let’s make tracks and hope he doesn’t press charges.”
“…Yeah,” Sam said, quickly disengaging from the hug. “Knew you had this in the bag.”
Jess lingered in front of him a moment. Then, surprisingly, put out one hand and patted him on the back twice – like they wanted to return the hug but was too repulsed by the idea to commit. “Knew you wouldn’t. I might’ve been scared you were the one who I’d find pulped. MIGHT have. Anyway, we’re leaving.”
Were they…trembling a little, when they’d said the word “pulped”?
Jess took off at a quick pace through the corn row, and Sam was frozen stiff in silence for a moment. Then he tried to take a step and had his attention drawn to the fact that he was stiff in more ways than one.
He just couldn’t help it – he had a very clear mental image of Jess in their more monstrous visage (except for the parts that were incomprehensible by the conscious mind) ripping a few tentacles off the guy with the gun. And it was hot. Hotter than any pair of harpy wings (or harpy breasts) he’d ever seen.
“Sam. Are you COMING?”
There was a double entendre to be made there, but Sam decided against it. Instead, he turned somewhat to the side to hide his reaction. “Yeah, yeah, on my way!”
“And don’t think I didn’t notice your adrenaline boner. I’m not sure why you’re trying to hide it. It’s not a surprise.”
Because it wasn’t adrenaline, Sam thought. Because it was tied directly to Jess. But adrenaline would work as a cover story.
He caught up to them. “Shit. We left the basket. I’m just gonna double back – “
“NO, YOU’RE NOT.”
They climbed the fence again, and at the fence peak, Sam lingered just long enough to look back across the fields and yell “AND YOU CAN TELL ‘EM SAM HAIN WAS THE ONE WHO KICKED YOUR ASS!”
Jess just seized the back of his cloak and literally pulled him down off the fence to follow them to civilization.
Anyway, All-oween About Halloween was a massive failure, and Sam Hain was stripped of his Boogieman license and expelled from the Academy.
The details were too humiliating for him to recount. However, they can be found in file 6592 of the SCP Foundation.
He didn’t tell Jess. He left campus quietly and waited for a new opportunity to arise where he could express himself. Become Sam Hain again.
Well, the thing is that without his studies in the way, he could actually concentrate on his feelings. As far as he was concerned, there was really one thing in the world left for him, and he wasn’t gonna blow it. They had to know his feelings, once and for all. And then they’d say they always loved him too and the two of them would make out. That was how this had to end, right?
…But what if they didn’t?
Sam spared no expense. He knew that lovebirds and flowers and hearts were romantic, and also that Jess liked flesh dimensions and those two criminals. He combined it all into a truly impressive display, with the song he’d come to think of as Jess’ as the cherry on top, and the Foundation has that on file too.
They said “Can I get back to you on that?” and left via the Kooky Exit, and that brings us to where we are today.
Jess called Sam on the phone. This was not a decision made lightly, but rather after three hours of wanting to do exactly that and chickening out.
Jess may have been the scariest thing they knew of, but that didn’t mean they didn’t also get scared, when certain things were on the line. Such as the fact that Sam was the constant in their life, the person they could always count on. He was selfish, sure, but they kind of liked getting to look after him, because he sure needed someone to watch his step. Truth be told, they found his quirkiness hilarious, and he was a light in their otherwise stoic life. But were they really meant to be more than friends?
Here was the truth: if Jess had fully been sure that the answer was no, they would have said no. Actually, they would have said “Sam, this is fucking bullshit. Don’t call me again unless it’s to apologize. And I better NEVER see the inside of another fleshy Tunnel of Love again.”
But they didn’t feel that way. It wasn’t bullshit, and they were maybe more than a bit impressed that Sam had gone out of his way to construct a flesh tube for them to ride through, and added that stupid song that they couldn’t admit they loved.
Sam had been their Clyde. Or maybe their Bonnie. That much was clear. Jess had been fighting feelings of their own – heart-flutters and other, more not-safe-for-work sensations – for a while now. What was really stopping them from just…making the two of them a thing?
Fear of rejection. Fear that he’d get tired of them the way he used to treat his college flings. Fear that this would ruin their friendship.
Well, they were on their way to graduate with a Master’s in Fear. Fear was their plaything. Dare they say, their bitch. Forget the fear. They punched in the number so quickly that they couldn’t change their mind.
A familiar rasp on the other end: “Yello?”
“Sam. It’s Jess.”
“JESS?” Sam quickly cleared his throat. “So, uh, about what we were talking about…in the tunnel…on Valentine’s Day…did you, uh…did you think about it?”
“I did,” Jess said, their voice cool and even and not even betraying a bit of the tumult that was raging inside of them.
“…And?”
They could practically feel the tension. Obviously Sam was nervous about this, too. With their throat dry, they finally said it: “This might as well happen.”
“…That’s a yes, right?”
“That’s a yes.” A pause. “I might love you. Kind of. Do NOT tell anyone. I’ll kick your ass.”
“Hey, I…I love you too,” Sam said without a moment’s hesitation and suspiciously calmly. “Can you, uh…give me a minute?”
“Sure.”
There were then the unmistakable sounds of Sam setting down the phone gently, stepping a few paces away, and then breaking out into a wild dance of celebration while whooping “WOOOO, THEY SAID YES, THEY SAID YESSSS!”
It was a good thing they were speaking via phone, else Sam would have seen that Jess was honestly smiling – not a smirk, not a hidden grin, not a flash in the pan, but a real smile. That would have killed Jess, if he’d seen that they were capable of doing that.
…Or would it? Maybe they wanted him to see their smile one day.
Sam grabbed up the phone. “I’m coming over to your place now so we can make out. That cool?”
“No.”
“Uh…why not?”
“I’m not home,” Jess admitted. “I called you from the pay phone outside your new place. …You live in a dump, by the way.”
“Thank you! Also – WHAT?”
Sam ran to the dingy, smeared window and pulled the curtain aside. Jess quickly ditched the smile in time; when he saw them at the nearby phone, they put up a hand.
“So anyway, I’m coming in YOUR dump of a house so we can make out,” Jess corrected.
“Back window’s open,” said Sam.
There was the sound of a commotion, of an intruder breaking through the other window. Sam was momentarily distracted, then looked back outside, and Jess was gone, the pay phone receiver off the hook.
He turned back around and they were standing right behind him, looking more vulnerable than they ever had in their life.
“One more thing,” they said. “I loved the song.”
Then they tackled him, and their lips crashed into his cut-out mouth.
1Like I’m letting you dumbasses have my government name. The Foundation aren’t the only ones who can redact information, idiots.