I prefer Jack-o'-Daniel's

Nemo Omara thought synthetic blood a marvelous creation. So difficult it was, to produce the actual substance out of thin air by means of a conjuring charm. And of what use would a tablespoon of the substance be? It simply would not do - but this truth had not hindered Nemo, for he had recalled the muggle-managed haunted house that he had visited with his father as a child, and the artificial blood that they had put to use for the occasion.

Surely, the muggle product would serve as a sufficient replacement.

With this thought in mind, Nemo had painted himself crimson, and after he was satisfied with his gruesome appearance, had splattered the ground with the remaining liquid.

The street that he'd deemed worthy of hosting his production had remained empty for several hours, but the faint voices of nearing students met with Nemo's ears as he lowered himself onto his back. It would only be a matter of time until a group of unsuspecting children stumbled upon his limp and bloodied figure, and the screaming commenced.

Evidently, Nemo had already had far too much to drink that Halloween.

Andrew wasn't really into the whole festivities of Halloween, yet it was a good outlet besides trying to get himself into fights or something. He really hated the fact that he was stuck in Hogwarts, not being able to see anyone, including his friends Chase and Jack. He wondered every single day if Vito had managed to get to them, and that worried him more than anything really. Yet he knew that he had to put these thoughts behind him, knowing full well that Chase and Jack had already graduated before him...not to mention that Jack herself was quite the beast when it came to conflicts. He wouldn't want to be in her path at all.

Yet still, Andrew continued to stalk the local festivities and attempt to find some joy for the rest of the year until he graduated. It was only October after all, he still had a long way to go. He wore dark clothing, mainly to go with the setting. Black hoody, black shoes, black jeans...he could probably be considered goth. He kept his hood up, not wanting to be spotted by anyone quickly, he'd rather feel anonymous tonight. To get his mind away from the small children that thought Hogwarts was the greatest place on Earth. It had been.

As Andrew continued his path, he stumbled upon a large red splatter on the ground...it was crimson. Curious, Andrew sidestepped over to the scene of the liquid and went on one knee, his eyes trained on the crimson. He swiped one finger over it and thought one thing. Blood. Yet it seemed off for some reason. He had felt blood upon his hands before, and this just didn't feel right. He looked down to the source and saw a lone body, lying there in a small light. "What the hell..." he muttered, getting back up on his feet and walking over to the body. He looked at the body and noticed that it was covered in the same substance...yet he didn't see any open wounds or any signs of struggle from the first examination. He glanced around, hoping really to see some sort of guy jumping on him or something while his friend looked dead on the ground.