"Seven children, Batgirl," Gordon said. "All from Gotham's wealthiest families, all out trick-or-treating and all have failed to appear at their scheduled rendezvous points within the last two hours."
"Usually a child has to be missing for 24 hours before anything can be done, Commissioner." replied Batgirl.
"I know, Batgirl. It's just that... well, it's Halloween and since the recent
mass escape of arch-criminals, this city is filled with deranged and twisted
megalomaniacs. With several children, all from wealthy families, all
disappearing within the same time-frame, I can't help but suspect
something.
"I realize it seems pointless, but I still can't shake this uneasy
feeling. I'm sorry I called you in on this, Batgirl, seeing as how it may be a
waste of your time, but when I called Batman and Robin, I was told they were
partaking in some Halloween festivities."
(In actuality, Batman and Robin were at that moment tied by the wrists and ankles, strapped around the waists to a rotating spit under a giant taffy apple machine nozzle spewing rich caramel and nuts all over them. This was the devious work of their old foe, Madame DeBase. Recently, DeBase's only criminal objective seemed to be the humiliation of the Dynamic Duo. For the holiday, she featured her shapely legs with a high-cut skirt. Wearing a low-cut dress and a bee-hive hairdo, the Mad Madame giggled fiendishly as she turned the crank that spun the spit, anticipating the chance to lick off all that sweet topping. )
"The simple fact is, Batgirl, the police can't do anything yet, and without Batman . . ."
"It's not a problem, Commissioner. I'll be glad to help. Where were the children seen last?"
"Thank you so much, Batgirl. The children were last seen in the Crowsmurder Park district."
Crowsmurder Park: a dark and almost deserted side of town. Once the most illustrious of Gotham's upper-class neighborhoods, now a row of decaying mansions as silent as tombs. The once statuesque houses now house only shadows. It is in the second of these houses - Wescraven Manor - that the firmly fit form of Batgirl enters, playing on the hunch that the children decided it would be fun to "haunt" a house.
"Love what they've done to the place," she thought. With her natural kitten-like grace, she skipped through the dark hallways of the first floor. On each side of her were the dust- and cobweb-laden reminders of luxury: Old furniture and paintings that could've still been worth money, if not for being worn by age.
The crime-fighting cutie walked into the first room on her left. It was a study, furnished with a wine cabinet and a bookcase with a scant few old books on its shelves. In the right-hand corner was an old gramophone with a record on it. Side-by-side in the middle of the room were two moth-eaten love seats. Batgirl briefly looked around and turned to walk out.
As she left, behind her back she heard a scratching sound. She turned around and saw nothing. She turned again and the scratching started once again. Then suddenly - music! It was warped and garbled, but it was music! It sounded like old-time swing style from the 1920's. Batgirl looked all around, then she turned a third time and looked at the old record player. She noticed that the needle arm was resting on the record.
"It must've come from there," Batgirl thought to herself - nervously.
Batgirl moved on to the next room, the library. She looked around the rows of bookshelves, peering down each aisle. Nothing. She walked out of the room.
WHAP-BUBADUBBUBADUBBUBBADUBBUBADUBBUBADUB!!!
The huge crash turned Batgirl around in a flash. Behind her lay dozens of books, scattered all over the floor. The bookshelves had collapsed.
"Now that's heavy reading," she thought to herself. She then grimaced at her own pun.
"Why are you here?"
A voice.
"Why are you here?"
"A child's voice," Batgirl thought. It sounded like a soft echo from far away. She ran into the hallway and looked around. Then she saw the girl.
She stood atop the stairs. A little girl, maybe eight years old. She had long flowing hair and was dressed in white. In fact, she was all in white. Glowing white. From her hair to her toes she was completely white! Even her face! Her eyes! All glowing white!
"Who are you?" Batgirl asked, hiding the nervousness in her voice.
"You should not have come here."
The little girl's voice sounded so faint, as if it were a hundred miles away. She turned and walked into a room at the top of the stairs.
Thinking this might be one of the missing kids in trouble, Batgirl raced up the stairs and into the room. It was a bedroom, dimly lit by candle-light, with a queen-sized bed in the middle.
On the bed lay a figure, entirely covered with a sheet.
Batgirl shuddered. Yet she mustered up enough courage to reach out, wanting to investigate the macabre scene.
Suddenly a moaning filled the room.
"Uhhhhhh."
The moaning slowly grew louder, and longer.
"Uhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhh! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The screaming drove Batgirl back out of the room. She grasped her ears and backed herself against the railing at the top of the stairs.
It gave way.
Batgirl fell through space. She flipped in mid-air and tried to land feet first. To her shock, the floor disappeared under her feet.
She landed in something soft and bouncy. After collecting her bearings, she tried to stand, but her foot fell through something, up to her knee. She tried to stand up again. Then she lost her footing a second time. Something was tangled around her legs. She tried pulling them free and, with some trouble, managed to find solid floor underfoot. She stepped down and backed up a little to look at what she fell in.
It was a giant spider web.
"What the hell is going on here?" Batgirl asked out loud.
"You should not have come here."
The white girl.
Batgirl spun around to see her going up stairs. She raced after her, into the hallway. She looked left, she looked right. She looked into the kitchen.
The girl in white was hung by her neck from the fan, by a noose . . . her eyes staring out into space.
Batgirl fainted . . . whether from the shock or from something else, she never knew.
When Batgirl awoke, she was lying on her side. With a moan she tried to get up, but she realized she couldn't move her arms or legs. She struggled to a sitting position and noticed she had been hog-tied with chains. She was bound wrists to knees and at the ankles. As her eyes cleared, she made out several dark shapes around her. All under five feet tall.
"I warned you - now you're it!"
The girl's voice! It had turned normal in mid-sentence! It had become the regular gigglish voice of a healthy little girl.
Batgirl turned her head to see the ghost-girl wiping off her make-up and holding a little box in her hand. It was an electronic voice distorter! As Batgirl looked around the room, she could make out much clearer the figures around her. They were the missing children, all decked out in their Halloween outfits. There was a vampire. A pirate. Two Batmen. A Power Ranger. The Joker (!) And the little ghost girl. Now looking very much alive in bright pink flesh and flowing blond hair, no longer covered by the white wig.
Through embarrassed giggles, they collectively shouted, "Happy Halloween, Batgirl!!"
"You little...!" Batgirl bit her tongue, more embarrassed than angry. "How did you do this? Why? Do you realize how scared your parents are?"
The ghost girl answered. "We wanted to have a haunted house party. We wanted to scare everybody."
"How did you set this all up?"
The vampire answered. "My daddy makes scary movies. He used this house for a ghost movie and he showed me how to use the things to control the things with."
"So this was all just an elaborate Halloween prank!" She was mad, but she couldn't keep from smirking. There was a definite humor to this.
"Okay," she sighed. "You've had your fun. Now untie me and let's get you all home. You each have a spanking coming," she said half-kidding.
The children looked at each other. Then they looked at Batgirl. They each grinned fiendishly and circled Batgirl.
They began chanting.
"Tickle torture."
"Tickle Torture."
"TICKLE TORTURE!"
Batgirl realized what they had in mind. "Hey! wait. Don't. No, don't. No. No! NO!"
The pranksters rushed our hapless heroine and began tickling her without mercy. They poked and prodded every nook and cranny of her curvaceous costumed body with their stubby little fingers. Batgirl could only squirm and squiggle helplessly with laughter.
"Hahaha! No! Stop! Hahahahahaha!"
How long the children worked Batgirl over, our shero would have been hard
pressed to say. One by one, however, they stopped tickling her . . . as each
youngster in turn heard a new laugh . . .
Not a child's high-pitched giggles . . . nor Batgirl's anguished forced laughter . . . but . . .
"OOOOOOOOOOOH HA HA HA HA!"
A tall figure became visible through the darkness, with several other adult-sized figures behind it.
"Trick or treat, kiddies!! The party will really begin . . .
"now that Uncle Joker's here!!!!!"
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