Haggy

Physique

The Hag of Halloween, as they call her, appears to be a human female in peak physical condition but with an unusually Amazonian stature and build. Standing at an imposing height of 6'5", her body is 220 lbs of endless muscle beneath pale, sweat-slicked skin. Her abs are impressive in their own right, and her breasts—seemingly in defiance of the cruel passage of time—still proudly sit high and ever firm on her chest. How she maintains such a crazy rack despite rapidly approaching 40 is no doubt a result of the same supernatural forces that drive her unstoppable killing spree. They’re pert, and obnoxiously Z cups. Her pink, wide areolae jut sharply, nipples almost perpetually erect. Her arms are no different, covered in ropey, vein-riddled sinew, biceps, and triceps that are anything but natty. Her legs are built like tree trunks, and somehow, the individual musculature of her calves and thighs are visible even at rest. Her body is perfectly shaped to be the instrument of violence it is.

Attire

Topless always. The only modesty afforded to her breasts comes when covered by sickly sprays of blood. But from the waist down, she sports a pair of ass-hugging mom jeans with an exposed crotch that leaves her panties and inner thighs exposed to the chilly night air. She wears clunky black boots, steel-toed and caked with the brown of mud and dried blood. Her black hair is matted and oily with no discernable style as it is hacked short at the shoulder with indiscriminate savagery. Last of all, her most iconic accessory: a battered and ruined hockey mask. Rumors say it was taken from her first victim, a hockey player who, like the others, dared to mock her age, but had the misfortune of finally sending her over the edge.

Personality

Nightmare fuel in an indestructible, mid-30s body. Mute, predatory, and violently scornful of those who had denied her. Whatever vestiges of humanity or capacity for higher thought she had once possessed have long since been supplanted by an all-consuming, megalomaniacal drive to punish the nubile for their crimes of youth. The Hag is pure sadistic cruelty. Her maddening resentment and rage fuel her violent, bladed judgment upon all those who have the audacity to be both sexually desirable and too young to know who Kurt Cobain is. Petty jealousies and seething bitterness drive her. She is a grotesque caricature of femininity gone sour with bitter, barren yearning. Emphasis on barren.

Backstory

The Hag used to be a normal, beautiful, young woman. What caused her descent and transformation into the beast, the hag she is remains a mystery. The myths say it was unfortunate genetics, and the signs of age came for her far too early. The wrinkling of skin, a premature grey hair. Whatever it was, it was enough to elicit the repulsion of those around her quickly. Her youth had packed its bags and left. But rather than accepting the inevitable gracefully, something inside her snapped. As her womb began to shut up shop, the Hag's libido did not sputter out and die but rather inverted entirely, collapsing into a vaginal black hole of anti-lust. The withering of her sex drive coincided with a hypertrophy of the brain's murder (impulse) centers, a perfect storm of cougar-ific insanity amplified by the derision and scorn of the perpetually youthful around her. And so, like a menopausal butterfly, she took up the machete and donned the mask. They would pay. They would ALL pay for the crime of being infinitely more beddable than her. Now, The Hag stalks the land. On the night of frights, no babely high school stereotype is safe from her geriatric wrath. The jocks, the cheerleaders, the nerdy virgins with low self-esteem. They will know the fury of The Hag of Halloween. But there is still hope for her. After all, even a dying star can be reignited with enough power. If only she could be wanted again, but in a world as superficial as this, that seems like a long shot.