Pumpking

Issue 47

4 days without incident

Phantom's big idea was going to get me killed. My sense of self-preservation whined at me as I stared at myself in the mirror.

Somehow he had convinced the Prime Minister of Australia to hand me a medal of bravery during the crisis in my neighbourhood. Publically, in front of hundreds of people, I would be praised as a hero. Apparently it would make Combustion unable to do anything but show up and try and take me out. The story had been running in the papers for a week now and people would be eager to see a 'regular citizen' get an award for protecting and helping others even though I wasn't in the Pantheon.

I was wearing another dress that he had picked out. It was a long, supple affair, clinging in ways that made me a little worried. The colour was a purple so dark it made my hair seem blood-red. I'd run a straightening iron through my rough locks and spent almost an hour in the mirror, applying my makeup as perfectly as I could.

The evening gown had no sleeves, a square chest with a simple, tasteful V indent between my breasts. It made me feel like a doll princess.

It was a bad dress to die in. I don't know what a good dress to die in would be, but this was not it. This was a 'such a pity' dress. I pressed my orange-red lips together as I looked down at my figure. It was too much, surely.

"That is stunning, Dion."

"I think it's too much."

"Not for meeting a prime minister. Besides, you look incredible." Gaston took my necklace and secured it behind my neck, leaving a light kiss on my nap as he did.

I shivered and shook my head. "Please don't start anything, I don't want to be late or something."

He nodded, properly admonished with that. "I know. Don't worry. Phantom and I will be there to keep you safe."

I supposed that was to make me more comforted than I was. I had two of the most powerful men in the world to stop a serial killer from blowing up the building around us. I nodded and finished adjusting the skirts. "Alright, let's get a move on- I need to grab those squash off Phantom before we go."

The plan was simple- and relied on Combustion's mad hate to ensure that he would be there; wanting to crush me once and for all, and force a confrontation with him. So far he had been careful, reserved from the scenes of his crimes, but tonight, well, Phantom thought tonight would be too much for Combustion to risk not attending in person.

I was not going in there without a squash or a gourd.

Phantom was waiting for us at the teleporters. He looked like he'd been poured into his suit, perfectly made and tapered to fit his physique under it. I wondered at his choice of plain whites, but Daystar was the same, a plain white suit, they planned on blending in, dressed as waiters.

There were so many ways this plan could go wrong it was almost staggering, but by that account, it was simple, straight-forward and for that I liked it. We relied only on one uncertainty, Combustion's hatred. How much did he loathe me? How far would that take him?

Again I wondered about this serial killer I'd never met or seen. Why target Samhain and by extension, me? What had happened in their reality that had driven him for vengeance so insanely?

The auditorium in the National Museum of Bravery was beautiful. Black stone pillars rose in a roman style- eight of them reached a glass ceiling and each one was filled with names of Pantheon members and regular folk who had earned a medal of honour or bravery. Most were awarding post-humorously.There were two exists and entry-points. A small emergency exit behind the main auditorium stage and the main double-doors from the rest of the museum.