Re-posted in celebration of the website's 10th anniversary, 'Trick or Treat' represents a very important piece of Spectrum HQ history. This short story, which was already presented for the first Halloween Challenge in 2002, was the first ever Captain Scarlet fan fiction submitted by Marion Woods. It was to become the first of many, as since then, Marion submitted a total of 63 stories, participated to other various projects, and became one of Spectrum Headquarters' closest collaborators. Chris Bishop. |
a Halloween Story for Captain Scarlet
Halloween on
Cloudbase. On this particular evening, Captain
Scarlet had learned to avoid the more riotous element of the Americans on the
base. Even the usually staid
Captain Blue wasn’t to be trusted on such a day - as the memory of last year’s
incident with the itching powder testified.
He heard a burst of laughter and an outraged shout from the next corridor and
smoothly turned and went the other way to the canteen. Riding up on the escalator he gave a
forced smile to the excited crowd coming down the other stairway, all wearing
masks and waving party favours.
“Gawd help us
all,” he thought as he stepped into the canteen. “Would you trust these people
to save the World?”
Once inside,
he gave a moan of despair; the place was festooned with plastic bats and spiders
and over the service counter was a frieze of witches on broomsticks and pumpkin
lanterns. “Just once,” he thought, “it would be
nice if the Yanks didn’t take over the entire place when they want to party.” In
another month, the menu would consist of turkey dinners and that awful pumpkin
pie as they ‘did’ Thanksgiving. It
hardly seemed that long since it had been hamburgers and popcorn for
Independence Day! He glared at the waitress behind the counter, who was wearing
a grotesque mask, and curtly ordered a baked potato with cheese.
“Happy
Halloween!” Scarlet nearly choked on his mouthful of potato and was thumped
heartily on the back.
He turned to
remonstrate and saw Rhapsody smiling down at him. “Dianne, don’t tell me they
have got to you too?”
“Got to me? Oh, you mean the mask?
No, Melody gave it to me; isn’t it a hoot?” She pushed it to the top of
her head and grinned at him.
“What’s scary
about Marilyn Munroe?” he asked.
“Well, she’s
been dead quite a while.” Rhapsody laughed and sat next to him.
“Have you seen Ochre? He’s
dressed up as a wizard and is putting spells on everyone.”
“No,
thankfully I have been spared that spectacle.” Scarlet returned to his potato.
Rhapsody sat
alongside him in silence for a while and then got up saying, “Yeah, I think
Melody was right. You are a complete dead loss today.”
He looked up
at her. “I am not! I am just not American and I object to being forced to join
in their childish pranks.”
“It isn’t
just the Yanks, you know. All Hallows is a festival in plenty of other Christian
countries. Lighten up, Paul, Its just a bit of
fun.”
“I don’t
happen to think playing silly pranks on people and extorting money is fun.”
“The money
goes to charity,” she reasoned.
“I’m sure it
does; the Spectrum home for juvenile delinquents probably.”
Rhapsody
stuck her tongue out at him and walked away. “See you tomorrow, when you’ve
found your good humour again,” she called over her shoulder.
“You must be
the prettiest witch in history.” Blue smiled as Symphony paraded before him in
her fancy dress costume. “But its not very witchy.“
“There are
pretty witches - like the one in Wizard of Oz – I am one of those
witches.” She pouted and tugged at a wayward piece of green chiffon.
“I’ll buy
it,” he laughed. “Sure beats black serge, hook noses and warts!”
he patted Symphony’s backside as she sashayed past him, hands on hips.
“Keep your
hands to yourself, Svenson – unless you are prepared to loose them forever!” she
glowered, turning and grabbing him by the wrists, then tilting her head to
receive his kiss.
He obliged,
she kissed him back and let him go, turning away to hide her amusement.
“Was that the
trick or the treat?” he asked, looking down towards his feet. “I mean, have I
changed into a frog or something and don’t know it?”
“No,” she
said, trying hard not to laugh. He
gave her a suspicious smile and went to the mirror.
He had to join in her peel of laughter as he surveyed the bright red imprint of
her lips on his cheek.
“You’ll get
me cashiered one of these days,” he chided, wiping the lipstick off with his
pocket handkerchief.
“Spoilsport,”
she pouted. “Are you coming to the officers mess?”
“I’m on duty
with his Britannic Misery in twenty minutes, I’d better not stay long.”
“What is
wrong with Paul?” she asked, applying more lipstick.
“Who knows? He’s been sulking all day. Claims we are all acting like
kids.”
“Huh – he
should know.” She explained in response to his quizzical smile, “’If you won’t
play the way I like I won’t play at all!’”
“Maybe,” he
conceded quietly. Adam felt disloyal criticising Paul,
even to Karen. Most people on
Cloudbase just did not know how insecure the debonair Captain Scarlet could be,
when he wasn’t on duty; but Blue did.
He had sat beside his sick-bed on
countless occasions, and listened to the World-weary and heart sore ramblings of
his delirium, enough to know that Paul felt his only real value was his ability
to survive against the odds, and this very ability made him an outsider, even
amongst his friends. “I guess he sees himself as one of the supernatural things
we all like to parody,” he added half to himself.
Karen heard
him and turned, her face showing a sudden sympathy of understanding. “Oh Adam, I
never thought of that! None of us did – even Dianne.”
“Yeah, well,
don’t go all lovey-dovey on him, or he’ll know something is wrong.” Blue warned,
wishing he could remember that Karen had excellent hearing and to keep his mouth
shut sometimes.
“Would I?”
she bristled and flounced out of the room.
“Yes,
unfortunately, my kind-hearted darling, that is just what you would do.”
He shrugged and followed her down to the main corridor.
In the
Officers mess, Captain Ochre was dressed in billowing purple robes and a large
star-studded pointed hat. He was carrying a black and silver wand,
made from dowling, black paint and tin foil.
An excited crowd of Spectrum personnel, variously disguised as witches,
ghosts and – what looked to Blue like – Leprechauns clustered around him.
Magenta was a helpless prisoner, blindfolded and tied to a chair in one corner.
A young technician was force-feeding him with all kinds of squidgy foodstuffs,
which she assured him were eyeballs or entrails. He seemed to be having a whale
of a time.
“Ah, “ Ochre
announced in portentous tones, “here comes my very own Titania!”
“Watch it!”
Symphony said, only half teasing.
“Queen of the
Fairies,” Blue hissed, “Shakespeare – Paul took me to see the play.”
“So you must
be Bottom.” Rhapsody laughed up at him. Blue gave her a weak smile.
“Why aren’t
you in costume, Mortal?” Ochre thundered from his dais, pointing the wand at
Blue.
“He’s ugly
enough without a mask?” Someone suggested with a shriek of
laughter. Blue tried to look stern.
“He’s due on
duty with his Britannic Misery,” Symphony explained. There was a united groan of
sympathy from the assembled officers.
“Who?”
Rhapsody asked Blue with a suspecting frown.
“Scarlet,” he
confessed.
Rhapsody
guffawed. “Oh I love it! Karen, that is so right! He was sulking in the canteen a while
ago.”
Symphony
pointed at Blue. “Svenson’s name, not mine.” Then she bent her head to Rhapsody
and they started whispering. Blue’s heart sank.
“Well, we
expect you here when you come off duty, Mortal,” Ochre said. “Everyone has to do
a turn or pay a forfeit.”
“I’ll just
pay up now, shall I?” Blue said unhappily. “Last year you made me sing and its
unfair for anyone to have to suffer that twice!”
“Yeah, well,
We’ve learnt our lesson.” Ochre grinned. “This year you can dance!”
“No I can’t!
Not all the years of classes at Mrs Phoebe Arbuthnot’s Academy of Dance, have
enabled me to do that very well either,” Blue confessed.
“The what?”
Ochre gasped, eyes wide with amusement.
“My mother
sent us all to Mrs Phoebe Arbuthnot for dancing lessons, for years and years. With the honourable exception of my sister I can say it did
none of us any good,” Blue explained, spreading his hands in a show of humility.
“I just can’t seem to get my feet to go where they should, however hard I try.”
Symphony
looked up and confirmed this. “Yeah, some people dance as if they have two left
feet; Adam dances like he has no feet at all!”
“Well, it
should make an interesting spectacle then,” Ochre reasoned. “And if it is so
awful, you can pay the forfeit too.”
“That’s not
fair!” Blue protested.
There was a
ripple of laughter as the ‘Wizard’ thundered his disapproval.
“Cower,
Mortal! Before the might of my powers!
If you do not accept this challenge, I will conjure before you the worst
imaginings of your darkest nightmares!”
“Alright, go
on then.” Blue folded his arms and stood his ground. “Conjure away – do your
worst!”
Ochre stood
up and waved his arms around, muttering some impressive sounding gibberish. Blue
sucked in his cheeks and tried not to laugh –
Richard was really very good.
“There ought
to be clap of thunder or a puff of smoke to go with that,” Rhapsody suggested,
smiling , coming to stand beside Blue. “’Cause you haven't turned into a frog
yet.”
“That’s not
MY darkest nightmare – the dancing scares me far more,” Blue
joked.
The door to
the mess opened and Scarlet stood in the doorway, his face emotionless.
Blue turned.
“Okay, Paul, I was just coming.” He sighed as he moved towards his partner.
“Rick’s been conjuring my darkest nightmare, so
keep your eyes peeled, will you?”
“There is no
need, Earthman. I am already here.”
There was a
stricken silence in the mess, and several sharp intakes of breath.
“Very
funny, Paul,”
Rhapsody said sarcastically, and she glanced at Blue, who had gone very
pale.
Scarlet
turned towards her, his eyes cold. “The Mysterons do not joke, Earthwoman. You
are all my prisoners. Cloudbase is no longer under your
command, so keep away from the communicator switch, Symphony Angel, it will
avail you nothing.”
“Paul. Stop
it,” Rhapsody said, trying to keep the tension out of her voice. “This isn’t
funny anymore – if it ever was.”
Scarlet drew
his gun and aimed at Blue as he moved a pace towards him. “Stay where you are,
Captain. My Masters have new tasks for you all;
you will become servants of the Mysterons and together we will take control of
this planet. We will be revenged
for your unprovoked attack on our Martian complex. “
There was
mounting panic amongst the junior staff, clustered around Ochre.
“Do
something!” Someone called.
Blue moved
forwards. “You won’t get away with this –
there are too many of us here, you will
be destroyed.”
“I have had
months to make sure that enough of your personnel
are already Mysteron agents. You
are all too lax and overconfident of your invulnerability here, Captain. How many of the men on the base can you
really trust?”
“Where’s
Captain Scarlet? What have you done with him?” Blue snarled.
“I am
Captain Scarlet, don’t you recognise me?”
“Scarlet
would rather die than allow himself to be taken over by the Mysterons once
more!”
There was the
coldest of smiles on the dark man’s lips. “I am already dead, Adam; have you
forgotten? The Mysterons have never let go of my mind, they just allowed you to
think they had ‘lost me’. I know
everything about this base and its weapons and its personnel.
YOU cannot defeat ME, with your puny threats and hopeless appeals to my ‘better
nature’.”
Rhapsody
started to cry. Her shoulders shook and she turned her face away, covering it
with her hands. Symphony went to her side.
“Go on, blast
me to pieces if you want to!” she raged. “Look what you’ve done!
Just kill us all but save us from the sermons. Jeez, you Mysterons love to talk, don’t you?” She put her
arms around Rhapsody and comforted her as best she could.
Scarlet
watched impassively.
“What are you
going to do?” Ochre asked. He had shrugged off the purple robes and the pointed
hat. Magenta now stood alongside him, both
displaying defiance.
There was the
slightest of pauses, and the minutest
of quavers in the Mysteron’s voice as he said, “Well, I could make you all pay a
hefty forfeit.”
There was
pandemonium.
Ochre and
Magenta sprang towards the open door, but Blue got there first.
He landed a punch on Scarlet’s chin that swept his friend of his feet.
Lying on the
floor, helpless with laughter and the pain in his jaw , Scarlet saw Blue looming
over him. There was no answering amusement in the
American’s sky blue eyes.
Blue straddled his partner and gathered his red tunic in his strong hands. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever, do that again!” he said, banging Scarlet’s head on the floor with every word. “You are a completely, crazy, son-of-a-bitch, Metcalfe. I ought to knock your head until some sense gets lodged in there!”
“Sorry,” Scarlet
wheezed, gasping for breath. “Oh, but Adam, if you could have SEEN your faces!”
He started laughing again. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the World!”
“We could
have killed you, you lunatic!” Blue remonstrated, clambering off the still
breathless Scarlet and kneeling alongside him.
“Not very
likely, is it?” Scarlet managed to say between weak bouts of laughter.
He looked up
into the room to see every occupant staring at him, most angry but a few still
looked uncertain. He tried to calm himself down. Blue was still annoyed, he
could see that easily enough. The tight, thin lips and the clenched fist, clear
indications of the emotional turmoil within. But that was nothing compared to
the rage he saw in Symphony.
“You moron!”
she fumed. “You scared us all! And
– what is a hundred times worse, you made Dianne cry!”
“Not really,
Karen.” Rhapsody looked up to reveal her face. “I had to hide so you couldn’t
see me laughing.”
“You thought
it was funny?” Ochre asked. “You knew about this?”
“No. Not
until he called Captain Blue Adam. Then I guessed. It was clever, Paul,
but more than a little cruel,” she chided. “Poor Adam looked as if he was going
to throw up.”
“Never mind,
‘Poor Adam’!” Magenta snorted. “How do we know he isn’t a Mysteron still,
tricking us again!”
“Don’t start
that, Patrick, for pity’s sake,” Blue said wearily.
“Well, you all
kept telling me to lighten up and get in the mood of the occasion. I was only trying to oblige,” Scarlet
said, defensively, as he scrambled to his feet.
“I think I
prefer you as His Britannic Misery more than as a Satanic Mysteron,” Symphony
said, thawing a little towards the penitent Scarlet.
“His what?”
Scarlet said, affronted. “Britannic Misery!” He glared at the unfortunate Blue,
still kneeling on the floor, “And who’s bright idea was that? As if I
couldn’t guess.”
Blue looked
up and smiled. “Let’s just call it quits shall we?
You don’t really have a leg to stand on, do you, Your Majesty?”
Later, as
they sat over a coffee in the almost deserted canteen, Scarlet asked, “Was it
really your darkest nightmare? That
I might become a Mysteron again?”
Blue drained
his coffee. He took a moment to consider and said, with a slight shudder,
“You’ve never met Mrs Phoebe Arbuthnot, have you?”
Other stories from Marion Woods
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