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"thumb_large_noncustom_y": "200", "thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "300", "thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "300" } ], "pools": [], "description": "HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!\nThese animations are commissions from the awesome Strelkov on FA.\nlink to his FA profile here: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/strelkov/\n\nhe also did a story for this! so thank you and enjoy!\n\n__________________________________\n\n|Prologue: The Carnival Diabolique\n\n1/3\n
The equine stood at the edge of the light, arms akimbo, blonde mane curling slowly in the night air as he surveyed the scene. He was tall, but not gangly. His body, firm from a life of constant exercise never seemed to entirely rest. The picture of wariness - ears erect, flicked from side to side, his tail swished and his nose twitched nervously as it pulled in a deep waft of the night air. He snorted with derision.\n\n“What am I even doing here?” He said to nobody.\n\nThe carnival was kitschy. Exactly what you would expect from a cheap fair in some backwater - a place you took the kids an autumn night to get them out of the house before the long darkness of winter set in and everyone was stuck in the house. Halloween was in the air and thick it was with the smell of carny corn, candy and stale beer. The night echoed with screams that turned into laughter.\n\nA ferris wheel, decked with orange and white lights, a bit larger than you would expect, careened through the night air as children screamed shrilly at the latest monster, a ferret clown - a demonic clown, of course - jumped at them out of the darkness, stopping just short to send them running behind the legs of nearby adults. The parents laughed at the display, no doubt eased along by the plastic cups they carried. The ferret, face painted bright red framed with yellow, bowed mockingly, seeming to give them all a wink and a nod, before retreating back into the darkness to await his next “victim”.\n\nThe horse just shrugged his shoulders. He’d received a tip that this place had “suddenly appeared” at the outskirts of the city - his district - and “strange things” were happening there. So he had to check it out. Well. not really. The city had been dead lately.\n\nAs far as heroes go, the Blonde Lantern wasn’t exactly the best known amongst his vigilante compatriots. He didn’t mind that, of course. Being a hero was about helping people, right? His hours at the gym and the scars he earned fighting the low level baddies around town for petty crimes would just have to stay hidden. It wasn’t about being recognized and admired and having movies made about you like that Captain Tusk or The Pack or even Super Squirrel. No. Not at all. Being famous wasn’t important to him. Besides, he was making his way up.\n\nBut he had a small following.\n\nSo it was important to stay incognito. Pulling the gray hoodie down, he made his way into the carnival proper. But, a dark presence took notice.\n\n***********************\nThe place was a maze of circus tents, pop-up stands for various attractions and bordered on the sides with the “big attractions”. He wandered from place to place trying to spot something suspicious.\n\nHe really didn’t know what to look for. A drug gang? Some kidnapping ring? Smugglers?\n\nThe Blonde Lantern snorted. A pair of teenagers were necking nearby, one wearing a skeleton outfit the other a vampire. Maybe ghouls?\n\nA wooden sign was posted with directions to such attractions as “Maniac’s Mansion”, “Roller Coaster of Doom” and he rolled his eyes “The House of Wax”.\n\nHe’d been wandering around for almost an hour and found absolutely nothing. The night was getting far along. He was ready to give up. The employees were an odd lot, it was true. A shifty looking bunch that seemed to be nearly all men. Either burly and intimidating, with tattoo’d fur and weird piercings or skinny, oily little mustelids with beady eyes always darting about and fingers curling as if looking for something to steal. He’d even followed some around. They didn’t seem to be up to much of anything though. Moving around equipment. Tightening up ropes supporting tents. Standing around. Waiting.\n\nThe performers seemed to push the envelope from kitsch to actually creepy. The clown outfits were all slightly disturbing, the paint coming to points and making dark holes of the eyes, clothing all bloody reds or burnt orange or a ghastly pale white. But you expected to find weirdos at carnivals. That’s pretty much what carnies were all about. And it was Halloween, sooo….\n\nThe horse’s thought was interrupted by the sight of the young couple he’d seen before. They were clearly drunk and stumbling through the night, barely avoiding the ropes and the various junk behind the tents. They talked too loudly, giggling and laughing as they “sneaked” behind the tents. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were thinking as they stopped to kiss and fondle each other before looking coyly around and continuing their quest.\n\nBut that wasn’t what had caught his eye.\n\nIt was what was following them. It was like trying to follow a shadow within a shadow. The figure darted between shadows of tents. He couldn’t make out more than a man-like shape. And it was huge. And definitely following them.\n\nSilently, the Lantern came to life. Finally. He slid out of the too large sweatshirt and stuffed it into an athletic bag, revealing his green jumpsuit. He tugged down a matching mask and checked his kit. Then slipped into the darkness.\n\nThe couple had stumbled their way up to what appeared to be an actual structure. A multistory house that had pressed into the attraction. Fake cobwebs draped in the windows, while plastic tombstones sprouted from the front yard. Scary music piped steadily out of the windows as lights flashed intermittently inside. But instead of going up the front door, they made their way to a pair of doors at the base. A storm cellar. With a final giggle and kiss, the vampire dragged his (prospective?) mate inside, the skeleton wiggling her rear as she slid inside.\n\nThe dark figure didn’t follow them immediately. But, as he expected, instead moved up to one of the basement level windows, which lacked glass. He was puzzled as to how it moved so soundlessly. It just slipped inside without a sound. He considered waiting and calling for backup. A sense of dread was filling him. He had the sense that he couldn’t afford to wait that long. Something terrible was about to happen.\n\nHe had to keep those two in sight! The equine was at the cellar in a moment. Easing the door open, it moved surprisingly smoothly as if recently oiled. The darkness was inky down there. But he could hear shuffling and panting. It was risky, but he decided to turn on his belt light.\n\nStorage. All storage. Boxes piled up on boxes. Wooden boxes, cardboard boxes. Some filled with pamphlets to the carnivals, others with lights, cleaning supplies, fake blood, cobwebs. But.. where were the…\n\nHe heard another giggle. From an adjoining room. Suddenly he noticed there was no music. It had been constantly piping in from above. Everything was still and silent. Why had they come in here? He edged forward to the door leading into the anteroom. It was cracked open. There was a sliver of light coming through.\n\nThis was no store room. It was some sort of… he didn’t know what to call it. There were bookcases, stacked with tomes that just seemed to radiate age. Thick, lined with leather. And the smell. Was just old and musty. Even the boards in here seemed different. There was stone work here. Heavy stonework like what you would see in a castle. Sconces in the wall captured thinly flickering candles. But that wasn’t what held the attention. A stainless steel cart was in the middle of the room. And a table next to it. On which were wicked looking knives. A saw. Something that looked like an ice cream scoop? He shivered to look at it. All very clean. And there was a desk on which a much newer book sat, open to a bookmark. There was an inkwell and quill nearby with a dial of sand. He squinted at the page, noticing a drop of ink, still round and fresh on the page and looked down to read the text.\n\nHe took in a deep breath, a sudden chill of fear washing through him. The flowing text easily read, despite the old fashioned cursive, echoed in his mind.\n\n“Despite the struggle the foolish hero gave, his life he could not save.”\n\nWords of warning flashed in his mind. His eyes shot towards the door.\n\nThats when he saw it. Hanging by the door. A vampire’s cloak. And a black jumpsuit - with a white skeleton imprint.\n\n“Head empty in fact as it had been in mind, the horsey hero in quite a bind.”\n\nAnd then it happened. The dark figure streaked inside.\n\nThe Blonde Lantern punched and clawed at his attacker, his every blow hard enough to crack ribs and rupture blood vessels. The chestnut horses swinging his weight wildly at the dark figure, who parried each of his blows with ease, the riposte, a straight legged kick in the stomach so hard that the heroic equine pitched forward. Blood spattered the ground as he wheezed for air.\n\nHe felt skeleton thin fingers rip him off the ground and throw him into the wall, the unyielding stone smashing him. Again. And again.\n\nThe lantern crawled to his hooves on shaky legs. His uniform ripped and torn from their struggle. The room was empty. His attacker was gone.\n\nHe wiped the blood from his chin, heart pounding in his ears. He reached down to the radio at his belt, only to find it smashed to pieces. Dammit. Well. That was fine. He could deal with this. Glancing back at the book, he pushed his way back out through the door, ready to give battle.\n\nBut what waited for him was worse than a punch to the chin.\n\nThe basement store room filled with trinkets was gone.\n\nThis was a place of heavy masonry. Ancient stone work. His flashlight flickered dimly, barely illuminating the long hallway in front of him. Massive pillars stretched up into a ceiling he could barely make out.\n\n“No… way” he muttered. “Absolutely, no fucking way…”\nThe halls seemed to go on forever, sometimes going off to rooms locked behind heavy wooden doors. The area was lit with no electric lights, but only occasional sputtering torches. He went on and on and on, his hooves clattering on the cold stone. How long had he been down here? This wasn’t possible.\n
He spun around. Was that a sound? A rasping set of claws against stone? No. Just his imagination.\n\nHis light began to dim. To flicker. He saw… a dark… something? His mouth widened in terror.\n\nNo. It couldn’t.\n\nHE.\n\nThe light blinked out.\n\nHe ran.\n\nHard fingers grabbed him…pulled him easily to the ground. He screamed. It was more than one set of arms. They were pulling from all sides. Tearing at his uniform. Bony fingers. Clawed fingers. Monsterous fingers. NO!\n\nPLEASE NO.\n\n___________________________________\n\n{part 2}\n\nThe figure scribbled the last few lines into the page with a flowing hand, claw tips scratching lightly into the vellum, lit by candle-light.\n\n“His pride turned to terror\nToo late to fix his error\nThe brave equine shivered to see\n\nEyes awakened to his fear,\na bubbling vat before him, brought near.\nHard body, bonds harder still,\nmolten wax his throat did fill.\n\nThe villain rubbed his hands in glee,\nA handsome statue he would be!\nWith a vat of molten paraffin\nHe molded his grave.\n\nHard body, locked in wax,\nUniform gone, villain sealed his tracks\n\nThe hero is no more,\nBut a figure by the door.\nA most striking decor,\nHis pallid figure now gave\n\nOne last touch, but not too much\nThe sculptors knife around the top, then\nAn eternal candle he did drop,\nAs lit by the soul inside it would be.\n\nA sculpture made of wax,\nAn empty headed lamp for all to see,\nHorror captured on his face,\nLips molded in place,\nas if to say\n\n“If you enter to to this place, your figure too may grace,\na grinning tribute to our God”\n- HALLOWEEN”\n\n_______________________________________________________\n\n{Part 3}\n\nThe couple gasped in horror, clutching each other as the figure loomed in front of them, an eery glow seeming to pour forth from its eyes. Gradually, they realized what they were looking at as their eyes adjusted.\n\nThe figure had seemed all too real, but the teenagers smirked, then laughed in relief. It was just a wax figure, clutching a jack-o-lantern.\n\nNo wait! They smiled. An extra touch, the head was just as hollow as the pumpkin it held, eyes gleaming from the candle burning inside. There were even little wax blood lines carved around the scalp.\n\n\"Enter If You Dare\" read a sign nearby, painted in fake blood. The horse, an expression of dumb horror captured on its long face, gleamed pale in the light of the full moon, its figure motionless as the two walked by.\n\nThey giggled as they caught sight of its anatomically correct bulge, encased in a tacky pair of orange halloween themed briefs. You could see the line of the shaft and everything. A little edgy and lewd for this part of the country, but why not?\n\nHe grinned and gave the bulge a flick with one finger. It made a sound like wood or plastic.\n\n\"Whats the matter, Honey? Feeling jealous?\" Her date scoffed before dragging her on playfully, his smile broadening as he stepped past the dumb mannequin up to the threshold of the house.\n\nCreepy music played from a stereo somewhere inside and lights flickered among cobwebs and plastic spiders. He could handle whatever was inside. No problem. His eyes flicked uneasily back to the figure, so realistic he almost expected it to come to life and shout \"Boo!\".\n\nBut of course, it did no such thing. He shrugged and stepped inside, pushing aside his feeling of unease. He squeezed up against his girl a little more tightly. He was sure he could get lucky tonight. This could be the night. He just had to get her home.\n\nBut still…\nHe could have sworn he'd seen that face somewhere before.\n\n-End", "description_bbcode_parsed": "HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!
These animations are commissions from the awesome Strelkov on FA.
link to his FA profile here: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/strelkov/

he also did a story for this! so thank you and enjoy!

__________________________________

|Prologue: The Carnival Diabolique

1/3

The equine stood at the edge of the light, arms akimbo, blonde mane curling slowly in the night air as he surveyed the scene. He was tall, but not gangly. His body, firm from a life of constant exercise never seemed to entirely rest. The picture of wariness - ears erect, flicked from side to side, his tail swished and his nose twitched nervously as it pulled in a deep waft of the night air. He snorted with derision.

“What am I even doing here?” He said to nobody.

The carnival was kitschy. Exactly what you would expect from a cheap fair in some backwater - a place you took the kids an autumn night to get them out of the house before the long darkness of winter set in and everyone was stuck in the house. Halloween was in the air and thick it was with the smell of carny corn, candy and stale beer. The night echoed with screams that turned into laughter.

A ferris wheel, decked with orange and white lights, a bit larger than you would expect, careened through the night air as children screamed shrilly at the latest monster, a ferret clown - a demonic clown, of course - jumped at them out of the darkness, stopping just short to send them running behind the legs of nearby adults. The parents laughed at the display, no doubt eased along by the plastic cups they carried. The ferret, face painted bright red framed with yellow, bowed mockingly, seeming to give them all a wink and a nod, before retreating back into the darkness to await his next “victim”.

The horse just shrugged his shoulders. He’d received a tip that this place had “suddenly appeared” at the outskirts of the city - his district - and “strange things” were happening there. So he had to check it out. Well. not really. The city had been dead lately.

As far as heroes go, the Blonde Lantern wasn’t exactly the best known amongst his vigilante compatriots. He didn’t mind that, of course. Being a hero was about helping people, right? His hours at the gym and the scars he earned fighting the low level baddies around town for petty crimes would just have to stay hidden. It wasn’t about being recognized and admired and having movies made about you like that Captain Tusk or The Pack or even Super Squirrel. No. Not at all. Being famous wasn’t important to him. Besides, he was making his way up.

But he had a small following.

So it was important to stay incognito. Pulling the gray hoodie down, he made his way into the carnival proper. But, a dark presence took notice.

***********************
The place was a maze of circus tents, pop-up stands for various attractions and bordered on the sides with the “big attractions”. He wandered from place to place trying to spot something suspicious.

He really didn’t know what to look for. A drug gang? Some kidnapping ring? Smugglers?

The Blonde Lantern snorted. A pair of teenagers were necking nearby, one wearing a skeleton outfit the other a vampire. Maybe ghouls?

A wooden sign was posted with directions to such attractions as “Maniac’s Mansion”, “Roller Coaster of Doom” and he rolled his eyes “The House of Wax”.

He’d been wandering around for almost an hour and found absolutely nothing. The night was getting far along. He was ready to give up. The employees were an odd lot, it was true. A shifty looking bunch that seemed to be nearly all men. Either burly and intimidating, with tattoo’d fur and weird piercings or skinny, oily little mustelids with beady eyes always darting about and fingers curling as if looking for something to steal. He’d even followed some around. They didn’t seem to be up to much of anything though. Moving around equipment. Tightening up ropes supporting tents. Standing around. Waiting.

The performers seemed to push the envelope from kitsch to actually creepy. The clown outfits were all slightly disturbing, the paint coming to points and making dark holes of the eyes, clothing all bloody reds or burnt orange or a ghastly pale white. But you expected to find weirdos at carnivals. That’s pretty much what carnies were all about. And it was Halloween, sooo….

The horse’s thought was interrupted by the sight of the young couple he’d seen before. They were clearly drunk and stumbling through the night, barely avoiding the ropes and the various junk behind the tents. They talked too loudly, giggling and laughing as they “sneaked” behind the tents. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were thinking as they stopped to kiss and fondle each other before looking coyly around and continuing their quest.

But that wasn’t what had caught his eye.

It was what was following them. It was like trying to follow a shadow within a shadow. The figure darted between shadows of tents. He couldn’t make out more than a man-like shape. And it was huge. And definitely following them.

Silently, the Lantern came to life. Finally. He slid out of the too large sweatshirt and stuffed it into an athletic bag, revealing his green jumpsuit. He tugged down a matching mask and checked his kit. Then slipped into the darkness.

The couple had stumbled their way up to what appeared to be an actual structure. A multistory house that had pressed into the attraction. Fake cobwebs draped in the windows, while plastic tombstones sprouted from the front yard. Scary music piped steadily out of the windows as lights flashed intermittently inside. But instead of going up the front door, they made their way to a pair of doors at the base. A storm cellar. With a final giggle and kiss, the vampire dragged his (prospective?) mate inside, the skeleton wiggling her rear as she slid inside.

The dark figure didn’t follow them immediately. But, as he expected, instead moved up to one of the basement level windows, which lacked glass. He was puzzled as to how it moved so soundlessly. It just slipped inside without a sound. He considered waiting and calling for backup. A sense of dread was filling him. He had the sense that he couldn’t afford to wait that long. Something terrible was about to happen.

He had to keep those two in sight! The equine was at the cellar in a moment. Easing the door open, it moved surprisingly smoothly as if recently oiled. The darkness was inky down there. But he could hear shuffling and panting. It was risky, but he decided to turn on his belt light.

Storage. All storage. Boxes piled up on boxes. Wooden boxes, cardboard boxes. Some filled with pamphlets to the carnivals, others with lights, cleaning supplies, fake blood, cobwebs. But.. where were the…

He heard another giggle. From an adjoining room. Suddenly he noticed there was no music. It had been constantly piping in from above. Everything was still and silent. Why had they come in here? He edged forward to the door leading into the anteroom. It was cracked open. There was a sliver of light coming through.

This was no store room. It was some sort of… he didn’t know what to call it. There were bookcases, stacked with tomes that just seemed to radiate age. Thick, lined with leather. And the smell. Was just old and musty. Even the boards in here seemed different. There was stone work here. Heavy stonework like what you would see in a castle. Sconces in the wall captured thinly flickering candles. But that wasn’t what held the attention. A stainless steel cart was in the middle of the room. And a table next to it. On which were wicked looking knives. A saw. Something that looked like an ice cream scoop? He shivered to look at it. All very clean. And there was a desk on which a much newer book sat, open to a bookmark. There was an inkwell and quill nearby with a dial of sand. He squinted at the page, noticing a drop of ink, still round and fresh on the page and looked down to read the text.

He took in a deep breath, a sudden chill of fear washing through him. The flowing text easily read, despite the old fashioned cursive, echoed in his mind.

“Despite the struggle the foolish hero gave, his life he could not save.”

Words of warning flashed in his mind. His eyes shot towards the door.

Thats when he saw it. Hanging by the door. A vampire’s cloak. And a black jumpsuit - with a white skeleton imprint.

“Head empty in fact as it had been in mind, the horsey hero in quite a bind.”

And then it happened. The dark figure streaked inside.

The Blonde Lantern punched and clawed at his attacker, his every blow hard enough to crack ribs and rupture blood vessels. The chestnut horses swinging his weight wildly at the dark figure, who parried each of his blows with ease, the riposte, a straight legged kick in the stomach so hard that the heroic equine pitched forward. Blood spattered the ground as he wheezed for air.

He felt skeleton thin fingers rip him off the ground and throw him into the wall, the unyielding stone smashing him. Again. And again.

The lantern crawled to his hooves on shaky legs. His uniform ripped and torn from their struggle. The room was empty. His attacker was gone.

He wiped the blood from his chin, heart pounding in his ears. He reached down to the radio at his belt, only to find it smashed to pieces. Dammit. Well. That was fine. He could deal with this. Glancing back at the book, he pushed his way back out through the door, ready to give battle.

But what waited for him was worse than a punch to the chin.

The basement store room filled with trinkets was gone.

This was a place of heavy masonry. Ancient stone work. His flashlight flickered dimly, barely illuminating the long hallway in front of him. Massive pillars stretched up into a ceiling he could barely make out.

“No… way” he muttered. “Absolutely, no fucking way…”
The halls seemed to go on forever, sometimes going off to rooms locked behind heavy wooden doors. The area was lit with no electric lights, but only occasional sputtering torches. He went on and on and on, his hooves clattering on the cold stone. How long had he been down here? This wasn’t possible.

He spun around. Was that a sound? A rasping set of claws against stone? No. Just his imagination.

His light began to dim. To flicker. He saw… a dark… something? His mouth widened in terror.

No. It couldn’t.

HE.

The light blinked out.

He ran.

Hard fingers grabbed him…pulled him easily to the ground. He screamed. It was more than one set of arms. They were pulling from all sides. Tearing at his uniform. Bony fingers. Clawed fingers. Monsterous fingers. NO!

PLEASE NO.

___________________________________

{part 2}

The figure scribbled the last few lines into the page with a flowing hand, claw tips scratching lightly into the vellum, lit by candle-light.

“His pride turned to terror
Too late to fix his error
The brave equine shivered to see

Eyes awakened to his fear,
a bubbling vat before him, brought near.
Hard body, bonds harder still,
molten wax his throat did fill.

The villain rubbed his hands in glee,
A handsome statue he would be!
With a vat of molten paraffin
He molded his grave.

Hard body, locked in wax,
Uniform gone, villain sealed his tracks

The hero is no more,
But a figure by the door.
A most striking decor,
His pallid figure now gave

One last touch, but not too much
The sculptors knife around the top, then
An eternal candle he did drop,
As lit by the soul inside it would be.

A sculpture made of wax,
An empty headed lamp for all to see,
Horror captured on his face,
Lips molded in place,
as if to say

“If you enter to to this place, your figure too may grace,
a grinning tribute to our God”
- HALLOWEEN”

_______________________________________________________

{Part 3}

The couple gasped in horror, clutching each other as the figure loomed in front of them, an eery glow seeming to pour forth from its eyes. Gradually, they realized what they were looking at as their eyes adjusted.

The figure had seemed all too real, but the teenagers smirked, then laughed in relief. It was just a wax figure, clutching a jack-o-lantern.

No wait! They smiled. An extra touch, the head was just as hollow as the pumpkin it held, eyes gleaming from the candle burning inside. There were even little wax blood lines carved around the scalp.

"Enter If You Dare" read a sign nearby, painted in fake blood. The horse, an expression of dumb horror captured on its long face, gleamed pale in the light of the full moon, its figure motionless as the two walked by.

They giggled as they caught sight of its anatomically correct bulge, encased in a tacky pair of orange halloween themed briefs. You could see the line of the shaft and everything. A little edgy and lewd for this part of the country, but why not?

He grinned and gave the bulge a flick with one finger. It made a sound like wood or plastic.

"Whats the matter, Honey? Feeling jealous?" Her date scoffed before dragging her on playfully, his smile broadening as he stepped past the dumb mannequin up to the threshold of the house.

Creepy music played from a stereo somewhere inside and lights flickered among cobwebs and plastic spiders. He could handle whatever was inside. No problem. His eyes flicked uneasily back to the figure, so realistic he almost expected it to come to life and shout "Boo!".

But of course, it did no such thing. He shrugged and stepped inside, pushing aside his feeling of unease. He squeezed up against his girl a little more tightly. He was sure he could get lucky tonight. This could be the night. He just had to get her home.

But still…
He could have sworn he'd seen that face somewhere before.

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