" o, Frankie! How's it hanging?"

"Please don't call me that. My name is Adam, Tony."

"Whatever."

"How would you like it if I called you 'Wolfie'?"

"Go ahead, man. Wolfie's a totally cool name. Where's Freddie and Jay? I thought they'd be here by now." They had agreed to meet in the park, next to the swings, at midnight but attendance was disappointing.

"They were. All those years of rivalry suddenly boiled over and they started a fight. It got ugly."

"No kidding. Who started it?" Not that Tony was interested. He just wanted to know if she would turn up. "Is Irena here?" He tried to make it sound casual. Tony had a serious crush on Irena.

"She was. Then she turned into a panther."

"Oh." That meant she'd been thinking sexy thoughts about someone. Someone who wasn't Tony.

"She's probably prowling in the park."

"Oh." He was disheartened. "Who's that?" A man was approaching, he wore a grey raincoat and was carrying a newspaper under his arm. "He doesn't look like one of us."

"Yes, he is. That's Henry."

"Henry? Weren't we expecting - "

"Glad you could make it, Henry. Uh, shouldn't you be Edward by now?"

"My connection let me down. There's a lot of expensive ingredients in that potion. Some of them are getting pretty hard to get hold of. Cocaine for one."

"What are you going to do? Terrify her to death with that newspaper? A fine bunch of monsters we are." He looked in Tony's direction, realising it was a mistake. "Tony, I'm sorry. It's just - "

"What?"

"You're not very scary like that. Without your, you know, hair." He’d touched a sensitive spot but it was true. Apart from his acne there was nothing scary about Tony’s everyday self and he knew it. It made him very insecure.

"Oh, please excuse me. I would like to force the moon to turn for your convenience but there's this thing called gravity. It's not easy being a slave to my hormones and the moon. It's just not my time of the month, okay?"

"We've all had it tough, Tony."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Your dad locked you up in the dungeon. Boo hoo! Well, don't blame me if you have issues with your father!" He loped off, wolf-like but not quite like a wolf. "And it's fur, not hair." He mumbled something about not wanting to come anyway.

Adam shrugged. “He’ll calm down in a minute.“ This was turning into a farce. “How many are we expecting?“ “I invited you, Tony, Anton, Jason, Freddie, Irena, Michael and Vlad, of course. That’s nine. Ah, here’s Anton, thank goodness.”

"Felicitations, my friend of many parts."

He was in a chatty mood. Damn. "Hello, Anton. This is Michael, you know Henry, of course, and over there is Tony."

"Tony. Michael." Henry and Anton had never gotten along. "Shall we proceed?"

"I was sure Vlad would be here. He always enjoys Halloween."

"Come on, guys. While we're still young," Tony's sulk was over. "Some of us, anyway."

"Lead on," said Anton. "For 'tis the Eve of All Hallows and those such as we may walk amongst mortals and do as we will!"

They all moved in their fashion into the night. Henry walked. Tony loped. Anton strode. Michael glided. Adam mostly shuffled these days. They made poor time.

Tony was interested in the newcomer. Please don't ask him about his stupid gadgets, thought Adam.

"What's that thing, man?"

"Oh, this? A little trifle of my own design." Anton let Tony have a closer look at his voice box. It was a metal case the size of a walkman. A lead from the top was plugged into the side of Anton's neck. "My larynx was destroyed in a vehicular mishap. I was able to construct this device to simulate my voice. The original had more style but it became cumbersome, alas. My face," he gestured, "is also a construction."

"Cool. So, did you kill many people?"

"Oh, I was a star, dear boy. A positive luminary in my day. I slew a clutch of inept surgeons in a series of deliciously ironic tableaux. Do you know what they called me? Abominable! Can you imagine that? Nine biblical plagues. Then I rode again, in Egypt."

"Excellent. So, why haven't I heard of you? What happened, man?"

"Your education is seriously lacking but what can you expect with the way public schools are going? I had planned a comeback. I had constructed a scheme inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins of such devious wickedness that it would have put me onto the tongues of the world. as but my idea was stolen! Oh, woe! Calamity! Plagiarism, they name is John Doe! I ask you, what kind of name is that -?"

Tony increased his loping speed a little so he caught up with Adam. "Doesn't he ever shut up?"

"Only when his batteries run down. You're lucky. The old voice box was clockwork but he got repetitive strain injury from winding it up."

Unable to bear not hearing his own voice for thirty consecutive seconds, Anton attempted another conversation, this time with Michael. "And how is our master raconteur? Have you an Aristotle-like pronouncement on the condition of the human soul in store for us? Pray release it so that we may bask in your acuity."

Michael's face remained impassive behind the mask.

"I thought not."

"Oh great," said Adam. "Here's one of the great public speakers. Here's Kharis."

"Keep walking," hissed Henry. "Pretend we didn't see him." The group hustled around the next corner and vanished into a doorway. A shadow slowly walked by, dragging one bad foot.

"Is he gone?" Asked Tony.

"Yes. The thought of having him along - " Henry shook his head and grimaced.

"Cut him some slack, man. He had his tongue torn out. He looks kinda cool, why not invite him?"

"Well, cutting to the core of the matter, he's slow, stupid and smells of rotting flesh. The embalming process was not quite textbook in this instance. I worked once in Egypt, you know - " Anton talked.

They were nearly there and Anton was still talking. "When I think of all the publicity that uncouth yob Jason gets. A machete? Where's the finesse in that? Where's the elan in a chainsaw massacre? I must concede there's a certain crude theatricality to Frederick's ornate talons but it's all so terribly vulgar. Now, I, on the other hand - "

Adam stopped. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Is this the place?" Asked Tony. He hoped so. This totally sucked already.

"It must be."

"So, what do we do?"

"We knock."

Tony walked up the steps. The others waited at the bottom. "What's the matter, scared?" Adam and Anton joined him. Michael and Henry didn't.

Adam had the biggest hands so he knocked. The sound boomed.

"Why don't you just use the bell, man?"

Adam's patience was at an end. "And why don't you just - "

The door opened and an old woman peered out through thick glasses. She was a foot shorter than Tony but still seemed to be looking down her nose at him. "Aren't you a bit old for this, sonny?" Tony snarled. The old lady ignored him and handed Anton a paper bag of candy. "It's home made." She slammed the door on them.

They stood and starred at the closed door. "Should I knock again?" Asked Adam, "perhaps she didn't recognise us."

Tony was disgusted. "Well, thanks for helping me out, guys. That was a nice piece of evil we all did there."

"Are you sure this is the correct venue?" Anton was nonplussed.

Adam checked the address yet again. "I'm sure."

"So that was her?" Asked Tony. "I thought she'd be - I don't know, taller."

"So did I."

Baffled, they walked back down the path. Henry started to say something. "D-n't -sk," said Anton. His voice was starting to get crackly.

A large sleek female panther had slipped into the group. "Irena!" cried Tony. "Great to see you." Irena rubbed against him and jumped up, licking his face. He blushed. Then she pissed on his feet. Tony howled. "Oh, man! My Reeboks! They cost like a hundred bucks! Mom will totally kill me. She'll kill me dead. You stupid bitch!"

Irena growled.

"Show some respect, young man!" Adam snapped.

"You're not my dad, old man. I mean, who voted you leader anyway? You can't tell me what to do. That's it. I'm totally out of here."

Adam watched him go. Irena ran after him. He ran faster. They vanished around the corner.

"They make a great couple." Henry had also had enough. "Well, I'd better be going."

"See you next year?"

"To be honest, I'm trying to cut down on the evil stuff. I want to concentrate on great works for the common good. And my autobiography. Maybe we could have lunch some time. Talk to my receptionist." This was bad enough but then he went over the edge. "I mean; I'm a serious scientist. I don't really have to do this kind of thing."

"And I do, I suppose."

"Well, you are more of a natural talent for evil. I’m a fully qualified medical doctor. You were built from corpses and educated by a blind hermit."

"That's just great. I have the hands of a great surgeon, the throat of an opera singer and, not that it matters, the genitals of Lord Byron but people look at the scar on may forehead and think, 'oh, that's an abnormal brain, he must be evil and stupid.' A brain, incidentally, that once lectured in advanced Physics at Geneva University."

"Oh, I didn't know that." Henry suddenly realised he had insulted a seven foot monster. With a brain which was, however brilliant, also abnormal. Now he knew why Adam was the unspoken leader. He almost tripped over his own legs as he fled.

Anton unplugged his voice box. Silence at last. He tapped the batteries than mimed walking feet with his fingers. He left. Michael had long gone, slipping away silently, as was his style. Adam was on his own. He sighed deeply and sat on the edge of the sidewalk. Another Halloween over. This had been the worse of the lot. Even worse than when they'd invited Jack Griffin along and he'd giggled and played practical jokes all night.

There was a rush behind him, like a cold but gentle breeze. "Vlad! About time."

"I am sorry I am so late. Vhat vith the crosses, the garlic from the restaurants, the running vater - It's so difficult to travel these days. Vhere are our fellow travellers?"

"You've missed the fun. Not that there was much of it." Who had taken the candy? They could at least have shared it.

"And the - ?"

"Slammed the door in our faces. She said we were too old to be doing this."

"Oh dear. It vas my fault. Another duty failed. There have been so many lately."

"I think she was right."

"Vhat do you mean?"

"Let's face it, we're just not scary any more. Freddy, Jason and the other youngsters are just a joke. The serious monsters these days have anthrax in the bathtub, a dirty bomb in the shed and an army of fanatics at their beck and call. What chance do we have?"

"Ve vill come back into fashion, vone day, Adam. Ve always do. Cheer up. It vill soon be Christmas."

"Don't remind me. I expect Dad will have built another bride."

"You vill have to tell him one day, my old friend. I am sure he vill understand. Maybe he vill build a strapping young man for you. Like Tony, perhaps." They both laughed at the image.

"Trust me, he's not my type. Just our luck to get a teenage werewolf. There must be plenty of mature ones out there. You don't know what Father's like. He was never exactly liberal and he's just got more and more grouchy as he's grown older. What are you doing this year?"

"Ah, back to the Old Country. My son and daughter vill be there. And the brides, of course."

"How many is it now?"

"Twelve." He suddenly pulled the cloak over his face. There was a flutter of wings, more like a butterfly than a bat, and he was gone. Adam stood up. Vlad liked dramatic entrances and exits. It was a good trick and still impressed Adam after seeing it a hundred times but this one had been a little too fast. Had Vlad sensed something? Yes, he'd been distracted and things were happening quickly. "All alone now, gramps?" A tall youth with a pinched face had sneaked up without him knowing. There was a switchblade in his right hand. The robber's smile held no humour. He had a silver crucifix around his neck. That explained why Vlad had left in such a hurry. His allergies were truly tragic. “Don't be a hero. Just give me your wallet. My bud's behind you with a knife. " Yes, he could feel the other's breath and hear his heartbeat. Suddenly, Adam was alert. No, not just alert, alive. Adam smiled, knowing it would look like a snarl to the youth. "I'm warning you."

He's warning me? Without pausing, Adam reached forward and crushed the menacing hand, blade and all. It's owner screamed and fell to his knees, staring in disbelief at his mangled fingers. One had broken clean off and hung by a thread of skin. Adam grunted with satisfaction. Leaving him for a moment, he turned. His "bud," a short and ugly boy with a sour bloated face, was backing away; realising he had bitten off far more than he could ever chew. "Christ! What did you do to Lou?" His knife was truly pathetic, little more than a boy scout would carry. He would have done well to scratch Adam's skin with it. Adrenaline surged through Adam's body and his patchwork nervous system sang. His father had connected hundreds of nerve endings, by hand, one by one. A true labour of love. Fear! The young thug had wet himself! He grasped him around the throat and despite the weight lifted him in the air one-handed. He tried to kick. With his other hand, Adam took hold of the hips. The would-be mugger dropped the knife.

Their arrogance was astonishing. "Did you think you could frighten me with these toys. I'm not just an old man out alone at night. I'm one of the immortal monsters. I am the monster." With a laugh of triumph he twisted. There was a cracking noise as the spine splintered, cracked and shattered under the torque. The boy died instantly. He hardly had time to scream. Adam dropped his corpse. Its face and feet now pointed in opposite directions, comedy and horror properly mixed.

Then he turned back to the one on the ground.

"Please don't kill me."

Adam snorted with contempt. "You pathetic piece of mortal filth. Of course I'm going to kill you. It's what I do. I do have an insane university lecturer's brain, you know." With one twist he broke the boy's neck. Another and the head came clean away from his body. Adam laughed again. Oh, it felt so good! He tossed the head towards a trashcan. It went straight in without touching the sides. An unpleasant surprise for a garbage man, or a tasty meal for rats.

He blew on his knuckles. "Still got it, 'old' man. Still got it."