Masked Misfits- Erma the Black-Eyed Witch
Original resin figure. SLA printed/ Hand painted. 4 inches tall.
Case File: Erma the Black-Eyed Witch
Erma was only eight years old, but she already had an opinion about everything.
Quick-witted, fiery, and endlessly argumentative, she seemed destined to become a lawyer someday.
Halloween was her favorite night of the year.
Her grandmother had sewn her a vintage-inspired witch costume, complete with a pointed hat. Her grandfather had carved her a broom from wood and hay.
Standing before her vanity mirror, Erma adjusted her hat and practiced her most wicked witch laugh.
"Hee-hee-hee..."
When she entered the living room, her grandparents smiled.
"What do you think?" she asked proudly.
"Oh my, you're precious," her grandmother replied.
"No! I'm wicked!"
"Can you at least be a good witch?"
"No. I'm a wicked witch drowned in beauty."
Her grandparents burst into laughter.
"Oh, you're something, alright." Laughed her grandfather.
"Wicked!" Erma shouted, emitting a devilish grin, that turned into laughter.
Later that evening, they headed to a Halloween celebration at the local park.
Hours passed.
Children ran through the decorations while families enjoyed games and festivities beneath a full moon.
Erma spent much of the evening chasing boys around the playground, threatening to turn them into toads.
Eventually, she cornered them.
"Ha! Got you!"
But no one was there.
The sounds of the celebration had faded behind her.
"Brad? Lucas?"
Silence.
"This isn't funny anymore."
She turned to head back toward the crowd.
A hand landed on her shoulder.
"AHH!"
She spun around.
"Brad! Lucas! You scared me!"
Then she noticed something was terribly wrong.
The boys' eyes were completely black.
Thick black liquid dripped from them like tears.
"Erma..." they whispered.
"Join us."
Terrified, Erma ran.
The boys hurled her broom, tripping her.
She crashed to the ground.
"Join us, Erma..."
As she struggled to stand, one of the boys brushed his hand across her face.
Everything changed.
The colors of the park became brighter yet somehow muted. The lanterns glowed with an eerie green haze. Time itself seemed distorted.
When Erma rubbed her eyes, black residue coated her fingers.
"Boys! Well done."
A voice emerged from the shadows.
"Boys! You did good." A voice emerged from the shadows. "Time to sleep my agents."
Lucas and Brad both fell to the floor.
"Erma, my child, how art thou?" the voice continued. "Who--who are you? How do you know my name? I am not supposed to talk to strangers." replied the confused girl.
"I heard you were a big fan of mine, and I am a bigger fan of you, child." The girl continuously rubbing her eyes, as the black goo persistently stays,
"What's--what's wrong with my eyes?" She begins to cry.
"Nothing to fear, child, it's all about your transformation." The man began to kneel down, towards Erma.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"Like a butterfly, do you know where butterflies come from?" the dark voice asked.
"From caterpillars." Erma replied.
"Exactly, Erma, exactly. "Think of this phase as if you were a caterpillar turning into a majestic butterfly."
"I want to go home."
"Do you like Halloween, Erma?" The man grinned.
"Yes."
"Do you love Halloween?"
"Yes."
The voice chuckled.
"Excellent."
The stranger stretched his arms wide, like a crow's wings.
The park lights flared brighter than ever.
Smoke swirled.
Music echoed through the darkness.
Suddenly, a magnificent Halloween carnival appeared before her eyes.
Clowns.
Tents.
Lanterns.
Costumes.
Endless celebration.
"Erma, it can be Halloween every day if you wish," the voice said. "Candy. Costumes. Scares. Jack-o'-lanterns. Bobbing for apples. Everything you love."
The girl stared in amazement.
"Really?"
"And we have plenty of children who love Halloween just as much as you do."
The stranger motioned toward the crowd.
A small boy stepped forward.
He wore an old pink bunny costume.
"Erma, this is my dear friend... Crem the Bunny."
The boy smiled and extended his hand.
"Would you like to explore Halloween Town with him?"
"Yes, please."
Crem helped the young witch to her feet.
Hand in hand, the two disappeared into the carnival lights.
As they walked deeper into the celebration, the illusion slowly faded.
The music grew silent.
The lights dimmed.
The carnival vanished.
Leaving behind only a trail of green smoke.
And another child who would never be seen again.
Cremated Plastic Toys
Hand-crafted collectibles inspired by horror, Halloween, and pop culture miniatures.
