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MD - Chapter 122: Mitchell's Revenge
🕑 Added 2025-05-19 18:45:57 +0000 UTC[Pritchett-Tucker House]
Tuesday, October 31 – 2009
Cameron woke up in the middle of the night. His eyes opened slowly and with difficulty, he shifted under the sheets, and when he saw the time on the digital clock on the nightstand, he paled.
“No, no… this isn’t good,” he whispered to himself in the darkness.
The clock read exactly 3:33 a.m. A cursed hour, especially since it was October 31st. Halloween night.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Cam murmured, though he remained under the covers with no intention of moving, as if the blanket could somehow protect him.
“I don’t need the bathroom, I don’t need the bathroom…” he repeated, as if that would convince his bladder to just wait until sunrise.
In the middle of his self-persuasion, Mitchell’s sleepy and clearly annoyed voice broke the silence, “What are you doing? It’s three-thirty, Cam.”
“My bladder wants to go to the bathroom, but I don’t… It’s Halloween, Mitchell. What if Andrew set something up?” Cam replied, glancing at Mitchell.
Mitchell sat up with resignation and turned on the nightstand lamp. The soft orange glow, courtesy of a mood bulb that Andrew claimed “creates cinematic tension,” bathed the room like they were about to shoot a scene from Paranormal Activity 8: Adoptive Dads Never Rest.
“Set something up where? In the toilet?” Mitchell asked, frowning, though deep down, he was already starting to consider it wasn’t such a far-fetched idea.
“Did you forget who raises him when we’re not around? Claire! Your sister is basically the Joker with a holiday agenda. Halloween is her Christmas,” Cameron said, indignant.
Mitchell sighed. He couldn’t argue with that. Claire didn’t just love Halloween… she worshipped it. She planned it with a passion that bordered on military precision. And ever since they adopted Andrew at age five, Claire had molded him into a young dark apprentice of strategic scares.
“It’s true… those two have some kind of prank cold war with a points system,” Mitchell muttered, resigned. “It’s not even a healthy competition. It’s like my sister raised her successor.”
“Exactly. I’m not exaggerating. Last year, I went to get a glass of water. It was around two in the morning. My throat was dry, I just wanted some cold water,” said Cam, pausing as if recounting a war story.
“I open the fridge, the little light turns on… and there it was. Andrew’s head. An almost perfect replica. But with blood, eyes wide open, lifeless. Wide open and lifeless, Mitchell! It was like it was staring at me from beyond the grave.”
Mitchell couldn’t help but smile, “I have to admit, he outdid himself with that prank… even Claire gave him the win that year.”
He stopped immediately when he saw Cameron’s expression, he was looking at him as if he’d just praised Hannibal Lecter.
“Why are we dragged into their Halloween psychological warfare?” Cam huffed, outraged. “Let them prank each other! Let them hide a rat in a shoe, electrocute themselves with the doorbell, scare each other to death, I don’t know! But leave us alone.”
Mitchell raised an eyebrow, “Cam… do you really think Claire limits herself to Andrew? She pranked Luke two years ago, when he was eight. Made him think she cut off her hand by accident, she bought fake blood and everything…”
Cam sank into the pillow with a theatrical groan, “They become sociopaths on Halloween.”
“Exactly. And it’s not just a war between the two of them. It’s like a big tournament, and we’re all collateral damage,” Mitchell said with resignation. “You’re collateral damage, Cam.”
At that moment, both jumped at a dull thump on the roof. Nothing else. Just a single sound, or maybe their imaginations playing tricks on them. But it was enough to send chills down their spines.
"Come with me to the bathroom…" said Cam, looking at Mitch.
“What are you, a five-year-old girl? Even Lily hasn’t hit that age yet where she’s scared of everything.”
“Come on, you can go too,” Cam insisted.
“I told you not to drink so much water before bed. I came prepared just in case,” said Mitchell, stretching his arm to the right and proudly picking up a bottle from the floor.
Cameron frowned, “Is that…?”
“Emergency bottle… for peeing if necessary. I don’t think I’ll need it, but just in case. I’m not risking a bathroom trip on Halloween.”
“That’s disgusting!” Cam exclaimed, contorting his face like he’d just smelled sour milk.
“It’s practical. It’s survival. And honestly, one of the most heterosexual things I’ve ever done,” Mitchell added flatly. “And I’m not sharing it.”
“I didn’t even ask for it! What kind of monster do you think I am?!”
Mitchell carefully set the bottle back on the floor and settled into his pillow.
Cam shook his head. “I’m not going to the bathroom. Ever again. Not worth it. Let my bladder explode like a pumpkin in a microwave.”
Silence. For a moment.
Then Mitchell, in a more relaxed tone, said, “I think you’re safe… I saw Andrew before I went to bed. He was super tired. Didn’t even look like he had set anything up. Plus, between football, school, the YouTube channel, and his girlfriend… I doubt he had time.”
“You think he didn’t prepare anything?” Cam asked hopefully, though still with suspicion, as if Mitchell were suggesting he cross a minefield because “the mines look old.”
“I’m not sure,” Mitchell admitted, “but this is the first time in years I didn’t see him excited about Halloween, like he forgot the holiday. I also didn’t see him on the phone with Claire like they were plotting a bank heist.”
“Mmm…”
“And having a girlfriend… that changes a teenager,” said Mitchell, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “Ever since Pippa came back from Europe and they got past that first fight, they seem closer than ever. And he seems… different.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know… more present. More open. Before, when he was with Pippa, it was clear he liked her, sure, but it was like he treated the relationship with a checklist. Everything was practical, logical, like he was analyzing a football game: what day and time they should go out, when to call, how many texts were appropriate, everything calculated.”
“Classic Andrew,” said Cam, nodding with a knowing smile. “And very Pippa too. That girl is meticulous about everything, even breathing. She loves studying, needs time for her own things, and organizes her routine like it’s a science project.”
“Exactly. And with how organized he is with training, nutrition, schedules… they’re a weird couple for teenagers, but very functional. But now I see them both acting all clingy, like they finally got hit by the whole love-struck thing,” said Mitchell.
“So you think that made him forget about Halloween?” asked Cam.
“I don’t know if he forgot,” Mitchell said, shrugging, “but I think there’s a small chance he’s just too busy this year to bother attacking you tonight.”
“What if he’s pretending, just to lower our guard?” Cam asked again, still uncertain.
“Well, if that’s the case… he wins the award for Best Psychological Manipulation in a Family Setting.”
“Alright… I’m going,” said Cam, sighing with a glimmer of hope. He got out of bed and walked to the door like a man heading into battle. He opened it slowly, peeked out, and stepped into the dark hallway.
Only then did Mitchell allow himself a faint smile.
Cam walked toward the bathroom with all his senses on high alert. When he reached it, he flipped the light on quickly, bracing for the worst.
Nothing.
Everything was normal. The bathroom gleamed in white. Clean and quiet. No fake blood, no fake limbs, no doll eyes floating in the tub. Even the mirror was untouched.
Cam let out a relieved sigh as he softly closed the door. He turned toward the toilet, and then he felt it.
Not a sound, not a movement. Just… a feeling. Like when someone stares at you and you just know.
Slowly, like in a low-budget horror movie, Cam lifted his eyes toward the ceiling.
And there it was.
A massive black spider, the size of a watermelon, was hanging upside down right above him. Eight hairy legs spread like claws, a shiny body, red crystal-like eyes.
The kind of creature that would make arachnophobes cry.
Cam froze for a second. The spider was right above him. And then, as if it had received a signal, it dropped.
It let go of the ceiling and landed directly on Cam’s face, covering it completely.
“AAAAAAHHHH!”
A high-pitched scream echoed throughout the house. A second later, hurried footsteps rushed toward the bathroom. Mitchell was the first to burst in, barefoot.
When he saw Cam on the floor trying to tear a hyper-realistic giant spider off his face, he couldn’t help but grimace at the ugly creature, though a faint smile crept onto his face.
Mitchell winced instinctively. “It’s really ugly,” he muttered, already pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of Cam.
“ARE YOU TAKING A PICTURE?! MITCHELL, GET IT OFF ME!!” Cam screamed, flailing as if the spider were alive and plotting evil.
“I’m coming, I’m coming…” said Mitchell, trying not to laugh as he tucked his phone away.
Andrew appeared behind him, barefoot, in pajamas, but with the smile of an artist awaiting reviews after a performance. “Did it work?” he asked, already knowing the answer from the scream and trying not to laugh.
With total calm, Mitchell crouched and pulled the spider off Cam’s face. Cam slowly sat up, breathing heavily, eyes wide. His gaze shifted from the fake spider to Mitch, then to Andrew… and back to Mitchell.
“No… no way. You?” he said, incredulous.
“Yep,” Mitchell replied with a triumphant little smile.
“Traitor! You told me Andrew probably hadn’t done anything! You sent me to the bathroom like a lamb to the slaughter!”
“And you told me I could never pull off a decent Halloween prank,” Mitchell said, standing up with dignity and giving Andrew a high five.
Cam’s mouth dropped open, blinking in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Two nights ago. In the kitchen. We were talking about Halloween, Claire, Andrew, how creative they are with their pranks… and you, in your usual casual tone, said: ‘Oh, Mitchell, you’re not that kind of funny. You’re too serious. You couldn’t pull off a prank like that even if you were paid.”
“I didn’t say it like that!”
“Yes, you did. Maybe you didn’t mean to sound offensive… but you were.”
“It was just an observation, based on your type of humor, nothing offensive,” Cam tried to justify himself.
“Well,” replied Mitchell, pointing proudly at the fake spider, “that was my comeback. And I had help from the master,” he said, motioning to Andrew.
Andrew raised his eyebrows with mock humility. “The idea was totally Dad’s. I just helped out with Howard so the spider would have a motion sensor. It reacts to body heat and drops on its own when someone’s underneath. Pretty cool, right?”
“That damn bowl-cut gremlin…” muttered Cam through gritted teeth, picturing Howard’s face.
“Don’t take it out on our son’s friend,” Mitchell said, amused.
Andrew chuckled quietly. But Cam, still disheveled and breathing heavily, turned to him with a pointed look.
“And why don’t you pull these pranks on Pippa, huh?” he asked, indignant. “Let’s see if your girlfriend enjoys having a hairy tarantula fall on her face at three in the morning.”
'Whoa… it really got to him,' thought Andrew, eyeing Cam with a strange expression.
In his mind, the answer was clear:
It wouldn’t be funny to see Pippa scared. It just wouldn’t. Not like with the others.
When Cam screamed, jumped, flailed around on the floor, it was pure comedy. His exaggerated expressions, the wild arm flailing, that off-pitch voice: physical comedy gold.
Claire, on the other hand, was a high-level trophy. If he could get even a small flinch out of her, it felt like winning a psychological battle.
With Alex and Haley, the fun was in the aftermath: they always tried to chase him down, hit him with a pillow, or prank him back.
Phil laughed along with him. After the scare, he’d hug him and say things like, “That was brilliant! Real pro-level stuff! Didn’t see it coming!”
Jay… well, scaring Jay was harder than scaring Claire. So getting any reaction from him felt like an achievement.
But with Pippa… no.
Just imagining her startled, frightened, trembling, or confused, it stirred something uncomfortable in his chest. An automatic urge to protect her.
“No…” Andrew said, shrugging.
“No what?” asked Cam.
“It wouldn’t be funny to scare her…” Andrew replied. Then he turned and started walking down the hallway toward his room.
“You’re in love! Serious in love!” Cam called out, stepping toward the doorway to watch Andrew head to his room.
Andrew didn’t even stop.
Just as he was turning into his room, he raised a hand in the air like someone who didn’t have time for such things, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.
“Tough guy… doesn’t want to admit it,” Cam said with a faint smile.
“Well, I have to say, you recovered from the prank pretty well,” Mitchell commented.
Comments
Matt Holmes
Thanks for the chapter
