Fright Night. What Scares You?

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Couple uses Halloween to scare one another.

*

"It's Halloween night, fright night, Roger. Let's do something scary," said Anne to her boyfriend with a foreboding look.

"Scary? You can't scare me, Anne. Been there, done that, I've seen it all and experienced it all. I've been a cop too long to be scared," said Roger waving a hand of disinterest with his usual comportment of arrogant smugness, before giving her his customary little laugh.

"Ha! You don't think you can be scared? You don't think I can scare you? I can scare you," said Anne nodding her blonde head.

"Besides, you know games aren't my thing, never have been. Action is. Give me some action, Anne. Let's have sex, baby," he said wrapping an arm around Anne's slender waist and following her curvy lines, before reaching around to cup her sweet ass with one hand and feel her ample breast with the other.

"No, I want to make you scream like a girl first," she said with a laugh, while pushing him away.

"If what you want to do is scream, baby, I can make you scream," he said in his best Barry White voice and, pulling her close again to give her a kiss, a grope and a feel. "Let's get it on."

"No," said Anne pushing him away with two hands pressed hard against his muscular chest. "In honor of the Halloween holiday, I want to do something different, instead of just going to bed and having sex. We don't go anywhere. We don't do anything. All we do is screw."

"That's not true, Anne, and you know it. Most times you just blow me."

"You're a real comedian, Roger," she said giving him the fisheye. "Just this once, I want to have some Halloween holiday fun. Just once, without you being so God almighty and acting as if you know it all, done it all, and been through it all, I'd like to scare the bejesus out of you," she said with a laugh.

"I already told you, Anne. I don't scare. Sorry," said Roger with tiredness and giving her a deadpan stare, as if sizing up a suspect on the street. "When I can stand over a dead, bloodied body eating a jelly donut or a hot dog with everything on it without puking, I've already passed the not able to scare test. Too damn desensitized, I'm numb from the years of seeing really scary things."

"Scary things? Ha! You haven't seen scary stuff until you work as a social worker in the Department of Welfare and Human Services and a mother comes in with her three, small, sick children with no job, no money, no food, and no place to live," said Anne with a satisfied smile. "Now that's scary."

"Okay, I'll play your silly game," said Roger making eye contact with his sexy girlfriend. "And you ain't seen scary, until you come across a prostitute beaten to a bloodied pulp and dumped in a dumpster, multiple dumpsters," said Roger raising the stakes. "Now that's scary, that is, to anyone other than me. I've seen that kind of horror lots of times before."

"That's pretty scary but, unfortunately, I can beat that," said Anne without the sensitivity and innocence she once had, when she took the job as social worker for the Department of Social Services, right out of college, ten years ago.

She looked at Roger with a faraway look once only reserved for soldiers coming home from war but now a look that included traumatized police officers, social workers, doctors, nurses, EMTs, and all the others who deal with accidents, illnesses, and death on a daily basis.

"Go ahead, give it your best shot, Anne. I'm ready," said Roger. "Scare me."

"You haven't seen scary, until you visit a client's home and see roaches everywhere, a rat in the crib eating a crying baby, and another toddler laying face down dead in dirty bathtub water. You haven't seen scary, until you see a mother foaming at the mouth, her eyes rolled back in her head, and here dead from an overdosed of heroin. Seeing all of that is one thing, but trying to pick up the pieces to help her survivors is another, especially when the state is cutting our budget. Now, that's some scary shit."

"Okay, I admit, we've both been desensitized from seeing some scary shit, but the fact remains that you can't scare me," said Roger with a shrug, while remaining steadfastly persistent in his claim of not being able to be frightened.

"Oh, yeah?" Anne looked at her boyfriend with insight. "I can scare you. I can scare the shit right out of you. I can scare you senseless. I can make you cry, you'd be so scared."

"Oh, yeah. Unlike you, Anne, I don't take my work home with me. Unlike you, I don't get emotionally involved with my victims and perpetrators in the way you do with your clients taking them in your home and giving them food and a place to sleep for the night. Unlike how you treat your job as a religious calling, my job is just a job and nothing more than a Lieutenant's paycheck."

"Liar. I've seen you worry over so victim. I've seen that look of concerned horror on your face more than once," said Anne.

"Concerned horror? Yeah, sure, I admit that I'm physically and mentally drained, but when I come home, I close my front door and leave the world behind. I turn on the TV, flop on the couch with a beer, and file all the day's activities away, until the next day, when I put on my badge and holster my gun. Sorry, Anne, but you can't scare me."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Roger. I can scare you. You're just as emotionally invested and physiologically connected as am I. Who are you trying to kid? I've seen the looks of sadness on your face over something that happened during your shift."

"Okay, maybe I am a bit too connected to the victims. Who wouldn't be? I have to be to find their killers, give them justice, and allow them eternal peace. Yet, that doesn't mean that you can scare me. You can't."

"Oh, I can scare you, Mister, big, tough, He-Man of a police officer," said Anne smiling her confidence. "A soft touch, an easy mark, you'd be so easy to scare. When it comes to being scared, you're a pussy. You're my bitch."

"Bitch? I'm your bitch? I'm no one's bitch," said Roger with a laugh.

"Bitch," said Anne laughing, too.

"Well, if this is what it takes to have sex with you, if I must play this silly children's game first, before we fuck and before you suck, then give it your best shot. Go ahead and scare me, baby. Scare me," said Roger sitting down on the couch, folding his arms across his chest, and acting as if he was about to listen to another perpetrator's claim of innocence. "Go ahead. C'mon, I dare you. Scare me."

"Okay. So, Mister tough guy, you don't think that I can scare you. I'll scare you, alright," said Anne leaving the room and returning with a Ouija board. "Oh, yeah, big guy, get ready to be scared."

She put a fat, white candle down, set the game on the coffee table and opened the box, before sitting on the floor Indian style with her legs crossed.

"Oh, no. No Ouija boards. I hate those things," said Roger leaning back in his seat and waving his hands, as if trying to stop traffic.

"Look at you, Mister you can't scare me. You're already frightened over a silly child's game," said Anne with a laugh. "It's just a Ouija board, Roger."

"Kid's game my ass. That thing is evil. That thing is nothing but a porthole to the Devil," said Roger. "You never know what wicked creature you'll unleash with that thing by teasing the occult. I'll have no part of something that I can't shoot and kill. I'll have no part of something that I don't even know exists, when it's in the room and standing right behind me."

"Okay, then, let's forget about the Ouija game," said Anne reluctantly closing the box and moving the game to the side with a look of obvious misgivings. "I can scare you with just words," she said with less confidence, while sitting on the floor again, crossing her legs, and exposing her pink, bikini panties, when she pulled her long skirt up past her knees to sit, before fluffing it down.

"You're wearing your pink panties?"

"Yeah. So?" Perhaps because of the sexual high heat of Roger's stare, she smoothed her dress down against her thighs.

"I love your pink panties. They're my favorite panties. They make your ass look so perfect and your mound irresistible that I want to spank your ass and bite your pussy."

"Focus Roger, focus. Get your mind off my pink panties, off my perfect ass, and off my irresistible mound, so that I can scare you with my words."

"Words? Fat chance. You'd have to hold a gun to my head to scare me with just words. Unless your words include terrorist attack, or that my favorite bar is closed, or that my beloved Mustang was stolen, or that you'll no longer have sex with me, you can't scare me with mere words," said Roger with a laugh.

"I know just what to say to you that will scare you senseless," said Anne, now with confident assuredness.

"You do, huh? Go for it, then. I'm ready to be frightened," said Roger waving his hands over his head. "Woo! Spooky! It's Halloween. I'm so afraid of the dark. Trick or treat, go ahead and scare me silly. Make my day. Scare me, baby, scare me."

Anne stood to light the candle and to turn off the overhead living room light, before sitting down again, this time more lady like, so as not to flash her panties and distract Roger's attention. With the candle flame casting big, scary shadows against the darkened living room walls, the room immediate took on the ambience of a fortune teller's reading room. Especially with it being Halloween, anyone else but these two would have already been a little scared. Anyone else but these two would never agree to play such a game to be scared on Halloween night.

"Okay, this is your last chance to say no to being scared," said Anne with a laugh.

"Bring it," said Roger. "You can't scare me."

"Are you ready?"

"I'm ready. Go ahead and scare me," said Roger with seriousness and now looking, as if for the first time that he wanted to be scared, "I can't wait to be scared."

"Oh, I'll scare you alright, crybaby."

"Crybaby? That's it. Go ahead and scare me. I dare you to scare me. I double dare you. I can't wait to be scared. Only, I can't be scared. You can't scare me. I was, still am, and always will be a Marine and Marines don't scare," he said with a laugh, while pointing a finger at her, as if he was Jack Nicholson playing Colonel Nathan R. Jessep in the movie, A Few Good Men. "Nothing scares me. I don't scare."

"Okay, here we go," said Anne looking at her boyfriend sitting there so self-assured and smugly superior in his inability to be scared. "Here we go," she said rubbing her hands together, as if she already had goose bumps and was trying to keep warm. "You're a cop. You have instincts based on experience but have you ever had a hunch something was true and it was?"

"A hunch? Sure, lots of times. I have hunches every day, multiple times a day, just like the hunch that I'm having now that this Halloween fright night is not going to be scary but boring," he said with a laugh.

"Boring, huh? Close your eyes and think about those times you had hunches, while trying to solve a crime. Now, pick one, the best one, and hold that thought while you remember it and ponder it. Think back to that time and to those circumstances that gave you that hunch."

"Okay, I have a specific hunch in mind."

"Isn't it a weirdly unsettling feeling, from seemingly out of nowhere, to have had that hunch and for that hunch to be right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Now, go ahead and answer the question."

"What question?"

"Shh! The question that I haven't asked you yet because you interrupted me."

"Sorry."

"Have you ever had a feeling that something was about to happen and it did?"

"Yeah, of course. All the time. So?"

"Weird, huh? Instead of just unconsciously going with your intuition, think about it. What happened just before to make you feel that something was about to happen then? Why do you think you felt that whatever it was that happened would happen? Think back to the circumstances, before you felt that feeling that something was about to happen. What happened then that made you feel that something was going to happen later?"

"I dunno, much like a hunch, it was just a feeling, a sense of things to come and to happen, no doubt, from experience being on the job for so long."

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"Reincarnation? What the Hell does reincarnation have to do with hunches and/or with you trying to scare me?"

"Just answer the question, Roger. Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"Life after death? No, of course not."

"Then, you don't think you lived before in a past life?"

"Me living a past life? No, of course not. This, right here, right now, is my only life and I plan to grab it with all the gusto I have."

"Take a moment to think about it, ponder it, and consider it. Maybe you were reincarnated and don't even know. Maybe you lived before and that's why you have hunches and feelings of things that happen, before they happen, because you've already experienced them."

"That's all bullshit. It's just a hunch and a feeling," said Roger with a self satisfied smile, before giving his girlfriend a look, as if she was just another suspect lying to him. "So, is this your idea of scaring me? Newsflash, I'm not scared."

"If only for just a moment, Roger, imagine that you were reincarnated and lived before."

"Okay. Why?"

"Don't question it, Roger, just consider it. Compared to infinite space and eons of time, we are only here but for a mere second. As I truly believe that everyone has been reincarnated, in living through our life's journey, what you can sort out now about what happened to you in your past will help you with what will happen later in your future. Only you know the answers, Roger. Only you can solve your life's mystery."

"Yeah, well, maybe your scare tactic would work on someone who wanted to solve their life's mystery and on someone who believed they were reincarnated but I don't," said Roger. "You're still not scaring me, Anne."

"Have you ever had a nightmare so real you thought it was?"

"Nightmare? Yeah, sure, lots of times. I have lots of nightmares. This, right now, with your trying to scare me and us not in bed humping and sweating, is my worst nightmare."

"Other than the nightmare you seem to be having now, can you describe one of your nightmares to me one?"

"Okay but, to be honest, my nightmares are more sexual fantasies than nightmares. They all involve you dancing around a stripper's pole and stripping naked in front of me and my friends, before we gangbang you."

"C'mon, Roger, be serious."

"Okay, sorry, but I was being serious," said Roger with a dirty laugh.

"Let me tell you something, Buster, I'm not that kind of girl," said Anne getting up on her high horse. "I'm no one's whore, you dig? The only time I'll be stripping naked and pulling a train is in your perverted dreams," said Anne pointing a stiff index finger and rolling her eyes. "I'm from Detroit. I'm no one's fool and no one's sucker."

"Gees, Anne. Calm down. I was only making a joke."

"Now, I'll ask you again. Have you ever had a nightmare so real you thought it was?"

"Yes. Now that you mention it, I had a nightmare that I was shot and died."

"Really? Wow. No kidding."

Anne looked at her boyfriend with shocked horror.

"Yeah, I did."

"Did you awaken in cold sweats?"

"Yes. Glad to be alive. Happy that it was just a nightmare, I got up and peed, grabbed a beer and stayed up to zone out in front of the TV to watch sports, before watching the sex channel. I watched this beautiful, tall, busty blonde, who looked a lot like you, now that I remember her. She danced around a pole, stripped naked and then--"

"Roger!"

"What?"

"Getting back to your nightmare, were you able to go back to sleep?"

"Sleep? No, I told you already. I got up and peed, grabbed a beer and watched sports and then porn. I finally fell asleep on the couch."

"Don't you think it weirdly coincidental that you awakened at the exact moment to stay up to watch TV?"

"Coincidence? What's coincidental about that? I just had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep, is all."

"Tell me this, then. Were you afraid that there was someone or something there in the room with you?"

"Afraid? I always have my gun within reach," he said with a laugh. "Now that you mention it, not so much afraid, but I sensed there was someone or something there. Yeah, it was a little eerie and that unsettling feeling put me on edge enough to get up and look out the window."

"Sensing that there was someone there, you sensed it correct and your senses, much like animal instincts, were right."

"Okay, but you haven't told me something I don't already know and you're still not scaring me," said Roger with a big cheesy grin.

"Have you ever considered that what you experienced wasn't a nightmare, but something real that happened to you long ago and in another life?"

"You mean I died from a gunshot wound in another life?" Roger looked at his longtime girlfriend, as if seeing her in a different light and seeing her for the first time. "I never considered that, but now you have me wondering. Yeah, maybe, sure, that could have been. We don't know about stuff like that and may never know about stuff like that."

"What if you did die from a gunshot wound in a prior life? Doomed to relive the horror through your nightmares, consider that thought. Maybe, your brain saved some clues for you to identify who you were before, to allow you to make the connection to who you are now. Maybe being the detective that you are, your brain saved clues to who murdered you. Maybe you were born again to avenge yourself by finding your killer."

"Maybe you were my murderer," said Roger with a cheesy smile.

"The only way I'd kill you is with sex, Roger," said Anne.

"I'd died a happy man," said Roger with a wide smile. "Let's go to bed now with you trying to kill me with sex."

"Roger, c'mon. I'm trying to scare you."

"Okay. Go ahead and scare me."

"Maybe you were a woman in a past life."

"Definitely," said Roger with a laugh. "I think I was a woman in a past life. I've always had a thing for women. Now that I think about it, I've always been lesbian."

"That's funny, Roger, only if you were lesbian, I'd think you'd eat my pussy more often."

"Yeah, well, if I was a woman in another life, I hope I was a woman with big tits. I like big tits."

"Anyone's big tits?" Anne shot him a hard look.

"Correction, I love your big tits, Anne. You have a great set of knockers."

"So, you're only with me because I have big breasts?"

"No, of course not. Don't be silly. You give great blowjobs, too."

"Asshole," said Anne throwing a pillow and hitting him in the head.

"By the way, I'm still not scared."

"Don't worry. You will be," she said.

"I need for you to take this seriously to work, Roger. I need for you to relax, take a breath, and replay everything that happened to you in your nightmare. If you can recreate what happened in your conscious mind, your hidden memories of a past life may take you on a journey you never imagined possible. It may reveal a past life to you that you never knew you lived. Scary, huh?"

"Scary? No. Disconcerting a little, I admit. Yes."

"Then, let's continue. Have you ever had a weird dream you didn't understand?"

"Sure, lots of them."

"Was it a reoccurring dream?"

"Yes, I've had this reoccurring dream that I'm sitting in the living room with you on Halloween night and instead of us having sex, we're wasting our precious time together with you trying to fruitlessly scare me."

"Roger!"

"Okay, sorry. Please continue frightening me," said Roger with a laugh. "I'm starting to be so afraid."

"Have you ever had a nightmare you didn't understand?"