Apologies for the delay. (Patreon)

Imagine, me having to apologize to a bunch of lowfolk, but there we are. My official chronicler didn't show up yesterday. He says he got busy working on something called "effin' eye yay" which must be some dumb lowfolk sport, and forgot it was Monday. Claims the "time change" threw him off. This sounded like utter balderdash until I looked it up. Apparently this civilization (and I'm being very generous calling it that) sets their clocks ahead an hour in the spring, and then back again in the fall. These lowfolk are insane! If all of them do this, then it's entirely possible that this buffoon really did forget what day it was. He said he "drew a doodle" yesterday as if that was something I should congratulate him for, despite Monday being the day to continue my Ballad! Lana Lynne was supposed to organize and streamline his business, but clearly this is beyond even her abilities. (Somebody remind me, I need to talk to her.) It pains me that my daughter still considers this clown to be worthy of her affection. At least I can take solace in knowing that she will outlive him. When the time com - oh, he's here. FINALLY! Let's continue the story! Everyone's waiting for the idiotic conclusion to the Dullahan Incident. They want to know whether I survived or not!

...

I closed my eyes and waited for oblivion. The dullahan would probably put my body on display and use my ghost as a horror attraction. This wasn’t the way I wanted to go, but somehow it wasn't a surprise.

The dullahan's shriek of triumph turned into a yelp of surprise when, with a loud scraping of stone on stone, the floor beneath it began shifting. With a mighty heave from below, the flagstone directly beneath the creature tilted upward, throwing the monster off balance. It stumbled backward and stepped on one of the small round stones that were scattered everywhere by Slovenly and Folly's high-speed entrance. The mace and severed head clattered across the floor as the dullahan's feet slipped out from under it. There was a strange bird-like sound as the dullahan stumbled backward and flipped over to land neck-stump first inside a rain barrel that was inexplicably behind it.

“Is somebody touchin ma rain barrel??" Burnside bellowed from the other room. "I need that for later!”

I blinked in surprise. So then, it looked like the dullahan was affected by the meddling youths’ idiocy after all!

“Oh, there you are," Meadow said as she poked her head out of the newly revealed secret entrance in the floor. "We’ve been looking for you for hours. Can you play that song again? Also, why are you tied up?”

Thomson clambered out of the floor entrance and rushed to my side. “My rescuing light of royalty!" she exclaimed while clutching me a bit harder than the situation called for. "Mr. Calaveras told me you were in great danger! I’ve come to rescue you and face my fears! I failed to save you last time, but I will rewrite the present’s history and save you in the past’s now! This vile necropolis holds no terror for me henceforth!”

“I gave her a pep-talk,” Meadow explained as she picked at the ropes entangling me. “What happened here?”

“Everything we’ve just endured is too stupid and annoying for me to explain," I sighed. "Stick around for the ‘unmasking’ and you’ll find out.” I turned and shouted to the room in general, “Is everyone still alive?”

“Like, I’m hungry, man,” Slovenly moaned from somewhere across the room.

“Merthy thaketh, Thlovenly,” Folly added, and all the youths laughed.

“I’m fine," Rebecca called, "but your statue is broken.”

“Can I keep its head and pelvis?” Burnside asked hopefully.

“No!!” I exclaimed, wriggling free of the last of my ropes. With Meadow's help I pulled Phoebe, Ralph, and Maeve out of the tangled rubber sheet, and in a matter of seconds everyone was gathered around the dullahan, watching as he helplessly kicked his feet in the air. We grabbed the dullahan’s ankles and flipped him over into an awkward sitting position with the barrel firmly lodged around his torso and shoulders, keeping his arms pinned to his sides.

“Our trap was a flawless success!” Ralph proclaimed triumphantly.

“No it wasn’t,” I countered.

“And now it’s time to see who this headless specter really is!” Ralph grabbed the tip of the dullahan’s billowing neck-flame and the illusion shimmered under his hand. He pulled, and a cloth mask enchanted with a glamer came away to reveal an elderly fox.

“Of course!" Maeve exclaimed. "It was- Who is this?”

“I am the semi-known and semi-renowned genius of horror, Eltsac Mailliw!" the fox declared, in a smooth Upper Vulpitanian accent. "And I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling-”

“Hold on, hold on!” I interrupted. “What was your endgame here?? Why did you try to tarnish my image and portray me as a despot if you were trying to keep people out of the city?? Propaganda is pointless if nobody sees it.”

“What?" Eltsac blurted in an offended tone. "Propaganda?? You mean my statue? No, that’s nothing so base as propaganda! I was simply honoring the founder of this feast of horror I’ve concocted. His actions are what inspired me, and he created this wondrous space for me to shape and mold with my grim artistry!”

“Feast of horror?" I repeated, confused. "Grim artistry? What are you talking about?? Why would you be making art if you’re trying to keep people out??”

“Keep people out?" Eltsac barked. "No-no! I want people to come here! I made this entire spectacle for people to see, to be awed by, and to soil their pantaloons in pure terror! I’ve spent years setting up every street and every block of this dead city to be the perfect atmospheric painting of dread and fear!”

“What in Fuma’s name are you blathering on about??" I snarled. "Are you a Vulpitanian agent or not?”

“Certainly not!" Eltsac sniffed with an air of wounded pride. "The Republic’s government could never hope to afford my services. Also, they never answered any of my grant requests. I am a free agent, a visionary, a genius unappreciated by my fellow countrytods. While they all waste their time playing juvenile pranks on each other, I answered a higher calling. Surely you've heard of my legendary drama 'The Horripilator' presented in patented Scare-O-Rama, which played to much acclaim for three whole days on the Boulevard in Persoc Tor! Instead of infantile squeals of of giddy, childish laughter I brought the world screams of terror! I have made many attractions in my day, and this city is my magnum opus! I spent more than a century secretly crafting this masterwork you see around you! No one knew what I was doing, nor were I was. This plan was too monumental, too vast in scope for uncultured minds to comprehend. Only a true connoisseur of horror could appreciate the breadth of my vision! Have you ever seen a haunted house attraction? Well, this haunted CITY puts them all to shame! You’ve seen what I have built; you've scurried in abject fear through these streets, so you can attest to my brilliance. My cursed city attraction will bring thousands- no, MILLIONS of elves from all around Faerie to experience this masterpiece of free-range horror! Think of it! An entire haunted city to explore! Every street a new shuddersome thrill! Every alley a new ghoulish sight to see and be chilled by! Ever since I found a back-way into this city while I was scouting for inspiration, I knew this was my next calling, my life’s work!”

“It was a brilliant plan," Ralph smirked, "but you didn’t count on us-”

“No it wasn’t a brilliant plan!!” I yelled. “Who’s going to visit your haunted city attraction?? You didn’t tell anyone about it!! Did you think people would just show up with no advertising?? Have you been wandering this empty city for over a century, just expecting tourists to drop in??”

“Word of mouth is the best advertising there is," Eltsac declared knowingly. "Once a few people show up, they’ll spread the word. It’s flawless advertising that costs nothing. You, for example. You’re here, and now you can tell all your friends what a delightfully terrifying time you had here.”

“Albric Tor is isolated!" I screeched, starting to hyperventilate. "It's inaccessible! Sealed off by the Queen's geas, and until recently, covered by a blanket of deadly fog! We’re the first people to visit in HUNDREDS of years! It’s amazing that you even managed to get here! Come to think of it, how DID you get in here?? Also, You don’t have any banners up! Anyone that does show up will think the city is genuinely haunted and run away! Ghosts are REAL in Faerie! You should know that! You live here! And, and .. if you thought we were customers, why did you chase us around with a mace??”

“You snuck in without paying,” Eltsac stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And regarding the back way I found- er, uh .. actually, it’s been so long that I forgot. But this place is the capitol of the empire! People are sure to show up once the empire reforms. I’ll be swimming in visitors then! My dullahan dolls and ghost pens will be flying off the shelves in the gift shop! You’ll see!”

“HOW IS THE EMPIRE GOING TO REFORM IF THE CAPITOL CITY IS A HORROR ATTRACTION??” I roared furiously.

“Oh,” Eltsac muttered as a glimmer of realization began to dawn on him.

“Oh? OH??" I mocked. "Is that all you can say? After all the time and resources you’ve thrown into it and all the trouble you caused us, that's it??”

“I’ll need to reassess my strategy," Eltsac stated with a resolute nod. "I’ll put it in my logbook, which contains every step of my master plan and strategy.”

"He's telling the truth," Thomson interjected. "And not just because he's an elf."

I looked over to see Thomson thumbing through a book with a prominent title clearly visible: My Master Plan by The Dullahan a.k.a. Eltsac Mailliw.

"Where did you get that," I asked quietly, my eye beginning to twitch.

"I spotted it underneath a pallet over there," Thomson gestured vaguely. "When you've been alone as long as I have, new reading material is more precious than gold - so I fished it out. The plot isn't very compelling but the worldbuilding is thorough, and it checks out with everything Mr. Mailliw said."

I remembered having said sometime earlier that I might have to punch someone. I turned to Eltsac and looked him right in the eye. “I’m going to punch you,” I informed him calmly.

“Wha-” Eltsac asked before I socked him in the eye, sending him backwards.

Thomson dropped the book, her hands shaking as she pointed at the Vulpitanian horror empresario on the floor. “Do you mean to tell me that all this time, all the horrors I’ve seen, all the screaming I’ve heard, all the times I’ve been stalked and chased in the dark, THAT WAS YOU?? I lost my mind over a THEME PARK??” She dove to the ground and began pummeling the fox.

“You drove Miss Thomson crazy and made her live in a hole for centuries!" Rebecca scolded. "You’re a bad tod!!” She delivered a righteous kick to Eltsac's ribs, breaking the rain barrel into splinters.

Burnside cackled joyously as she smashed a broken piece of wood from the trap over the fox’s head.

The Folly-La Gang began singing their theme song as they piled on, beating Eltsac Mailliw senseless.

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