Hydras, Pumpkins, and Fools, Oh My

This was the answer to the October 2001 Challenge: Write a Young Hercules story entitled “Hydras, Pumpkins, and Fools, Oh My” that contains the following list items:

the phrase, "trick or treat"
pumpkins
a dagger
a sheet
a broken limb
a black cat
character(s) in costume
an outhouse
full moon
jell-o or it's greek equivalent
the phrase, "Welcome to my nightmare"

This came out more light-hearted than scary, and I “borrowed” a few urban legends, but I think everyone had a good time :) Comments and criticisms are always welcome, and as always, I do not own the boys, just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

Hercules shivered slightly and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. The chill that came over him had little to do with the declining temperature of the approaching nightfall, however. It was more related to the lengthening shadows that were giving the well traversed forest path an eerie, unfamiliar feel. Shaking his head slightly, the young demigod told himself that he was being ridiculous, but he quickened his pace all the same.

There was just something about this time of year. The days were getting shorter, the air was getting cooler, and the Eve of Hecate was almost upon them. A time to celebrate the mysterious moon goddess, offering gifts of food in hopes of placating her, for her power was strong and her fury could be great. Children often played pranks, in honor of Hecate’s devotion to the art of black magic, and told each other terrifying tales of the goddess and her ghostly minions. Hercules had always joined in the fun, but the images of Hecate that were described to him also unnerved him a bit. He’d never admitted it to anyone, but the thought of the unpredictable goddess, fiery torch in hand and accompanied by monstrous hounds, tended to give him the willies.

Hercules used to think that his young imagination was getting the best of him. And, as he’d grown, he had become more sensible and less tempted to give into the fear that the goddess inspired. But, as the Eve of Hecate rolled around every year, the demigod still tended to become a little jumpy, especially while walking through shadowy forests alone on the verge of night. So, he was very glad indeed when he spied the warm light shining welcomingly from the windows of Kora’s Inn. The place was almost deserted, and he immediately spotted Iolaus sitting at an empty table.

“Hey,” the blond greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Hercules answered.

“Well you found me,” Iolaus responded affably, carefully wrapping a gooey honey cake in some grape leaves.

“What are you doing?” the demigod questioned, watching his friend.

“Kora’s getting ready for the Eve of Hecate,” Iolaus told him. “Last year a bunch of kids were hanging around the place, playing little tricks on all the customers. Kora eventually had to give them all a treat to get them to go away. But the word spread, and before the night was over, every kid in the area had shown up here, demanding ‘trick or treat’. So, she’s preparing ahead of time this year. She’s just going to meet them at the door, give them a treat, and send them on their merry little ways. Neat, huh?”

“What a concept,” Hercules said dryly. “Bribing an annoying pest with food to get him to go away. I can’t believe Kora hasn’t tried that with you.”

“Very funny,” Iolaus snorted. “Anyway, Kora loves me. I don’t just work here for the dinars, you know. I’m laying the groundwork. Pretty soon, she won’t be able to live without me.”

“Iolaus.” The lovely innkeeper stuck her head around the kitchen door. “Are you through wrapping those honey cakes?”

“Almost,” he replied.

“Well, when you’ve finished, you can go. I don’t need you anymore tonight.”

“Yeah,” Hercules snickered. “You certainly are becoming invaluable.”

“Someday she’ll realize what she’s passing up,” Iolaus said loftily, reaching for another honey cake. “So why were you looking for me, anyway?”

“We got a message from Jason. He’s hosting some kind of party for the Eve of Hecate and he wants us to come.”

“Well,” the blond grinned. “I was beginning to think Mr. High and Mighty had forgotten all about his lowly commoner friends. A party in Corinth. You know what that means? An abundance of great food and pretty girls.”

“It’s not all going to be fun and games,” Hercules told his friend somberly. “This is a party for the rich, powerful, and royal. Jason’s worried that there could be trouble, so he’s asking us to come and help keep an eye on things.”

“I’m game,” Iolaus declared. “After all, the girls will flip when I tell them I’m a secret agent to the king.”

“But if you tell them, then its not a secret anymore.”

“Oh yeah. Better make that special agent.” The cadet rose from the table. “Come on, let’s go back to the Academy.”

“Iolaus, there’s just one more thing.”

“What?”

“It’s a costume party.”

Iolaus stopped, halfway to the door, to look back at his friend.

“Are you joking?”

Hercules shook his head.

“I hate dressing up in stupid costumes,” the blond grumbled, pushing open the door to the tavern. The sun had set while the cadets had been inside, and they now started back to the Academy in the dark. “Anyway, aren’t we too old for that sort of thing?”

“That could be questionable,” Hercules remarked, glad that he had someone to accompany him back through the dark wood.

“You’d think a bunch of stuffy kings would be above that kind of thing.”

Hercules just shrugged, and the pair continued on. Iolaus kept grumbling under his breath for several paces, then fell silent for awhile before turning to his friend, straining to see him in the dim light.

“Herc, since when does Jason worry about the security of Corinth? And even then, he has an entire army at his command. Why would he want US to back him up?”

“I don’t know,” the demigod answered thoughtfully. He had to admit that his friend did have a point. “Maybe there’s more to this than he’s telling us.”

A loud cracking noise suddenly startled both cadets. Warrior instincts primed, they immediately sprang backwards as a large tree branch came crashing to the ground amidst a barrage of creaking and snapping twigs.

“Are you all right?” Hercules asked, rolling over and trying to see his friend through the dark.

“Yeah, you?”

“I’m ok.”

The cadets stood and stared at the broken limb, which had fallen onto the exact spot where they had been standing moments before.

“Maybe someone doesn’t want us to make that party,” the demigod said slowly.

“Herc, get a grip. Its just a coincidence. These trees are all old, and branches break off all the time. It was just one of those freak things.” Iolaus’ words were confident, but there was a slight touch of nervousness to his voice. “Come on, it’s late.”

Hercules skirted around the fallen limb and followed his friend closely as they walked the remaining distance back to the Academy. The incident hadn’t done anything to help his jumpy mood. In fact, he was starting to get a distinct bad feeling about the upcoming Eve of Hecate, sure that he heard the faint sound of laughter drifting across the nighttime breeze.

“I can’t believe Cheiron let us have a few extra days off,” Iolaus enthused as they made their way through the crowded Corinthian marketplace. “What’s up with that, anyway? The old guy been sniffing the inkwells or something?”

“The messenger that brought the scroll from Jason for us had one for Cheiron, too,” Hercules explained. “I assume it explained the situation and asked for our help. After all, you can’t say ‘no’ to a king.”

“Yeah,” the blond snorted. “Jason may be the king of his castle, but stand him up in front of Cheiron again and he’d be a lowly cadet in about three seconds. One hoof stamp would be all it would take.”

Hercules grinned, knowing that his friend spoke the truth. Cheiron was a fair teacher and he cared about his students, but he demanded, and received, the proper respect. The demigod was sure that with one withering look from the centaur, Jason would forget about being king and would slip right back into the role of humble cadet. Once in that position, there was no escaping, no matter how much power or nobility one acquired.

“Hey, slow down a sec,” Iolaus urged, tugging at his partner’s arm. “Let me look here. Maybe I can find something I can wear for a costume.”

“Iolaus, you need to decide on something,” Hercules groaned. “The party is tomorrow night.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” the blond demanded indignantly. He turned and walked up to the nearest vendor, eyes scanning the wares for sale in hopes of gaining inspiration.

“All right,” the demigod sighed. “Let’s see what we can find.” He checked the vendor booths nearest him, then waved his friend over. “How about this?” he suggested, draping a large bolt of linen over his partner.

“And what is this supposed to be?” The voice was slightly muffled.

“You’re a... I don’t know... Some kind of spirit or something.”

“Herc, as someone who’s visited the other side, let me ask you a question. While you were there, just how many spirits did you see running around with sheets over their heads?”

“It’s symbolic, Iolaus. Meant to give you an ethereal, unnatural look. It implies a bodiless spirit.”

“It’s stupid, that’s what it is,” the blond snapped, losing patience. He pulled the fabric off of him, thrusting it back at the woman running the stall and smoothing his unruly curls. “That is the dumbest costume idea I’ve ever heard of. Everyone will think I’m an idiot if I show up in that thing. Symbolic my....”

“You’ll look even stupider,” Hercules interjected. “If you show up without any costume at all. Besides, it isn‘t that important what you wear, just as long as you‘re in the spirit of things.”

“That’s easy for you to say,“ Iolaus groused. “After all, Hephaestus is making your costume.“ The blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. Come on, Jason’s waiting for us.”

As the pair arrived at the castle gate, the young king greeted his friends warmly, genuinely happy to see them. Such a great portion of his life had been spent attending to royal duties, both as prince at his father’s side and now as king, that he had missed out on a lot of childhood fun. He loved spending time with Hercules and Iolaus, because for a little while, it allowed him to forget about his responsibilities and just be ‘one of the guys’.

Jason, being all too familiar with Iolaus’ never-ending appetite, had made sure to have a hearty meal waiting for them. As they ate, they spent the time catching up, laughing and teasing with an easy camaraderie. But Hercules was anxious to discuss the matter that had been nagging at him, so as the empty plates were being cleared away he turned to his friend in utmost seriousness.

“Jason, what’s going on? Why are we here? I mean really.”

“I didn’t want to go into it in a scroll,” the king began, pushing back his chair a little and shifting to a more comfortable position. “You know, just in case it fell into hands other than yours. But two weeks ago my guards apprehended a man who had broken into the castle. They were calling for the death penalty, assuming that he was an assassin. The guy insisted that he hadn’t come to hurt anyone, but that he was a thief.”

“After the crown jewels?” Iolaus remarked absently.

“I don’t think so,” Jason continued. “But before he could tell us any more, a fireball just came out of nowhere and consumed him. He dissolved in flames before any of us could do anything.”

“Fireballs don’t just come out of nowhere,” Hercules said quietly. “Sounds like Ares had a hand in it.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” the king agreed. “And if that’s the case, he wouldn’t be after such trivial items as money or jewels.”

“What was he after?” the demigod asked, almost to himself.

“I can guess,” Jason answered grimly. He reached down into his boot and pulled out a small dagger, setting it carefully on the table.

“Why would Ares be after a dagger?” Iolaus wondered.

“It’s not an ordinary dagger,” Jason explained. “When I was little, my father showed this to me. He had hidden it behind a secret panel in the castle walls, and I had all but forgotten about it until now.”

“What’s so special about it?” Hercules asked.

“The story my father told me was that this dagger was cursed by Hecate, herself. Most of the time, its just your general garden variety dagger. But, if the blade tastes blood on the Eve of Hecate, it possesses and transforms the one holding it, turning him into an unstoppable killing machine.”

Jason paused in his tale to let his words sink in to his companions. Hercules and Iolaus glanced at each other briefly, then focused their eyes on the gleaming dagger before them.

“I don’t know who originally had the dagger, but it secretly ended up with my father for safekeeping. He hid it away, and as far as I know, I’m the only one he ever told about it.”

“Something like that in the hands of Ares...” Hercules didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have the words to describe the horror that such a weapon in his half brother’s possession could cause. But he didn’t need to say it, as his two friends were more than capable of drawing their own mental pictures.

“That’s why I asked you two to come,” Jason concluded. “As good as my guards are, they’re used to fighting mortal armies. Hercules, you’ve dealt with Ares before. I was hoping that if he does try to make trouble, you could handle him. And both you guys will draw a lot less suspicion than a roomful of armed guards.”

“Jason, you know you can always count on us. We’d be glad to help.”

The young king broke into a huge smile at the demigod’s words. He knew that taking on Ares was dangerous, and he was relieved to hear that his friends would be there to help. A whole army of guards sworn to protect their king did not even come close to the comfort he felt at having his two best, and most trusted, friends by his side.

For the remainder of the evening, the three young warriors engaged in the jovial camaraderie that fell so easily to them. But when morning arrived to herald the new day, all of them arose with a serious, single-minded purpose. They began over breakfast, discussing the layout of the castle and going over security plans. Jason had decided to hold onto the dagger, rather than hide it again, so that he could be sure of its whereabouts at all times. A few bodyguards that were to be disguised in costume were instructed not to let their king out of their sights. Hercules and Iolaus also promised to stick close, and would remain alerted for any sign of Ares, Strife, or Discord.

The rest of the castle was also overcome with a flurry of activity. Unknowing of the potential danger which loomed over them, the servants were all scurrying to ready the kingdom for the impending party. Tray after tray of food was being prepared, cases of wine were being brought up from the cellar, and decorators were falling over themselves as they readied the banquet room and the great hall. Finally, everything began falling into place, and apart from some last minute preparations, the frenzy of activity began to die down as the hour of the party neared.

Hercules sat alone in his room, looking out the window at the city below. Darkness was beginning to fall, and he could see glowing torches igniting through the streets. The people of Corinth were celebrating the Eve of Hecate with their own party, and the festivities were about to begin. The demigod sent out a fervent wish that the people in the kingdom would enjoy the fun, never any the wiser that a cruel god held their fates in his hand. Hercules shut his eyes, for a moment envisioning people running and screaming as a slaughter ensued. With a quick shake of his head, the demigod opened his eyes and took a deep breath. No matter what it cost, he would just have to ensure that such a scene did not happen.

“Hey, Hercules!” Hephaestus’ booming greeting almost made the demigod jump out of his skin. He turned from the window to see the god of the forge standing behind him.

“Heph, can’t you knock or something before you do that?” Hercules gasped.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the god grinned. “But I had to pop in and drop off your costume.” He snapped his fingers, and a large, metal object appeared next to the demigod.

“Wow,” Hercules whispered, taking in the fearsome appearance of the disguise. “Heph, this is amazing.”

“And it works, too,” Hephaestus beamed proudly. “I built in controls to work the heads independently. Here, let me show you.”

The god helped Hercules slip the gleaming bronze creation over his head. It was deceivingly lightweight, thanks to a special alloy that Hephaestus had invented. Once he had it situated on his shoulders, the demigod turned toward the long mirror on the wall to look at himself through the concealed eyeholes. The result was astounding.

A snakelike body covered his own, while a pointed tail protruded behind him. Three monstrous heads adorned the top of his costume, cast in metal but frighteningly realistic. Glowing red gems gave the eyes a living feel, and the sharp fangs in each moveable mouth were poised to strike. As Hephaestus had promised, controls inside the costume allowed Hercules to animate the faces and swivel the heads in any direction, all independently of each other.

“Heph, thank you,” the demigod said sincerely, once he was able to look away from his own, gruesome image. “You are a genius.”

“You’re welcome,” Hephaestus told him. “Anything I can do to help. But I have to split. Silenus invited me to his bash tonight, and satyr parties are always a wild time. Have fun, Hercules.”

With a small wave, the god vanished. Hercules turned back to the mirror, getting used to the feel of his costume and practicing with the controls until a knock on the door interrupted him. As he swung the door open, the demigod grinned to see Jason visibly start at the sight of him.

“Whoa,” the king enthused, entering the room and making an approving circle around his friend. “That is incredible.”

“Yeah. Heph really outdid himself this time.”

“Well, next year he can do mine,” Jason declared with a small shake of his head, the bells on the fronds of his jester cap jingling slightly as he moved.

“Hey, guys, are you....” Iolaus’ shout was cut off as he burst into Hercules’ room and caught sight of his friends. “Herc, what in Hades are you supposed to be?”

“Have you ever had a class that you DIDN’T sleep through?” Jason asked him.

“What is it?” Iolaus repeated, ignoring the king.

“I’m a hydra,” Hercules told him.

“Which you would know, if you paid attention a little more often.” Jason couldn’t resist the dig.

“Why do I have to know about hydras?” the blond complained. “They are mythical beasts. M-Y-T-H-I-C-A-L. As in, not real.”

“You’ll be sorry the day you run into one,” Hercules warned him.

“The day I run into a hydra is the day I get married,” Iolaus declared vehemently. He turned to cast an appraising look at Jason. “Why did you pick that costume?”

“I just thought it would be kind of funny,” Jason replied. “You know, a king dressing up like a court jester. But while we are on the subject, where is your costume? You do have one, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Iolaus said, a bit woundedly. He reached into the small bag he’d been carrying and pulled out a bit of black hair attached to a string. Sliding it over his head, he adjusted the string over his ears and turned to his friends. “What do you think?”

“A beard?” Jason crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s your costume? You’re going as Iolaus with a beard?”

“No, I’m the EVIL Iolaus,” the blond explained. “See, I have this theory that there’s another dimension that coexists with ours. We all have identical counterparts, evil twins. The way you tell the evil twin from the good is that the evil twins all have beards.”

Hercules exchanged a long look with Jason.

“Welcome to my nightmare,” the demigod sighed.

“Come on,” Jason said with a long suffering shake of the head. “Let’s get downstairs. The guests are going to start arriving any minute.”

Iolaus’ loud, insistent diatribe over the merits of his costume quickly ceased as the three entered the banquet hall. The festive streamers and brightly colored gourds serving as decorations weren’t the reason for his sudden silence. Rather, it was the long table heavily laden with all sorts of delectable treats which had captured his rapt attention.

“Iolaus,” Hercules warned as he saw his friend fixated on the food. “Don’t forget why we’re here tonight.”

“Can’t expect me to battle Ares on an empty stomach,” the blond argued. Slowly, he walked up and down the length of the table, heaping a plate with a little of everything, until he came to a tray of a molded, opaque substance. “Jase, what is this?” he asked, poking the mound with a spoon and watching it jiggle.

“Just try it, you’ll like it,” the king told him.

Almost hesitantly, Iolaus dug into the wiggling mass and tasted a bit.

“It’s pretty good, actually,” he declared, spooning more onto his plate. “It’s kind of fruity.”

“It’s something our new chef came up with,” Jason said, a twinkle in his eye. “He makes it from boiled hooves.”

Hercules had been about to sample the mysterious dessert, but thought better of it upon hearing that bit of information. Iolaus looked distressed for a second, then shrugged and shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

Just then, the man at the door announced the arrival of the first guests. From that point on, Jason was regulated to his role as king, greeting and welcoming all the visiting nobles and royals to his kingdom. Hercules trailed after his friend, trying not to look conspicuous (which was hard, in light of his spectacular costume) as he studied each of the arriving guests and scanned the room for any signs of trouble. He had lost track of Iolaus in the crowd, but once the stream of people entering the castle had ceased and Jason was able to join the party proper, Hercules quickly found his friend flirting with a trio of princesses.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” the demigod interrupted, giving a shy smile to the lovely young women.

“In a minute, ok?” the blond replied. He went back to his tale, relaying the events with a frightening intensity that had the three girls listening wide-eyed. Hercules quickly grew impatient and signaled to his friend to wrap it up. “Herc,” Iolaus complained. “I’m just getting to the good part and you’re killing the mood.”

“Let me save us some time, then,” the demigod interjected. “The guy finds a bloody hook hanging from the outhouse door.”

“That’s not what happened,” Iolaus said indignantly as the girls gasped in surprise. “It was hanging from the side of the chariot!”

“Whatever. You made it all up anyway.”

“I did not,” the blond protested. “It’s a true story. It really happened to a friend of a friend of my cousin, I swear.”

“All right, I’m sorry,” Hercules placated him. “But will you come and talk to me now?”

“Fine.” Iolaus sighed before turning to bow theatrically before his audience. “Excuse us, please, ladies.” The girls watched him walk away, whispering and giggling slightly amongst themselves. Being of royal blood and used to the reserved snobbery of princes, the girls had found the cadet’s open demeanor rather refreshing. And rich or poor, Iolaus was indeed a charmer, with a golden smile and big blue eyes that were hard to resist.

“What are you doing?” Hercules asked his friend impatiently.

“Herc, relax,” the blond told him. “We are at a party, remember? I’m keeping an eye out for trouble, but my other eye is just trying to have a little fun while we’re here. And speaking of which....”

Trouble became the last thing on his mind as both those blue eyes fixated on a curvaceous form clad in a skintight, black leather suit. The woman’s back was to him, but it was obvious that she was dressed as a cat by the ears that were sticking up through her blond waves and from the tail that waved jauntily just above... a place where Iolaus knew he shouldn’t have been staring.

“Don’t even think about it,” Hercules advised, knowing all too well what his friend was planning. “Black cats are nothing but bad luck.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to handle them,” the blond grinned, smoothing down his wild curls and adjusting his beard. “Just stand back and watch the master work.”

“But, Iolaus...” The demigod was cut off as his friend held up his hand, signaling silence. Hercules stopped, watching Iolaus approach the woman and knowing that he deserved what he was about to get. The blond crept up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing alone...” The sentence was cut off as Iolaus found himself flat on his back on the floor, the wind knocked out of him.

“I tried to tell you,” Hercules smirked, having no sympathy.

“I’d recognize that flip anywhere,” the blond groaned, peering up to see Lilith staring down at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” she informed him loftily, reaching down a hand to help him up. “After all, you didn’t think Jason would entrust such an important mission to you two alone, did you?”

“Yeah, I guess if Ares shows up you can always scratch him to death.” Iolaus’ remarks landed him back down on the floor.

“Why don’t you go back and talk with your fan club?” Hercules suggested, helping his friend up as he nodded in the direction of where the princesses were still watching and giggling. “I think they might be safer.”

“Yeah,” Iolaus agreed with a small groan. “Anyway, I haven’t told them the one about the killer hiding in the back of the woman’s wagon yet.”

Hercules shook his head, which he seemed to do a lot of when Iolaus was around, as he watched his friend return to where the three young woman were gathered. After making small talk with Lilith for a few minutes, the demigod began to restlessly pace through the party, starting at every voice that got a bit too shrill and jumping at every clatter of a dropped goblet. Finally, as the evening grew long, he huddled up with Jason.

“It’s getting late,” the demigod stated confidentially. “Maybe we were wrong about Ares coming after the dagger.”

Astonished gasps and a few screams announced the arrival of the god of war as he materialized in the middle of the great hall of the castle in a flash of fire and smoke. Ares laughed triumphantly at the reaction his presence had garnered, savoring the terror he inspired before he turned to face his half brother.

“Hold that thought,” Jason muttered to Hercules as he drew himself up to look as imposing and regal as he could manage.

“I think we all know what I’m here for,” Ares growled, a deeply sinister look creeping over his features. “So why don’t you spare yourselves a butt kicking and hand it over?”

“Why don’t you come and get it?” Hercules taunted, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“So, you want a butt kicking?” The god of war smiled. “Good. I’m happy to oblige.”

“You and what army?” Iolaus shouted, skidding over to make a stand with his friends.

Ares laughed again and snapped his fingers. In answer to his unspoken command, all of the pumpkins that had been serving as decorations began to swell and pulse. Long, tangled vines sprouted from the gourds to serve as arms and legs, and glowing green eyes and a ragged slit mouth appeared on each bright orange head.

“You just HAD to ask,” Hercules said, giving Iolaus a pointed look. The blond shrugged apologetically, but before he could answer, the newly animated minions attacked. Instantly, the three young warriors spaced out, taking on the approaching hordes as the palace guards rushed up to help and Lilith joined the fray.

“I told them they were putting out too many pumpkins,” Jason complained as he snatched a decorative sword from the wall and sliced through one of the deceptively festive orbs, felling his attacker. The legions were many, but fortunately for the heroes, they were relatively easy to stop. Iolaus especially learned this lesson as he tried to kick one of the pumpkin warriors and got his boot firmly stuck into its squishy head. With the guards to help, it was only a matter of minutes before Ares’ army was beaten to a pulp, literally.

“Good thing you have lots of servants, Jase,” Iolaus remarked, looking at all the carnage. “I’d hate to have to clean up this mess. Maybe we should make Ares do it?”

“Oh, I would love to continue this,” the god sneered. “But unfortunately, the period that the dagger can be useful is rapidly ending. So play time is over, boys. I want that dagger, now.”

When no one moved, Ares began striding up menacingly to the young warriors. They, along with the guards, went into attack mode, but they had all underestimated the deadly seriousness of Ares’ threats. With another finger snap, all of the guards were instantly turned into tiny, toy wooden soldiers. A fireball sent Hercules sprawling backwards, and a second one sealed the opening in his costume, trapping him inside. Iolaus was also tied up, finding that his beard was suddenly growing, wrapping around his limbs until he was securely contained in a cocoon of hair. With a loud yell, Lilith launched herself at the god of war, only to drop at his feet, transformed into a hissing, but ineffective, kitten.

“I hate resorting to these party tricks,” Ares said regretfully. “I am the god of war. Battle is in my blood, after all, and I’d much rather handle these types of problems with brute force. However, I’m running out of time.” The god turned toward Jason with pure malice. “So, prince. Hand over that dagger, and do it now.”

“I happen to be KING of Corinth,” Jason told him, bristling with indignation.

“More like the king of fools,” the god drawled, taking in the bright costume of the young king. “But, you are strong and you do have a warrior’s training. Maybe I’ll use you.”

“Use me for what?” he asked, a bit of nervousness creeping into his voice.

“As my weapon,” Ares informed him. “I need someone to wield the dagger, my dear boy. Once you use it to draw blood, you won’t be able to stop. You’ll be possessed by the hunger for death, and no one in your path will be spared, starting with your pathetic friends, including Hercules. Just think of it. My bastard half brother dead, and a blood crazed warrior on the loose. From now on, this day will be known as the Eve of Ares.” The god laughed evilly as Jason looked for a means of escape, but there was nowhere to go. An iron first closed around his throat, hoisting the young king into the air.

Gasping and choking, Jason clawed at the hand holding him as Ares reached down with his free hand and pulled the gleaming dagger from inside the king’s boot. Dropping him onto the floor, the god admired the shining blade for a moment, before looking around the room for the dagger’s first victim. He was momentarily distracted by a metallic pounding. Identifying it as Hercules banging on the sides of his costume, Ares smirked and walked over to rap lightly on the bronzed metal.

“Hephaestus does good work, doesn’t he?” the god gloated. “That metal of his is indestructible. So bang all you want, little brother. It won’t do you any good.”

Ares turned and tossed the dagger toward Jason. Instinctively, the king caught it.

“You can’t make me use this, Ares,” he declared vehemently.

“Then you’ll watch as I slaughter everyone in this room,” the god threatened, bending down to scoop up the black kitten at his feet. “Starting with her.”

“No, don’t!” Jason shouted, starting to run toward them as Ares held up the mewling kitten, ready to wring her neck.

Iolaus, who had been busily hacking away at his renegade beard with his own dagger, managed to struggle free at that moment. Leaping up unexpectedly from the mound of hair, he took advantage of Ares’ momentary surprise to snatch the kitten out of his grasp. Undaunted, the god of war grabbed Jason, wrapping one strong arm around his chest and securing the hand with the dagger with the other arm. The king cried out and tried to resist, but Ares’ hand was crushing his fingers around the hilt of the dagger as he forced him to move toward Iolaus.

With a loud hiss, the black kitten leapt out of Iolaus’ arms straight into the god’s face, clawing and spitting as she went. The attack was enough to make Ares release his hold on the king and stumble backwards. He was suddenly hit from behind, as Hercules worked the controls inside his costume to make one of the heavy Hydra heads swing forward, connecting hard with the god of war. The force of the blow propelled Ares forward, straight into Jason’s arms where the cursed dagger imbedded itself into his gut.

The god crumpled to the ground, doubled over in pain from the wound. Jason stood, staring at the bloody dagger in his hand in a state of shocked disbelief. Ares grit his teeth, breathing hard as the deep gash in his stomach sealed itself and the pain subsided. Once he was whole again, he rose triumphantly, only to see that the young king was still standing before him, a killing spree obviously the last thing on his mind.

“What is going on?” the god demanded angrily.

“It’s very simple, Ares.” The room was filled with a soft glow, the glow of moonlight, as Hecate materialized before them. “The blood of a mortal activates the curse. But the blood of a god renders it inert.”

“But... I...You... That isn’t fair!” Ares wailed, not wanting to admit defeat once more.

“Don’t you remember why I cursed that dagger in the first place?”

Ares muttered something incomprehensible.

“Years ago,” the goddess explained. “Ares arranged to start a war in a village near here on my day of honor. So, I appeared to the people and told them that I had cursed one of the daggers in the village. If it tasted blood on the Eve of Hecate, an unconditional slaughter would befall their entire town. Needless to say, they didn’t know which dagger had been cursed so obviously they didn’t dare fight on my night. The next day, I took the dagger and gave it to a trusted priest, instructing him to find somewhere safe to hide it. And it has been kept hidden, up until tonight. Now, the curse has been broken. So, Ares, take your leave of these people now before I have you in front of Zeus for ruining my celebration.”

The god of war grumbled and pouted, but obediently left, uttering threats as he vanished. Hecate raised her hands, emitting a soft glow of light that stretched into all corners of the great hall, righting all the wrongs that Ares had inflicted, including freeing Hercules from his metal prison and returning Lilith to her rightful form.

Before she vanished, Hercules took a good look at the goddess who had always inspired fear in him. She was bathed in a soft glow of light, illuminating her silvery, flowing hair and making her skin seem translucent and pale. Her eyes were disturbingly blank, as white and clear as the moon itself. She did not have the fiery torch or the hounds that legend stated always accompanied her, and in the flesh, she was not as frightening as the demigod imagined her to be. But, he cautioned himself not to discount her. Hecate had helped them this time, but Hercules suspected that the stories of her fearsome temper should not be taken lightly. He sensed a rage underneath her calm exterior, ready to erupt if she felt slighted or wronged. As if she could read his mind as he assessed her, the moon goddess smiled slightly at Hercules, nodding to him before she disappeared, leaving them all to continue the celebration in her honor.

However, after all that had happened, no one really was in the party mood any longer. The festivities broke up quickly, with the members of neighboring kingdoms soon departing for home and the overnight guests bidding goodnight and heading for their rooms.

“That was some party, Jason,” Iolaus declared when everyone had left save for the four friends.

“I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” the king declared somberly. “Corinth is safe again, thanks to you.”

“Anytime,” Hercules told his friend. “But lets just make it a good while before your next costume party, ok?”

“I’ll second that,” Lilith added, shuddering as she envisioned the rest of her life trapped in feline form. “But since it’s almost morning, do you think there’s any sense in going to bed?”

“Well, if you still want to celebrate the Eve of Hecate, I know some really great scary stories,” Iolaus volunteered eagerly. “Ok. There was a guy and a girl, and their chariot got stuck in the mud one night on a dark, deserted road. It was really late, and the guy decided that he would go for help, and he told his girlfriend to stay in the chariot, no matter what. Anyway...”

“You know,” Lilith interrupted hastily. “Maybe I will try and get a couple hours sleep after all.”

“I think I’m going to turn in, too,” Jason announced. “Good night, guys. And thank you again.”

“Since the party appears to be officially over,” Iolaus rationalized, watching his two friends make a quick exit. “I guess no one will mind if I finish off the food.”

He dashed back into the banquet room, and Hercules rose from his chair to go and stand at the window. The luminous full moon was beginning to wane, signaling that dawn’s bright light was not far away.

“It’s funny,” the demigod said softly as Iolaus reappeared at his side with a full plate. “The Eve of Hecate always used to scare me. But I never really stopped to think about it. What is so scary about people dressing up in costumes and telling stories that are all based on legend and myth, when I have real life gods like Ares and Hera in my life, doing all they can to literally kill me?”

“The point of it is, Herc, is that sometimes its fun to be scared. Its fun to hear those stories, because they are creepy, but you know they aren’t really true. Its a distraction from the real life horrors that people face every day.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Besides,” the blond continued. “Those stories are scary, because the hero that gets killed is missing the one thing that you have in real life.”

“What’s that?” Hercules asked.

“A bunch of friends watching your back. Just let Ares try and get to you through us!”

Iolaus grinned and offered the demigod an extra spoon he‘d brought back. Hercules grinned back at his partner, knowing that even in jest, he spoke the truth. No matter what the gods threw at him, Hercules knew he would always have his friends behind him, and that was indeed a reassuring thought. Taking the spoon from Iolaus, the demigod plunged it into the remains of the jiggling, gelled dessert. After the adventure they had just had, suddenly boiled hooves didn’t seem like such a dangerous thing.

Disclaimer: No pumpkins were smashed during the writing of this story.

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