 The sun set quickly across the sky, casting a blood red hue that only the fall can give. The moon that rose up in its place gave everything another worldly feel. Snaps of cold wind blew through the trees, shaking the dead leaves like a giant maraca. Witches, ghosts, and all sorts of creatures happily skipped through the streets, swinging their bags full of candy. James envied these children as they celebrated Halloween, full of excitement and wonder as children should be. His son was not among them. Soon, he whispered under his breath. He made his way towards the outskirts of town, passing by more children as they laughed and chattered. It served as a reminder of what he'd lost, stinging his heart again and again. Thankfully, they began to thin out as he approached his destination. The wrought iron gate came into view, growing taller as he came closer. With the light of the moon, he could dimly make out the landscape beyond, as if it were trying to hide from the world. It was a dreadful place, and silhouettes both short and long stood at odd intervals. Their imposing shadows stretched out across the grass, making him feel very unwelcome. As the moon rose even higher, he arrived at the cemetery gate. He could hear a dog barking off in the distance, and he looked at the padlock that held fast, a thick line of chain. It would be a sought-out destination for the older kids in town tonight, so he wasn't too surprised to find it locked. He hoped to God there wouldn't be any kids here tonight. He needed to be alone, and he might not get another chance. James made his way down the sidewalk, trying to find another way in. The iron bars of the fence eventually turned into a wall of stone and mortar. It was still high, but he leapt up and was able to grab a hold at the top. James wasn't completely out of shape, but still he did struggle to pull himself up. His feet scraped against the stone, and he began to find purchase when he heard the excited chatter coming from down the road. A group of teenagers were loudly going on about their evening, as they made their way closer. In a surge of desperation, he scraped the underside of his forearms as he heaved himself up and over the top. He landed hard on the ground, just missing a small tombstone that stood only a foot or two away from his head. He breathed a sigh of relief as the group of voices came and went, leaving James unnoticed. He got up, dusted himself off, and turned his gaze to the land of the dead. He knew this cemetery well enough, as it was only yesterday that he had said his final goodbyes to his son at his funeral. At night, however, when shadows reigned, the entire place took on an alien appearance, tree branches groaned against the wind, and a cold fear gripped him as he took in the view. Taking another deep breath, James steeled himself for what was to come. He had to get this done, and nothing was going to stop him. Facing forward with his mind on his task, he walked between the gravestones with as much confidence as he could muster. Eventually, he got his bearings when he saw an old shed next to a long paved road. He made his way past and continued. Off in the distance, there came a sound, a clacking from the road ahead that was rapidly coming closer. James didn't have a weapon of any kind, so he braced himself, heart pounding, and waited. Around the bend in the road came a large dog. It stopped a few feet away, its tail slowly wagging. James looked at the dog and calmed himself. Go home, boy. He said quietly, go on now. The dog paused for a moment and then trotted off toward the treeline. When James reached the crest of the hill, he found the large stone building where the body of his son had been laid to rest. He walked over to the wide stone steps and then stopped. Happy memories of his boy flooded his mind. Those feelings then soured as tears filled his eyes. He thought of the ruined remains he was forced to look upon, the day Nathan was found. His son had always walked home from school as they only lived a few blocks away. When he never showed up, James went looking for him, then called the police. Three days later, his body was found stuffed behind a pile of bricks at a construction site outside of town. He was clearly murdered and was so horribly mutilated that James could only identify him by the black and green checked shirt he'd worn to school. It was a closed casket funeral and having lost his wife to an aneurysm 10 years prior, the attendance was small. It was at the funeral that the odd man approached him. He was dressed in a long gray coat and a wide brimmed hat set atop a head full of gray hair. The strange man kept to himself as Nathan's coffin was placed in the tomb. The entrance was sealed and what few friends and family came began to shuffle out. Before long, it was just James and the man. James began to walk out as well, pulling out a pack of cigarettes to light one. He searched his pockets for a lighter. The man picked up on this and approached handing him a book of matches. I am truly sorry for your loss. He said lost in grief. James just gave him a quick nod and thanked him as he sparked one of the sticks. Always sad when a father outlives his child. But it doesn't have to be that way. Please. I don't know who you are, but can you just leave? Reply James. In time I shall. However, first I must insist you hear my offer. There is a way for your son to come back. James creased his eyebrows at this. Clearly the man was insane and this nonsense was getting on his nerves. I think you better just go. Who the hell are you anyway? What possible reason could you have for being at my son's funeral? Why, I'm a friend, Mr. Monroe. You may call me Nikolai. Be aware, Mr. Monroe, that I am offering you the chance of a lifetime. Tomorrow is October 31st, the celebration you know of as Halloween. On this day, the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest. This is the only chance you will ever have. The instructions are here, marked in this book. Follow these instructions precisely and you can have your boy back. And I do mean precisely. James allowed the book to be placed in his hands. Again, I urge you to follow the instructions to the letter or things could go bad. Now I will take my leave, Mr. Monroe. Good day. Said the man as he tipped his hat, then walked away. James looked down at the old leather bound book in his hand. He knew it was a false promise, but he took the book home with him. And as the day went by, he found himself wondering, what if he missed Nathan terribly and he would give anything to have him back. When Halloween came the following day, James had made his decision. So here he was, standing in front of the mausoleum in a graveyard. The door was locked with a thin chain, but that was snapped easily enough. He opened the door and peered into complete darkness. It was as if he'd opened a void that would swallow him up like he never existed at all. He took a breath and stepped inside, his footsteps echoing through this place of rest, loud enough to wake the dead, he thought. He made his way toward the back, where the light of the moon shone through a high arched window and stood in front of the stone seal on which was inscribed his son's name. Running his hand along the sandblasted letters, he wrapped his fingers around the sides and began to pull. The sealing putty hadn't yet hardened and it wouldn't for another few months. Even still, it was a difficult task, but after a few minutes it began to give way. The slab fell to the floor with a resounding shatter of stone and he looked into the dark tomb where Nathan's coffin lay. It was heavy, but with some effort he managed to pull the coffin out, guiding it to the floor as gently as possible. After releasing the locks, he lifted the lid engaged painfully at the destroyed face of his son. Tears filled his eyes, making it difficult to read, but he opened the book and read the instructions once more. Number one, place five candles around the body to make the points of a star then light the candles. Number two, anoint the head with oil. And number three, place your hand upon the chest and recite the words. Inside the cover of the book, James had found two carved slots. In one was a small vial of amber oil. In the other, a long wooden match. The wood of the matchstick was painted entirely black. This was a hard process for James. The feeling of the oil on his fingers made him queasy, but he touched it to the cold forehead of his beloved son. Then he lit the candles one after the other and cleared his throat. As he began to speak, the door out front banged open, making him jump. He looked to the left, not sure what to expect. And the dog from earlier made its way up to him. Go. He said, you can't be here. The dog looked up at him for a moment, then walked over to one corner where he curled up and sat. The eyes of the dog on him made him feel guilty somehow. But he continued with his morbid task. Per Mido Legion, a Cypher, a Nemom, Philemae, Nemo Seat, Inter Illum, Obscurum Inter Fasron. The odd words rang through the empty building. And at first, nothing happened. James looked fearfully down at his son's dead body, hoping that it would and wouldn't rise. Silence filled the mausoleum. Fear turned to disappointment and anger as he threw the book across the room. James was close to completely losing it. When he heard a crackling sound, something like water rapidly freezing, then a violent explosion erupted in front of him. As if the air itself were ripped open, a blue window to somewhere else was presented. Through the window, he could make out a forest of dead trees. And yes, the face of a child. It was Nathan. The air around him stirred as a tall figure stepped through the entrance. It was Nicolai from the funeral. Still wearing his heavy coat and wide-brimmed hat, James couldn't see his face. As he squinted, Nicolai's deep voice boomed out. Mr. Monroe, I must thank you for all your work. What is this? How do I get my son out of there? He said. His face remained hidden, but his eyes began to glow the bright red of an electric burner. The man walked slowly to the open casket and bent down to stroke what remained of the boy's cheek. Once more, he rose, then lifted a hand to the portal. This is the gateway to Purgatory. When a person dies, their soul goes here to be judged on the way to their final destination. Only a human may open this door. So, if I walk through there, I can get Nathan? Presumably, yes. However, you were never opening it for yourself. And I doubt you'd survive the terrors that call it home. What do you mean? You should really brush up on your Latin, Mr. Monroe. What I mean is, without the guidance of God to protect you, the evils that dwell in the dark reaches of Purgatory will rip you apart and drag you to hell. Normally, a child his age is automatically brought to heaven's gate. And as the Bible says, I will fear no evil for thou art with me. However, when you spoke the words from that book as his guardian, you granted me access to his soul. James was stunned into silence. What are you? He whispered. Nikolai began to chuckle, the tone rapidly dipping down multiple octaves, the coat he wore burst open and leathery wings spread out. The hat fell to the ground as the large horns of a ram pushed out of his skull. His already imposing body doubled in size, and before him stood a demon whose appearance was straight out of a Renaissance painting. I couldn't have done it without you. However, I'm sorry to say that your usefulness has come to an end. You will join your son in everlasting torment. He growled. The demon made its way toward him on unnaturally long legs, and James had a thought. You might call it a Hail Mary. You tricked me. You got what you wanted for me. Can I at least have a last request? Let me have one last cigarette. The demon paused, considering. Very well, but be quick about it. James pulled his lighter out, and when it sparked to life in one quick movement, he reached for the book, set it alight, and threw it onto his son's body, which quickly became engulfed in flames. No. It hissed, but it was too late. The portal began to vanish. James was able to take one last glance at his son, and then the demon was on him. The weight of it crushed his body and sharp claws ripped at his flesh. The dog that had taken its place in the corner rose up growling and snapping. It lunged at the demon, sinking teeth into its forearm. The demon threw the dog off, then shrieked at James. You may have saved your son's soul, but this is not over. In time, I will find another human willing to open the portal. Rest assured, I will find another. And with that, the demon was gone. James lay still on the stone floor. After a few minutes had passed, the silence was broken by the soft clicking of nails as the dog patted over to him. It wind softly, then laid down, leaning against him. James slowly moved his hand to rest softly on the dog's head. He closed his eyes, and he smiled.