3rd Person's POV
A bright light filled the room, despite its beautiful multicolored light. The figure that emerged from it, well, it was far darker in nature.
"How… peculiar." They walked through the room, their cane tapping against the floor with each step.
The room was cold, the floor was made of stone, and the walls were littered with handles.
They grabbed a handle with one of their gloved hands, and slowly pulled it out.
Inside was a deceased body, maintained and kept from rotting by the frigid temperatures.
"Ahh, specimens." They spoke with a hint of excitement.
"I swear I heard something." An older man walked into the room.
He froze, his eyes widening in fear as he saw the figure.
"Apologies, allow me to—"
"Who the hell are you?!" the old man cut him off. "What are you wearing?!"
"Calm yourself, I—" The figure hesitated. "How… peculiar."The figure sensed something of
"Hey, what are you doing?! Stay away!" The old man took a step back.
"Do not worry… I am a physician. You can trust me." The man called for helo
The figure just reached his hand out, and in an instant, The old man's scream was cut off
===
Oct 31 (Halloween)
Leo's POV
[Error, system has been recalibrated]
Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
[Status System has been streamlined. Quest, Schematic, Skills, Abilities, Summon can now be found in specified tabs.]
[Status] [Quest] [Schematics] [Skills] [Abilities] [Template] [Summons]
[Name: Leo Faith]
[LV 2 (145/500)]
[Templates in Progress]
[John Rambo (92%)]
[White Shadow (99%)]
[Ty Lee (95%)]
That's it? I was expecting more, though I am a little surprised at how fast I've absorbed the templates.
Though, I had a few guesses on why.
One, my Biomass Shifting. It's literally a power meant to work in unison with Biomass Absorption, so maybe it's working with my templates, making the process easier.
My second guess: maybe it's because the templates are regular humans. While Ty Lee is a master gymnast, White Shadow's a secret agent, and Rambo is him, they're still humans, no special powers or anything like that.
Well, at least I don't feel the same strain I used to. If I had to take a guess, it's probably because of my Biomass Shifting. It's probably filling in the gaps, streamlining the DNA modifications.
Either way, I feel like a recalibration was a little unnecessary.
[A New System Mechanic has been added]
Damn it.
[Gacha Event (Beta Mode)]
[Beta Mode: Consider it a test-run model, still a work in progress. Depending on the user's response, it could either be a temporary feature or a permanent one.]
I guess that makes sense, but what actually is a Gacha Event?
[Gacha Event: The Gacha will occasionally give the Host a unique mission/event. When completed, the Host will be rewarded with a unique gift and a large amount of EXP.]
[Gacha Event: Stop The Cure]
[Reward: 150 XP & ???]
Finally, it's about time.
[Warning: If the Host fails the event, there will be dire consequences.]
"Fuck!"
That sounds about right. The Gacha finally gave me another way to get XP, but it came with a catch.
My first Halloween with friends, and now I have to deal with this shit.
DING
My phone let out a ding. It was Ned.
I frowned.
As I donned my costume, I couldn't help but worry about the quest.
[Gacha Event: Stop The Cure]
What did it mean by "Stop the cure?"
Is somebody going to release a cure that has negative effects? Did "cure" stand for something else? Like when those villains say they are the cure and proceed to kill hundreds?
"Conrad, I need you to search for anything that could be related to a cure. News articles, Insta posts, anything that seems off. If you find anything, call me."
"Got it, boss."
"Good." I donned my mask. It's time for Halloween.
===
Harry Osborn's POV
"Seriously, man?" Ned gave me a disappointed look.
He wore a purple suit, his hair temporarily dyed green…or at least I assumed it was temporary. White face paint with red lipstick.
"The Joker?"
"It's a classic, man. And at least it's better than yours." He gestured to my costume.
Though, even I knew calling it a costume was generous. Despite the fact it can get pretty chilly at night, costumes can still get hot as hell. Also, face paint is hell to manage.
So, I went for something simple, an arrow headband.
"You like it?" Ned frowned at my joke.
"Hey guys!" a voice called out.
I turned my head. Gwen ran toward us.
She was wearing an orange jumpsuit, a pair of cuffs dangling from her wrist, and a plastic ball and chain attached to her ankle. She still wore her thick glasses, though, I would have just gone with contacts.
"Please tell me that's ironic," Ned smirked. "Because it's perfect."
"A little. My dad wanted me to dress like a cop, like I used to when I was little, so I decided to dress up like an escaped convict instead."
"Dang, I should have done that. My dad would have flipped if I dressed like Tony Stark." Well, he would have probably just given me a disappointed look.
Gwen glanced at the costume. "Seriously?"
I just shrugged. "It was easy."
Gwen sighed before looking around. "Where's Leo?"
"You're a mean one, Mister Grinch—"
A voice began to sing.
"You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel, Mister Grinch
You're a bad banana with a greasy, black peel—"
Stepping out of the alley was a man. He wore a full-body suit covered in green hair, a strange green mask, a Santa hat and outfit.
"Leo?" Ned asked.
"Yep. What do you think?" He posed.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked.
Leo froze, a blank expression on his face. "Huh?"
"He's the Grinch, I think," Gwen answered. "It's a super old movie. I think it came out in the 1950s."
"Wow, deep cut." Ned fist-bumped a flabbergasted Leo.
"One moment." Leo pulled out his phone and struggled to unlock it until he took off a glove.
===
Leo / The Grinch's POV
Damn.
While the original animated special and book existed, the 2000 Jim Carrey version was nonexistent.
No wonder nobody recognized me, nobody under forty has even heard of the Grinch.
Well, I now know what I have to do. Buy the IP and recreate it. Thankfully, Jim Carrey still exists, but from what I've heard. He hated filming it because the costume was super uncomfortable, and he almost quit the movie.
Heh, I'll just pay him extra. Either that, or try to make him a less uncomfortable costume.
"Is that the Grinch?" Peter asked as he arrived.
"You've seen it?" Ned asked.
Peter hesitated. "My Uncle Ben loved it, he had an old copy he used to play every Christmas."
"It's actually a pretty interesting story, a critique of materialism, a study in alienation, and a testament to the power of community and unconditional love." MJ walked up beside Peter.
"Did you read a Wikipedia page or something?" I really hated this version of MJ.
I loved the MCU version, but this one was just annoying as hell.
The group examined their costumes. Peter wore glasses, a lab coat, and carried a book satchel.
MJ, on the other hand, wore a suit, a fake anchor beard, and a pair of sunglasses. Strapped to her back was a paper mache missile with "Stark" written across it.
"I'm not touching that with a 15-foot pole." I looked at Peter. "Who are you supposed to be?"
"Dr. Bruce Banner," he answered.
"Didn't he turn himself into a giant monster and kill a bunch of people?" Harry asked.
"This was before that, back when he was just a world-renowned physicist."
"Is nobody going to ask about my costume?" MJ cut in.
"No," Harry and I spoke in unison.
"Tony Stark?" Ned guessed.
"Nope, I'm the Merchant of Death, the—where are you going?" MJ asked as Harry tried to ditch the group.
I grabbed him by his collar at the last minute and pulled him back. "Get back here."
Harry let out a tired, annoyed sigh in response.
"So, where are we heading first?" Ned asked.
"Probably Times Square, but first-" I pulled out a camera. "It's time for a picture." I handed the camera to MJ. "Take the picture?"
"What about me?" MJ asked.
"It's for Omni Work's Instagram page. Omni Work employees only."
MJ sighed but reluctantly agreed to take the picture.
I noticed Gwen standing off to the side while me, Harry, Ned, and Peter got into an awkward position.
"What are you doing over there? You're technically an Omni Work employee." I gestured for her to come over.
A wide smile formed on her face, showing off her braces. She rushed in, squeezing between Ned and I.
MJ held up my phone. "Say, Merchant of Death."
Harry and I let out an annoyed groan in unison.
===
"So, what's first? Apple bobbing? A haunted house? What about an escape room?" Gwen listed things off.
Like every Halloween, Times Square was overflowing with people, enjoying food, activities, or just waiting for the parade to start.
I tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Check it out."
A small crowd had formed, people taking pictures of each other.
"What's wrong?" Ned asked, overhearing our conversation.
"Everybody is using Instagram." I pulled out my phone and showed the group. "Check it out."
Instagram was overflowing with pictures, parents showing off their kids' outfits, people showing off their decorations, and girls showing off their 'sexy' costumes.
"Oh my-" Gwen blushed. I quickly covered her eyes. "Hey!"
"It's blowing up," Ned noted.
"Are you guys seriously just going to look at your phones all day?" MJ mocked.
"Maybe. It'll be more fun than spending the night with you," Harry clapped back.
MJ just stuck out her tongue. "Come on, even I want to have fun every once in a while." She wrapped her arm around Peter, dragging him away to a booth.
===
3rd Person POV
"You have to be kidding me," Officer Jenkins muttered under his breath.
"Nope," Officer Clancy responded.
They were standing outside a morgue… on Halloween.
"Come on." Clancy stepped forward. "It's just a simple checkup. Let's get this over with."
They stepped inside, It was dark.
Clancy switched the lights on, no one in sight.
"What the… where is everybody?" Jenkins asked.
"I've got a bad feeling." Clancy placed her hand on her holster.
They began to search the building, slowly clearing the rooms.
The bathroom, empty.
The waiting room, empty.
The break room, a mess.
"Jenkins, over here!" Clancy called her partner over.
The break room was an absolute mess, food thrown on the ground, chairs knocked over.
Clancy wasn't a detective, but she wasn't blind either.
There was an altercation here, a panic.
Jenkins grabbed his radio. "Calling for assistance, potential 10-10. Signs of struggle and break-in."
Creak.
Jenkins and Clancy raised their guns, down the hall was a slightly ajar door.
They slowly approached, pushing it open.
Inside, they saw a man carrying what looked like beakers. He was just standing there, frozen.
"Turn around!" Jenkins demanded.
No reaction.
"NYPD, turn around, now!" Clancy added.
The figure slowly turned around, revealing a horrific sight, gray skin, milky eyes, and a surgical scar across his forehead.
"Apologize," a voice spoke. "He is still in his recovery stage."
They turned…but it was too late.
People cheered and danced through the streets, unaware that two officers had just met a fate worse than death.