"Patrick! We're doing shots. Get over here!"
"Hey! The name's Waldo tonight."
"Am I pouring you a shot, or no?"
"Deal me in!" Patrick turned to the 20-something sexy black cat he was talking to, "I gotta take care of this. Don't go anywhere."
She smiled and took a sip from her red cup. The mass of red and white horizontal stripes was hard to miss shifting through the crowd as he moved towards his next poor decision. As he approached his friends, a blaring, siren-adjacent noise screamed through the Bluetooth speakers. A hush fell over the crowd as the host attempted to dismiss the alert.
"Sorry everyone! Amber Alert. Give me one second." He yelled from the back deck.
Some of the party started buzzing with concerned whispers as they checked their own devices. Patrick continued on his mission. There were four shot glasses already filled to the brim with a mysterious clear fluid. One slid into Patrick's hand before he had the chance to greet his peers. As the music played again, the four boys threw back their drinks and let out a celebratory roar before slamming their glasses down for another.
"Man, what did you put in these?" Patrick asked, turning to his cloaked compatriot.
"Shhh! Don't think too hard about it, Pa-uh I mean Wally boy." He said while brazenly pouring refills from a black bat brandished bottle.
"Alright, Dracula, but if I'm going down, you're coming down with me." Patrick made swift work of one more shot before leaving his new drinking buddies. The stumbling mass of stripes made his way back through the crowded yard.
"So, did I miss anything?" Patrick resumed his conversation with the flirtatious feline. She invited him to dance. He accepted. The couple joined the rhythmic movements of their peers; bobbing to the beat of "Halloween Hits '24" with only a sliver of moonlight and a strip of purple LEDs to light the dance floor.
After they had their fill of dancing, the pair abandoned the buzzing horde.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Patrick proposed to his new feline friend.
"Sure, but we'll have to walk to my place. I don't think this party has any DD's left."
They both looked around at their not-so-sober peers.
"Yeah, you're probably right. Please tell me you live close by." He said while holding up both hands, fingers crossed.
"Hmmm only if you consider about 20 blocks close?" The girl gave him a look that seemed to be a mix of concern and hopeful.
"I'll take what I can get!" He exclaimed, to her delight.
They began their journey to the girl's apartment. In this late hour, the roads were mainly populated by shadows. Hastily discarded candy wrappers and red cups were the only evidence of the night's festivities.
"Did you leave any candy out?"
"Oh, you know it! I really hope no one stole our only mixing bowl, though. My roommates would kill me."
The girl let out a chuckle.
"You didn't leave a 'Take One' note on the bowl, did you?"
"I did! Why? Was I not supposed to do that?"
"Rookie mistake," she smirked. "I'm sorry, but someone definitely took your bowl."
"Oh no! What am I gonna tell Andrew?"
"You may as well look for a new place now. Andrew will never forgive you."
"Shit. You know any good spots around here?"
"Well, we are pulling up to one now, but it's already taken. Sorry 'bout that." She gestured towards the building in front of them.
"Oh, you can't even show me around? I may be homeless now, you know."
"Your puppy-dog eyes won't work on this feline." She pauses, before reaching into her bag to pull out her keys.
"Oh, alright. Come on in, Waldo." She said while opening the door for her new guest.
The girl removed her cat costume accessories and poured two glasses of red while Patrick removed his hat and sweater, adjusting to the warm interior. The pair talked and laughed while sipping their drinks in the small apartment kitchen. This interaction continued into the living room, where the pair settled into the couch. The girl pulled out the TV remote, but before they could watch anything, they were interrupted by a phone call for her. She scrambled to her balcony door, sliding it open and quickly tucking herself into the cold night.
"I'm so sorry! I will just be a minute." She said before closing the door and lifting the device to her ear.
"Sorry Mom, I'm kinda b-" She was cut off by muttered chatter on the other end of the line.
"Yes, I know."
"No! What texts?" She started to look at the phone before quickly placing it back to her ear.
"I swear I'm fine, Mom." She said with a sigh.
"Yes, I will."
"I just have a friend over right now, so I can't."
"Uh…yeah. They were in my Art History class last semester."
"You really shouldn't be watching the news so much if it's this stressful for you."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Listen, I really gotta go and I promise I will call you in the morning, so please get some rest." She says, audibly frustrated.
"Ye-okay mhm yep. Okay Goodb-" she pauses for a few seconds.
"Goodbye, Mother. I love you. Mhm. Night." She ends the call and places her phone on silent, looking annoyed.
The girl swiftly brushes off the conversation and returns to her apartment’s interior. She pours herself another glass, offering one to Patrick as well. He declines, instead motioning toward the door and smiling while picking up the remainders of his outfit. She leaves her glass on the counter and follows him out.
“It was nice talking to you.” Patrick said while swinging open the door.
“Will I be able to find you again or do I need to get one of those books?” The girl asked while grinning.
“Oh yeah! Here, give me your phone number and I’ll have my guy send you his collection.”
“You have a guy?” She tilted her head, leaning into her doorframe.
“Yeah, I wish. Can I still get your number?” He looked up from his phone, hopefully.
“Here.” She grasped his phone and began typing in her contact information. “But you better not give this out to anyone. I am not nearly as well camouflaged in a crowd.” She outstretched her arm. The bright screen read “Veronica from the Halloween party.”
“I would never. I’ll send you a message right now, so you’ll have to promise not to give my info out either. I have worked very hard to earn this reputation as unfindable, you know.” He tapped a message into his phone and hit send.
“Alright, I promise. Now go find those kids who stole your mixing bowl!” She said while smiling and pointing out towards the road.
“On it, Sargeant!” Patrick said, performing a weak salute before marching off into the night.
He started following a path that seemed to point in the direction of his place.
As Patrick walked further along the path, it shifted from a well-groomed and paved walkway to a strip of land between rows of trees that was worn down to reveal dirt. This path had clearly flooded and dried up many times over the years, as it was coated with loose, cracked earth and dried evidence of muddy footprints. Most of the prints were smaller than Patrick's. It would seem some neighborhood kids frequented this path.
The trees started to block out most of the remaining moonlight as Patrick continued his trek. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to light the way, only to reveal his low battery notification. It would be smart to conserve those last few minutes of energy in case he gets lost.
“Ugh! Damn phone’s about dead.” Patrick muttered to himself. He carefully placed his phone back into his pocket for the time being.
A cool breeze ran between the fibers of his poorly constructed costume sweater, causing Patrick to shiver. He continued on, picking up the pace to avoid staying out in the cold for much longer.
As he continued, Patrick strained more and more to see the path ahead of him, let alone his own feet. His vision may have been improved if he had the chance to sober up before his travels.
As he attempted to scan the surrounding area, he panned his strained squint to collect as much light as his dilated pupils could muster. All around him was darkness and trees.
There was something else of note.
There was no distant snapping of twigs.
No rustling in the trees.
No evidence of crickets or cicadas thrumming in the brush.
The usual sounds of nocturnal creatures were completely absent.
Patrick’s head perked up at this realization. He was completely alone.
Maybe he started remembering those newscasts his mother had asked him about the day prior or the alert at the party. Maybe Patrick was secretly afraid of the dark.
Whatever it was that inspired him, it put a pep in his step. The once relaxed mass of red and white stripes began to run. His inability to see or hear his surroundings should have deterred him, but he soldiered on.
Scrambling through the wood, Patrick was tripped, scratched, whipped, and snagged by eroded roots and thorny brush, but he kept on running. His blood coated the air with a sweet scent. It was fresh and tasted a bit like ethanol.
He reached for his pockets to retrieve his phone, but in his hustle, tumbled straight to the ground. The phone, luckily, fell in front of him, lit up by yet another low battery warning.
3%.
Hopefully that would be enough to call for help. He got to his feet and called the closest person who he knew would still be awake.
“Veronica from th…” appeared on the screen as a muted ringing played
Once…
Twice…
Three times…
“Oh God! Please!” Patrick shouted into the silent wood.
The phone continued to ring.
She wasn’t going to pick up.
His phone’s screen started to flash white to black and back again.
A red battery flashed on the screen a few times.
The blue-black dying screen finally dimmed its last bits of light.
The ringing stopped.
Patrick's trembling form crumpled towards the earth. His crouched body curled around his only lifeline, staring into the void that once held his connection to the outside world.
He looked up from the screen as if catching some movement in it's reflection. Fear struck his bloodshot eyes. The irises were a lovely shade of golden brown in the moonlight.
It was too bad no one else would get to him first.
I do enjoy leftovers.