HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc

This is the collection address for the Hallowed Spooks broadcast.

Responses delivered here will be read and processed as swiftly as possible, and your evening treat sent by return mail!

Hope you have a frightful night!

From: dropmix67@denmail.net
To: HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc
Subject: Contest Entry

The body contains only the string. Attached is four screencaptures of steel bulwark peppered with bullet holes. It is immediately apparent that these bullet holes were not just randomly fired, there is a purpose to them.

Solo.jpg
[The first image is of a human, full figured and very obviously female. Her mouth is an upturned (by the direction of her face) crescent, her hair a gravity defying mass of long locks. Random holes are scattered throughout her hair with light from the incendiary slugs used to make them still visible. That is all the detail that is given to the woman beside the outside of her stance: floating, presumably in free-fall, upside down in front of a large circle with a small round globe below and to the left of her.]

Descent.jpg
[The next image features the same woman, same place, same view of the world out the 'window'. The smile is gone, horror a scream etched in excruciating detail into the metal bulkhead used as canvas. Many of the stars in her hair are dark now, the few that are still alit are clustered closer towards her head, almost as a crown. The ends of her hair and hands and feet end in blocky mimicry of data streaming from a defeated foe.]

Paranoia.jpg
[The third image is more detailed than the others and shows a certain alien navi: short, stout, and only mostly humanoid. Her stilloute picked out entirely in the muted half-glow of dying embers. She is standing with her back facing the viewer, her eyestalks obviously craned toward a bank of moniters that are lined with bright white. Various dials and bars and overall detail is picked out in a much dimmer white. There is one moniter - placed off to the bottom right - that is picked out in the dark of cooled incendiary rounds. Within that moniter is a gravity defying spray of hair and an cresecent of a smile, all picked out in dark bullet holes and partially covered by a shadow cast on the bulwark-canvas itself.]

Freedom.jpg
[The last image image is of a minature satellite with outstretched flat rectangles and various antenna and spokes spreading out like rays around a stylized sun. Its tricky to catch but among the straight lines and angles of the satellite there is a now familiar, humanoid face. It's eyes are turned to the left where the image of a PET is burned just beyond the length of the antennas and spires. On the screen is a head stilleoutte picked out in dimming red of a wide oval shape with two smaller orbs extended from it but connected by carefully marked curves. There's more detail in the face here: eyes look straight out from the pods and the lids around them are lined, two slants lie above a longline in the main ovaloid shape that is curved up at the corners.]

From: GVanHurst@freewriterconnection.org
To: HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc
Subject: Script

This might be really valuable some day so I'm not sure if I should be sharing it around, but since you're asking for scary stories and that's like my job, I can't really refuse. If you're a looking to publish anything you throw in that cauldron let me know.

Anyway, enjoy this: an unfinished script, the opener for a movie I'm calling "Brick or Treat." I'm thinking of a follow up called "Brick or Treat 2" that I'll work on after this one. Enjoy.

From: Pirouette and Mikhail (WhiteSwanOfSharo@Dentech.Net)
To: HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc
Subject: Ghost Stories

Let me tell you a story of a young ballerina, who once understudied at a certain very famous theatre in Netopia. Her name was Anna, and she was young, but gifted. It was said her toes barely seemed to touch the ground at all as she danced, and she seemed almost to glide through their air, as though coming down again was merely an option. She was dedicated, and gave all of her time to dancing. She wanted nothing more than to truly fly as the swans and angels and fairies she depicted in her movements, and to show her art to the world.

Sadly, Anna was only permitted to understudy, for, as prestigious as her theatre was, and as great a testament to her talent and gifts as a placement there could be, the eternal Prima of the theatre was a very famous, well established dancer already, and would permit no young upstart to claim even a portion of her spotlight.

And so a year went by; several productions came and went, and Anna grew more beautiful and more skilled, yet still, she could not convince her managers to surrender any leading role to her.

Then there came a time, shortly before she would turn nineteen, that a billing came for a production that made her heart soar with hope. The lead role required a dancer of exceptional lightness upon her feet, and despite the Prima's own fame and skill, there was no question that Anna was best suited for the role. And so, the two were duly auditioned before their managers; this was to be her chance.

But the older Prima, she was jealous and afraid of Anna, and in secret, she sabotaged the girl's costume. It tore and slipped during her trial, and she fell. There is no forgiveness in the world of ballet; that was the end of her chance and her hopes for a career. She would never be given another chance now, and she wept while the Prima performed and took the role.

Anna spoke to no-one in the days that followed, and none were there to console her, for the production itself was in full energy and everyone was busy with their own work. For weeks, she was nothing but a pale and silent figure in the theatre, wearing a plain white leotard and nothing better as she watched and wept quietly to herself.

The opening night came, and all was in readiness. One of the other dancers, feeling pangs of sadness for the girl, decided to claim illness and offer her position to Anna for the night. It was only a secondary role, part of the line, and she knew that a ballerina as dedicated as Anna was would know all the parts, and be able to perform them, likely better than she could. The Prima was ready and had already made it clear she would have no need of Anna, after all.

When she searched the theatre, however, she could not find her. As the hours counted down, Anna was nowhere to be found, but the other dancer, she kept her worries to herself and kept searching. The performance began without her.

As the Prima took the stage and began, her steps, once so poised and perfect, they faltered. Try as she might, the woman seemed distracted, and her passes and leaps were shaky. Her face had gone pale, drained of blood and expression, and at the climax of the first act, she cried out, stumbling and falling to the stage. An intermission was called.

The Prima was helped back stage to recover, but she took a furious rage upon herself, cursing Anna, and demanding that she be found at once. Amidst her venom, she claimed that the missing girl had sabotaged her, gliding in and out of the high walks in full costume just like hers, deliberately trying to throw her off. She claimed she had jumped down at her at the end, but none of the others had seen such a thing.

A search was conducted. High at the top of the theatre, near the stairs to the attic, they found the girl who had gone to look for her, crying and holding herself, unable to talk. In the attic, where the doves of the theatre lived and roosted, they found Anna at last, dressed in full costume, gliding gently above the floor, her toes just inches from the boards, where she had hung herself by the neck.

Now, it is not uncommon to catch glimpses of Anna, dancing upon the stage when the theatre is silent, moving with grace and poise, and a lightness to her steps that never quite touch the boards. If you see her on a night when you are to perform in that very famous theatre... be sure to mend any bad blood you have with other dancers in your troupe before you go on stage, because Anna will be watching you.

From: UnhandledException Error: [Value cannot be 'null']
To: HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc
Subject: Scary Costumes!

Hello! That's a really nice costume, so I hope you don't mind if I send you a new one to try on, if you want to! this costume is based on the Púca, a northern Netopian creature very closely associated with Hallows observances, and with the ancient Samhain night in general.

The creature is a shape-changer who can appear to people as any number of things, but delights most in tricking them into a wild chase across the very worst and inhospitable countryside possible, for fun, and then leave then lost, wet, uncomfortable, irate and confused. It often takes the guise of a horse or some other riding animal, or a seemingly friendly dog.

In its natural form, a Púca is humanoid in shape, but bears the head of a beast – often a goat – and long, back-curling horns, with eyes that blaze with the pyres of the season. Hope you find it fun!

-Lyntael

Quote (Púca.GMO)

This outfit doesn't alter the wearer's height or general dimensions if hey already possess a mostly humanoid form, but otherwise gives them the form of a black-skinned human-like figure. It has hooves for feet, and extended foot and ankle joints to create bestial leg structure, and a shaggy coat of black fur that travels all the way up to groin height, thick enough to preserve modesty regardless of gender.

The fur stops at the hips, dipping a little lower in the centre front and lifting a little higher in the centre back, where a long, thin tail protrudes, also furred, reaching down to the ground. If the wearer is used to controlling a tail, they're capable of doing so; without any such familiarity, or lacking deliberate direction, it weaves and sways back and forth in a sinuous manner.

From the hips up, the skin is pitch black and left bare; females wearing the costume may opt to have their chest covered in a secondary protective band of fur that minimises and obscures detail, or it may be left off, if they're feeling cheeky; the outfit is not designed to be worn with any actual clothing.

The head becomes that of a goat, complete with very long horns which curve up and backwards by equal parts. While wearing this GMO, the wearer's eyes blaze with fire consistently, in a manner that grows or reduces in intensity based on emotive factors.

From: Courser (Email)
To: HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc
Subject: Found Footage?

Don't have much to share in the way of spooky stories or scary costumes, I'm afraid, but I did find something floating about the net that might make all of you net battlers out there look over your shoulder once or twice. Can't verify the source, but take a look for yourself...

((The message contains a video recording that seems to be a personal visual record of an unknown navigator))

Quote

The scene shows dark caverns with red rock and broken ground. Battle damage marks the terrain in many places, new and old blast marks and other damage is everywhere. The view weaves in a dizzying fashion as the navi whose eyes we see through rolls to one side then rights himself, extending a humanoid-seeming arm of grey metal into view and releasing a barrage watery darts the destroy the remaining two viruses across the way from him. We can hear some rough panting as the navi stands and rights himself.

“Okay, I think I'm done for now, Tray... I'm in pretty deep and I'm feeling pretty tired. We could push on another, but I'm taking too much hurt now, and our healing chips aren't keeping up any more. Next one could go bad if we get unlucky.” As the male voice spoke, the view moved about, collecting whatever viable data he could recover from the destroyed viruses.

“Sure thing. You'll be getting trick'or'treaters coming to the door soon anyway, won't you? I wouldn't want to be down here without you on the other side to back me up. Plus I wanna see all the cool costumes too. Let me just get the rest of this.... Okay, ready to come out.”

The view flickers for a moment, and an electronic screech cuts across the feed. The view wobbles to one side and drops, as though the navi had fallen to one knee. There's the edge of one of his metallic hands clutching near the edge of the view, likely holding his head.

“Damn, Tray, what was that? Tray? Tray, there's some major interference, I can barely get your signal. Yeah, yeah, I'll try and back-track. Might be too deep in the caves or something.” The view stands again and looks around, casting over a few exits from the blasted a cavern space.

“Say again? Yeah, I'll be careful. Oh, damn. Okay, that's not good... you know my SAS isn't set up to fight stand-alone. Hmm? Try again? Right, yeah, that might improve the signal a bit if we're lucky. Not like there's much to see down here.” As the view moves towards one of the exits, a hand rises up and the feed stops.

It comes back after a moment of black screen. The navi is somewhere different, still in a badly blasted cave system, though most of the battle scarring looks like it's quite old. The navi is looking around, casting between several tunnels, seemingly uncertain.

“Lost contact with my operator entirely now. No joke, I'm kind of worried, since the static is still messing with me, but I can't even confirm my PET tether right now. Recording again, just in case it might help act as a beacon or something.” From one corner of the view, a group of viruses begin to emerge from a tunnel and the navi swears. The view turns and begins running hard towards a different tunnel, in amidst slightly breathless mutterings about about not being in a condition to fight. The dash lasts another thirty seconds of uneven terrain and branching corridors, but if anything the ambient light has faded further by the time he stops, breathing hard.

“Damnit all... I've got no idea where I am now. Can't get through to Tray, can't fight viruses that find me. Might not be connected properly if it all goes wrong. How did this happen?” As the view lifts up and looks around, something moves across one of the tunnel branches, but the shape is too quick to see, save only a brief glint of metal. The navi swears again and the view yanks back to the spot, but there's nothing there.

“And now I'm jumping at shadows. Great...”

The view moves on, seeking a way out, though the navi doesn't talk to himself any further. It's not until he looks back at one point that it catches another glimpse of something in the shadows behind. It looks long and this, only very vaguely humanoid, but not like any virus. The navi stumbles backwards, tripping up to flip the view to the ceiling of the cavern for a moment, before scrambling over and beginning to run.

“Still recording? Good. Don't know what in Hades that was, but I don't want to be near it. Cross reference later...” Ahead in the dark shadows of the tunnel, the shape flashes across a fork. Long limbs, metal, maybe, something that might have been a human-like face, but maybe not. There's a static hiss that sounds vaguely like voice, but unintelligible, and a scrape of metal sliding against itself. The view skids to a halt amidst loud panting and swearing. It casts back and forth, before turning back the way it came and braking into a run own a different corridor. The cavern begins to open up into a wider area, with a series of columns. Much of the stone here looks scraped and torn by long, claw-like gouges and the navi looks around, backing away from the tunnel he just came through. His swearing as fallen silent and his breathing is tight and shallow, trying to be quiet.

A moment later, the view arches upwards sharply and a sound of choked off pain and effort cuts off into and excruciating gasp. The view curls back over again, looking down enough to see a long, thin hand, with equally distended fingers punching outward through a point in the navi's chest where his emblem presumably was. Damaged data trails cover the hand as its claws flex and clench. The view sways and static fuzzes across it, breaking up the image, before a second set of steeling black claws whip into sign from one side and stab inwards at the navi's face and eyes, and the feed goes to glitched static, then black.

Like I said, can't really confirm the source properly, just found it posted on a message board. someone said they found it floating as loose data when thy were busting in ACDC network. Don't know about the rest of you, but maybe take a friend with you if you go busting the deeper areas there...

-CourseMan

From: Charles Arkour (arkvenant00@zeromail.net)
To: HallowedSpooks@Roaming.dnc
Subject: happy hallows

made some jack o lanterns lmao enjoy
-c
[Attached: untitled.png]

Quote (Attachment)

[The attachment is that of a single picture, with an assembly of cardboard boxes of varying sizes, haphazardly painted with some orange paint. Each box has an eye, nose and sharp-toothed mouth cut out of them. Through the cutouts, flickering flames can be seen illuminating the boxes from inside, though one of the boxes seem to be lighting up on fire from the ghetto setup. In front of the boxes themselves, a very small pumpkin sits with its side having a tiny bit carved out, as if someone had started to carve it before giving up. To the side of the picture, a blurry hand gives a thumbs up.]