This is the conclusion to Selchor's Halloween tales and is my Friday Frights for this week. However, we will be seeing much more of him in the future. I hope you enjoy this story. Happy Friday Frights and Happy Halloween, Enforcer style.
This Halloween night has been a mixed bag. Some people have met a rather painful demise and have gone to a place not entirely of their liking. But all of them had a choice as to their destination. Yes, some would say they were tricked or coerced into their individual journey, but Selchor sees it as a self-reckoning.
The Enforcer does not care about those who are dead. His justice was swift, and the juries were those who broke the tenets of the laws of humanity.
But for those who are innocent of any guilt, the sweet children who suffered too long at the hands of poverty and parents who were users and abusers, this has been a good night.
They leave the apartment houses in the slums of the city, and Selchor leads them to areas they have never seen before. At first, they visit simple houses, pleasant, but not particularly lavish. And they do quite well in these areas, getting a lot of candy and oohs and ahs from people who don’t recognize them for being inhabitants of the inner city. Most of them would not care anyway. There is a common bond with these people. They might reside in these nice houses, but they are one step away from finding themselves without a place to dwell and money to provide for food and other essentials. The times are not pleasant. There are those who have much, and there are those who have nothing. In between are those who could be knocked down a few pegs in a matter of mere moments.
Yes, the slightest little tip in the economic situation, and many of these people could find themselves on the wrong side of the fence.
The night goes on and on, and the children are more than happy with the treats they have received. Selchor could not be any more ecstatic for the joys of the children, but there is a nibbling away at his thoughts that not all is right. They all rest on common ground at the moment, but something else awaits them ahead.
Big houses, fancy homes adorned with the extras that only the super rich can afford are the next areas on their list. These are the folks with the most to give away. They should be able to share with those less fortunate than them, but when Selchor and his entourage arrive, the doors are rudely slammed in their faces, and then the hospitable lights are turned off and the children are sent off on their way, stumbling around in the darkness, finding it difficult to get to the sidewalk to get to the next house.
After a few houses like this, Selchor reaches his limits of understanding and takes his entourage to the biggest mansion in the area. The lights are off, but he leads them towards the front door any way, and not only the lights to the front door area but lights along the entire perimeter of the house light up.
“Looks like we’re welcome here,” Selchor says, a decided sparkle in his eyes.
They walk up beautiful marble steps, past huge figures of mastiffs, and the doors open to their presence. “Welcome home, My Lord,” an impeccably dressed butler says.
“Thank you,” Selchor says. “As you can see. I have brought many guests this evening. Are we ready for the evening’s festivities?”
“We are indeed, sir.
“Children, please follow me inside, and we will all partake of games and much merriment.”
The looks on the faces of the children warm the soul of Selchor. Those who have nothing now will have much. They dive into the games present everywhere, and explode with laughter and delight when their parents come out from an adjoining room and enter in to the festivities.
But not all the parents are there. Like the Andersons, others have remaindered their souls to Hells of their own choosing. The Enforcer rounded them up, and the juries reached unanimous verdicts.
What now for the children?
“You look sad, Master Selchor,” his butler says.
“I am, George. Rooting out evil is never pleasant, and when children are concerned, it becomes even more difficult. But the children must be saved. I refuse to allow them to be hurt.”
“Ah, but that the rest of the Committee would feel the same way as you, sir.”
“That would be a good thing, but it will not happen for a while.”
“Come and join us, Mr. Selchor,” Tommy says. “The owner of this house has indeed been more than kind by allowing us here and providing everything we see before us.”
Selchor winks at George. “Yes, he has, Tommy. We’ll have to thank him later.”
Captain America is soon immersed in the merriment, and it becomes difficult to tell him from the children. But is that not what enlightenment should be all about? What is more human than a sweet child who is happy? Nothing.
Lightning flashes in the great room where everyone is assembled, extending from the top of the sixty foot high cathedral ceiling to the floor below, and from side to side in all directions. No one is injured and those assembled think it’s merely part of the festivities. A swirling black cloud appears in the very center of the room, and when it vanishes, a hooded man, dressed in a black robe with a hood so vast it covers his entire face and head, appears.
“Anarchy, I’m glad you were able to find time to visit our humble party. I was wondering when the Committee would come for a visit.”
“As leader of the Committee, I chose to come alone. I’m afraid you must leave and come with me.”
Tommy runs over to Selchor. “Don’t leave now, Mr. Selchor. Please.”
Selchor laughs. “See, Anarchy, Tommy says I must stay, so I guess it’s settled. You’re welcome to stay if you wish, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Angered, Anarchy says, “I didn’t ask you. I commanded you.”
“I answer to no man,” Selchor says. “I am no longer a member of the Committee.”
Fury engulfs Anarchy. “But you can’t just quit!”
“Sure I can. I made decisions all along the way to achieving ‘perfection,’ but when I reached it, I found out that I did not wish to be like you or your kind. My decision again.”
Anarchy starts to utter more words, but Selchor stops him dead in his tracks. “You will not upset the fun these children are having. You must leave now.”
A huge scythe appears in the hands of Anarchy, lending itself to the spirit of the evening, if not with what Selchor had in mind to play out at his mansion. “A nice touch to your Reaper costume, Anarchy,” he says, “but remember that you’re battling Captain America. Let’s get it on!”
The children watch the show in earnest, thrilled by the moves of both combatants, but astounded by the dexterity shown by their cane carrying friend who has left his walking implement on the floor. His shield repels every blow delivered by Anarchy, and they cheer their hero on.
Anarchy is worn down by the relentless offense shoved in his face and needs time to catch his breath, but Selchor affords him none.
“What’s the matter Mr. Chairman? Have you gotten soft? I haven’t, and I’m not finished yet.”
Flipping back to retrieve his cane, Selchor hits his button and the knife comes out. “Watch this magic trick,” he shouts to the children, as he deftly removes Anarchy’s heart. In all actuality, the heart of the Chairman has shriveled to the size of a grape and is barely recognizable for what it once was. His antagonist returns to the safety of a second vortex of thick, black smoke and he vanishes from the room. Selchor bends low in a bow, and all the children cheer.
“Thank you, children,” he says. “Back to the festivities. They won’t stop until morning comes and the sun rises.”
Mr. Smith walks to Selchor. “Please tell me what is going on here, sir. I can’t believe what just happened.”
“Very soon, you will, sir,” Selchor says. “You and your wife are one lifetime away from reaching ‘perfection.’ Remember what you have seen tonight. Retain your humanity. Don’t allow your heart to shrivel away to nothing like Anarchy and the others. Care for people. Never look the other way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. George will help you. He is like you. You will be Gods. Be good ones. Show mercy. When morning comes and the sun rises, the children will all be asleep. I will leave then. This house will then belong to you, your wife, and George. Take care of the children, yours as well as the others. Some will have no parents. They need a home. Be good parents to them.”
“I will return to the old apartment in the city. There is much work for me to do there. Besides, the ones like me with puny hearts will be coming after me. I want the children to be safe. I’m in for a long battle.”
Mr. Smith starts to talk, but Selchor says, “No need for any more words. We have a party to attend.”
None of the children last out the entire evening, but they are one happy bunch of children.
“Good bye, Master Selchor,” George says. “I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, George, but one day we will be fighting side by side. How are your with a cane?”
George laughs. “You’ll have to teach me the ropes, sir.”
Selchor winks. “My guess is you will be a quick learner.”
The Smiths are also asleep. “Teach our apprentices well, George. They are good people.”
George nods, and Selchor turns and leaves. He laughs as he sees the toilet paper adorned trees on the palatial estates in the neighborhood. Serves them right, he thinks. What he likes the most is when he stares at the Rolls Royce sitting in the middle of a huge fountain at the Yardleys’ house. How many people did it take to do that?
The apartment house is empty when Selchor arrives. Everyone is up at his old estate. Except for the Andersons and the others like them. The children will now be happy. Their parents’ absence will be easy to explain. They have real parents now. Parents who care for them and will shower love on them forever.
Selchor’s cleanup squad has removed the human trash from this apartment building. Yes, others will take their places soon enough, but until then The Enforcer will be alone. That’s not a bad thing. It brings time to think.
Captain America looks down on the city below from his lofty perch and removes his costume. What costume will he don next?
What evil needs to be reckoned with first?
The streets tell him all he needs to know . . .