The rain pounded on my umbrella as I pulled the scarf up over my face, hiding myself from the startled eyes of everyone around me. You see, I’m not the kind of ‘individual’ most people expect to see walking across from them on their afternoon stroll. But I’m getting ahead of myself. It all started this morning.

“Blorgh, I’m sorry, but this just isn’t working.”

I stared back into Greugh’s empty, soulless eyes. If only I could have eyes like that.

“You’re just not Terror Town material.”

“But I can do better. I swear. My lurking is getting better all the time, and I’ve been really working on my scowl. See...”

Summoning all inner scariness I could, I furrowed my brows and contorted my face into what I hoped was an expression that would inspire terror in children. Greugh looked back at me blankly. Pity is not a strong suit of the demonic race, but by his look of apathy, I assumed I had not hit the mark.

“It’s not up for discussion. Get your things and go.”

Greugh swept out of the room, leaving the scent of decay behind him. What was I going to do now?

I’d never been normal; never like my brothers or sisters. When they were lurking in dingy corners and dark alleyways waiting for their unsuspecting victims, I had always felt rather at odds. Not for me, was the life of scaring, haunting, killing or terrorising. There was just no joy in it. Whilst they were out stalking their prey, I was peeking in living room windows lit with the warm lights of lamps, wide-eyed with envy at the cozy family settings and smiling faces. But when you’re a blank-eyed, leathery green skinned demon, humans tend not to be so forthcoming with the their affections.

Wandering down Scare Street, I had donned my longest trench coat and tucked my bald, wrinkled head beneath a wide sweeping umbrella, slipping through the swirling portal tucked between the demon and the human realm I headed for the only place that gave me any sense of hope when I was feeling like this.

What was I going to do? No-one wanted me. I was no good at being a demon, and there was no way that I could fit into the human world. Not like I was.

Heading towards my favourite bench, shoulders slumped in defeat, something flitted past me in a fluttering blur of blue, coming to settle on my hand. It was, I think, what the humans called a butterfly. It was the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Delicate turquoise wings gently fluttering beneath the shelter of my umbrella. It’s wings were fringed with blue, and speckled with black spots, each unique in shape. It’s legs tickled my hand gently. Incredible. How could something so beautiful choose me to land on?

As quickly as it had landed, the butterfly took to the air, sweeping off on those gentle wings through the rain but, before disappointment could completely fill me at the disappearance of my new-found friend, I saw it descend on a chalkboard sign in front of a dimly lit shop just outside of the park gates. As if drawn by a magnet, I followed quickly behind, reading the sign with wonder.

“Are you a friendly spookster looking for work? We’re looking for scary but loveable characters to take part in Halloween parties and shows this year. All applicants welcome. Please ask within! ”

Maybe things were looking up after all.