|One last batch
October 25 2001 at 7:18 AM
|Harbinger of Death
|Whisper and Wikewike tiptoed into the spa.
Everything was quiet, eerily so, since most of the campus population had
been whisked away to the afterlife. “It’s weird,” said Wikewike.
“What do we do?”
“Nothing, I guess,” said Whisper. “Is there anybody left but us?”
“We are,” said Cathbad, poking his head out of the sauna. “Paladin and PtheticLosr and I figured we might as well utilize the goodies while everything’s not crowded.”
“Yeah, we usually have to wait at least half an hour to get in here,” said PL.
“Come on in,” Paladin said. “There’s plenty of room.”
“Woo hoo!” They ran to the locker room and got on their swimsuits, and headed back to the sauna.
“Wait a minute, didn’t someone die in the sauna before?” asked Wikewike.
“Yes. But that means we’re safe. The Harbinger never repeats a method of death,” Cathbad told them.
“Hey, I thought I was the only one left!” said Exalis, overjoyed to find live people. “Talk about bad timing. I had to come back right in the middle of slaying season.”
“Nah, it’s all good. Hop in.”
They sat in relaxed silence for a while. It was kind of nice, actually. They were just beginning to think that maybe the hectic, crazed Deb U life was a little too much, that perhaps this kind of tranquility was a better goal than a constant attempt at naughtiness.
“You guys wanna play Spin the Bottle?” PL asked eagerly.
“No,” they all said.
“Seven Minutes In Heaven?”
“Well…all right.” They went out and jumped in the pool.
“Wait a minute, did anybody drown yet?”
“Yeah, those girls who went up north.”
“Was that this year?”
“How do you know for sure?”
“I read that segment.”
“Oh. Okay then.” They swam until they were nice and wrinkly, then they got out and towelled off.
“I have some snacks,” said Whisper. “Want some?”
“Do you have spinach dip?” asked PtheticLosr. “I love spinach dip.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve got all kinds of crudites and hors d’ouevres.”
“Darlin’, you are quite the hostess,” Paladin said, and they delved in. They were happily munching away when a cloaked figure with a scythe appeared before them.
“You!” exclaimed Wikewike. “What are you doing here?”
“It is your time,” the Harbinger said solemnly. “All of you.”
“But how did we die?”
“It was…” He looked around, pausing for dramatic effect, then pointed at the hors d’ouevre plate. “The salmon mousse!”
“Oh my, I’m so embarrassed,” said Whisper, putting her hands to her face.
“All right, let’s go.” The Harbinger waved his scythe. “Come on. No time to lose. You’ve only got a few days until Halloween to enjoy the party.”
They gamely agreed and got up to go. As they faded away from sight, Cathbad was heard to say, “But I didn’t even have any of the salmon mousse!”