Super Trick or Treat System

…"What is my name: policeman or exorcist?"

"nothing."

"For God's sake-"

"It's okay, Gina. Really."

Father turned around from the window and looked at her. His eyes said what his mouth refused to say, it was war.

Jack was scared.

The house suddenly became a prison. The game was suddenly fatal. The enemy is not playing stupid games, but causing real harm to all of them.

In the kitchen, the turkey finally gave in. The carols on the radio have withered into sermons about God's blessings.

It turns out that sweet things are sour and dangerous. He looked at Amanda and Gina's room. Both are trembling for their own reasons. Polo wanted to tell them, wanted to explain what happened. But he knew that the thing must be there, which was unpleasant.

He was wrong. Nanta has retreated to the attic and is satisfied with his work. Feel that the bird is a genius. Now you can rest for a while: regain strength. Let the enemy's nerves break as expected. Then, at its own good time, it will bring about a coup.

Strangely, it wanted to know if any inspectors had seen his work on the turkey. The originality will impress them deeply to improve their job prospects. Of course, this did not go through all these years of training, just to chase a clever vile like Jack. There must be something more challenging than this. It feels triumphant in the invisible bones: it is a good feeling.

The pursuit of Jack will definitely gain momentum now. His daughter will persuade him (if he doesn't quite believe it now) that something terrible is happening. He will crack. He will collapse. Maybe he will go crazy: tear off his hair, tear off his clothes; smear his own feces.

Oh yes, victory is near. Wouldn't his master love it? Wouldn't it be praise and power?

What is needed is another form of expression. The last enlightening intervention, and Jack will enrich many bodies.

A tired but confident Jacob walked into the lounge.

Amanda was lying on the sofa and fell asleep. She was clearly dreaming of a turkey. Her eyes rolled under the silky eyelids and her lower lip trembled. Gina is sitting next to the radio, which is now muted. There was a book on her lap that was opening, but she did not read it.

The cucumber importer is not in the room. Isn't that his footsteps on the stairs? Yes, he is going upstairs to relieve brandy's full bladder.

Ideal timing.

Person Y crossed the room. While sleeping, Amanda dreamed that the night was flying around in her sight. Some were malignant, and some tasted bitter in her mouth.

Gina looked up from the book.

The silver ball on the tree swayed gently. Not just the ball. Metal wires and branches. It's actually a tree. The whole tree was shaking, as if someone had just grabbed it.

Gina felt very sad about this. She stood up. The book slid to the floor.

The tree began to rotate. "Christ," she said. "Jesus Christ."

Amanda is asleep.

The tree regained its momentum.

Gina walked to the sofa as smoothly as possible, trying to keep her sister awake. Amanda, who was dreaming of her, resisted for a moment.

"Father." Gina said. Her voice was very strong and went straight to the hall. It also awakened Amanda. Downstairs, Jack heard a sound like a dog. No, like two dogs. When he ran down the stairs, the duet became a trio. He suddenly rushed into the lounge, expecting all the masters of **** to stay there, dancing with beautiful women on his head.

but not. It's the Christmas tree spinning, complaining like a bunch of dogs while spinning. The lamp has long been pulled out of the socket. The air odor of single plastic and pine sap. The tree itself spins like a top, hanging ornaments, and with the generosity of the mad king sent out its tortured branches. Jack removed his eyes from the glasses on the tree and found Gina and Amanda squatting behind the sofa, squatting in horror. "Go away." he shouted.

Even when he was talking, the TV did not stand firmly on one leg, and began to spin like a tree, quickly gathering momentum. The clock on the mantelpiece echoes the surrounding landscape. Poker by the fire. cushion. Decorations. Each subject added his own strange note to the arrangement of grumble whining, the pitch was deafening. The air began to fill with the smell of burning wood, and the friction heated the spinning top to the flash point. Smoke hovered in the room.

Gina took Amanda by the arm and was dragging her to the door, covering her face to resist the hail of pine needles thrown by the accelerating tree.

Now, the light is spinning.

These books fell from the shelves and became tarantulas.

Jack can see enemies running between objects in his mind, like a magician playing on a stick, trying to make all objects move immediately. He thought, this must be exhausted. The demon may be about to collapse. It cannot be straightforward. Excessive excitement. impetuous. Fragile. If there is time, now must be the last time to join the battle. Face things, resist and trap it.

For its part, the demons are enjoying this spree of destruction. It threw all movable objects into the battle and made everything spin.

The daughters twitched, and it watched with satisfaction. Seeing the old man watching this absurd ballet, he smiled.

Of course, he is going crazy, isn't he?

The beauties have arrived, their hair and skin are full of needles. Polo did not see them leaving. He ran across the room, dodging a pile of decorations, and then picked up a brass spit that was ignored by the enemy. His head is full of air, dancing at a disgusting speed. His flesh was bruised. But the joy of participating in the battle made him surpass, and he set about defeating books, clocks and porcelain to the smithy. Like a locust-like person, he ran around the room, put his favorite book in the confusing pages, smashed the spinning Dresden, smashed the lamp. A mess of belongings flooded the floor, some of which were still convulsing as life broke. But for every lowered object, there are still twelve rotating,

He could hear Gina's yelling at the door, tell him to go out, ignore it.

But this is really interesting, fighting the enemy more directly than before. He didn't want to give up. He hopes that the devil will show his popularity and be recognized.

He hopes to confront the old man's messenger once and for all.

Without warning, the tree was dominated by centrifugal force and exploded. The noise is like the howl of death. Branches, twigs, needles, balls, lights, wires, ribbons fly across the room. Jack, who returned to the explosion, felt an aura hit him violently, and he was thrown to the ground. The back of the neck and the scalp are full of pine needles. A bare branch stretched over his head and pierced the sofa. Fragments of trees slapped on the carpet around him.

Now, other objects around the room have rotated beyond the capacity of the structure and exploded like a tree. The TV blew up, sending deadly glass waves in the room, most of which were buried on the opposite wall. The fragments inside the TV were so hot that they burned their skin and fell on Jack, who was bent violently towards the elbow of the door like a soldier.

The room was full of debris, as if foggy. Cushions borrowed them to the scene and snowed on the carpet. Porcelain: a glazed arm, a prostitute's head, bouncing on the floor in front of the nose.

Gina squatted at the door, urging him to hurry up, keeping his eyes close to the hail. When Jack reached the door and felt her arm by his side, he swore that he could hear the laughter in the lounge. Tangible, audible laughter, rich and satisfying.

Amanda stood in the hall, her hair full of pine needles, staring down at him. He pulled his legs across the door, and Gina closed the door as he removed it.

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