The master watched carefully for signs that the ethereal curtain would soon come into alignment. The bones of his minions had been cautiously collected and prepared, and the incantations spoken. Soon, the spirits would awake. Very soon.

As the year of preparations finally came to a close, the membrane between the worlds became less distinct. The curtain began to peel back, so that the dead may look upon the world of the living once more. Bones shook, as ghostly wisps floated unseen. Samhain was close at hand.

The cloak of night swept in, and the witching hour arrived swiftly. The master completed the final incantation, and his minions awoke once again. A loud crack was heard, and a mistake had been made... a small undesired imp appeared and began to feast upon the bones amongst the graves, only to vanish once again before morning's light. Soon all would be quiet once again, with the minions laid to rest until next year.