Halloween Story Contest

We would like to thank everyone who took the time to enter our Halloween Story Contest. the stories were great and the choices were hard, the winner is listed after the last story so we won’t spoil the surprise just yet!

Halloween Story Contest #1

A Halloween Surprise

By Emma Gabriel

            It was Halloween, the year of 2012, and little toddlers and elementary school kids paraded the sidewalk of Mystery Avenue in little princess, pirate, or witch costumes. Some of the older children dared to walk up the chipped brick steps of number thirteen only to squeak with fright and hurry back to their calling parents. This was because number thirteen was rumored to be unlucky, haunted. No one had lived in it in years. Now the house had boarded windows, an overgrown yard, and a For Sale sign that had been there for the last fifteen years. Many neighbors had seen perspective buyers come and go, screaming that they had heard voices in the house, or seen ghosts, that was why everyone who lived on mystery Avenue was surprised when the sign in front of the house read Sold.

The Easton’s family rumbled into the driveway of their new home. The moving truck screeched to a stop right behind them. The crisp autumn air whipped their hair as Mr. and Mrs. Easton stepped out of the car and grabbed boxes of picture frames and kitchen supplies. They were both excited to have a home in the “big city” as they called it. But Charlie had other thoughts about their new home. No one had ever asked him what he thought about moving, nobody asked him what he wanted to do. But, like his parents had told him whenever he complained, he had to make the best of it, so Charlie put a forced smile on his face and hurried to the door of number thirteen Mystery Avenue, his new home.

Charlie sat down on the front steps. What day was it again? Charlie wondered vaguely. Then he remembered the date, October 31, 2013. He had almost forgotten it was Halloween, not that it mattered to him, Charlie had stopped trick-or-treating years ago. Charlie sat on the doorstep some more and watched some kids walk by hand in hand with other trick-or-treaters or with their parents. The odd thing was, that everyone who walked by their house seemed to avoid it, or look up at it in fear. Charlie even saw two women mutter darkly to each other when they passed. Ignoring this, he went inside to help get the house set up.

Charlie poked around a little and found his parents’ bedroom, but no other. Puzzled, Charlie looked down the stairs into the basement, and saw two movers setting his bed in a corner of it. He was sleeping in the basement? He had not agreed to sleep with old rugs leaning against the wall, moldy ice-skates with rats living in them, and a washing machine that clanked and groaned like a ghoul. But as his parents had said, he would have to make the best of it because he couldn’t do anything about it now.

That night, after a dinner of cold soup, Charlie went to his bedroom, well basement. He was so tired from helping his dad lift furniture, and hanging up pictures, he had decided to go to bed early. That was when he noticed the door. It was about two feet high, and stood near the bottom of the stairs; a ray of moonlight fell across the old wooden surface. Intrigued, Charlie turned the handle, locked. Making a mental note to ask his parents about it in the morning, he fell into a restless sleep, dreaming twisted dreams of locked doors and of the two old women muttering to each other about his new house, thirteen Mystery Avenue.

What Charlie didn’t know was that behind that door was another world, called Arcannon. There, the king had just been killed by Pravus, the Dark Lord. Now Pravus was in charge, wreaking havoc. He was terrorizing villagers by day, and ordering the Child Snatcher to steal children for him by night. All the mothers were worried that their children would be next. But the mothers didn’t have to worry anymore, Pravus had a new goal. Ever since he had discovered a fascinating place called Earth, Pravus wanted to own it. Create more terror, become more powerful. He had spent years creating portals into this new and exciting world, seeking out sorcerers that could bewitch these portals to look like innocent locked doors, to hide what was really there. A door to the world of Arcannon.

Pravus was in the throne room. He was bored; drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Just then, the door squeaked open and his messenger scurried to the throne, tripping over his feet all the while. What a fool, thought Pravus, he can’t even put one foot in front of the other. The messenger gasped, catching his breath, and then bowed so low that his long nose nearly touched the carpet.

“What is it servant.” Pravus asked his voice like a knife cutting through the air.

“Th-The Child Snatcher is here my lord.” The messenger stuttered nervously. His hands were shaking and his face was pale.

“Ah, very good.” said Pravus. His voice was much softer and there was unmistakable delight in it. Pravus had wanted to see the Child Snatcher for quite some time. He had an important job for him.

“Tell him he can see me now.” Pravus ordered.

“Yes my lord.” Replied the messenger. And he fell flat on his face, stood up, and scurried back out the door again.

A few seconds later the doors opened with a bang and the lights seemed to flicker as the bulk of the Child Snatcher lumbered into the throne room. In two strides he was in front of Pravus.

“You asked to see me.” The Child Snatcher said in a voice like rumbling thunder.

His arms were as thick as logs, with muscles the size of bowling balls. He was bald except for a mustache that was a tangled mass of hair and pieces of food that had gotten stuck there. His eyes were strange. One was black, and the other bright blue. He wore a black cloak with a red sash, the uniform of a kidnapper. When people in the town saw him in this uniform, they fled to their houses. Looking anxiously into the street from behind closed shutters until the Child Snatcher was a block away. The Child Snatcher loved being feared. Like Pravus, he had the ability to scare people just by looking at them. Pravus leaned close to the Child Snatcher and said,

“I have a very important mission for you.”

“Ah, yes.” Replied the Child Snatcher smiling nastily.

“I was disappointed with my rewards from your last job, I feel as though I was underpaid.” His voice was getting soft and dangerous, like a venomous snake about to bite. Pravus gulped.

“I’ll pay you as many gold coins as you like, with five rubies.” Pravus whispered.

“Six rubies!” the Child Snatcher demanded. Pravus nodded numbly.

“Good.” The Child Snatcher said, now satisfied with his pay.

“I will meet you at the tavern tonight at midnight, and I shall give you your quest.” Pravus told him.

The Child Snatcher nodded matter of factly and strode down the long carpet to the door. He opened it, and disappeared with a swish of his cloak. Pravus sighed with relief. The Child Snatcher scared even him sometimes.

Pravus made his way to the tavern. He walked swiftly through dark alleyways and dirty streets. A stray cat slinked around in the trash, and an owl hooted in the distance. Soon he could see the harbor. The usual lights from fishing boats were not there, Pravus wasn’t surprised. Ever since he had risen to power, people didn’t like to go out after dark, especially on the scariest day of the year, October 31st.  Finally Pravus was at the tavern. Lights were shining brightly in the windows, and a crooked sign on the door said: Tavern, keep out strangers. Nonsupporters of Pravus are not welcome.

All the burglars and criminals of Arcannon went to the tavern. It was always very busy, Pravus slipped through the door without being noticed. The Child Snatcher sat at the bar sipping from a large, dirty glass. Pravus wove through the large crowd of noisy people to the bar where the Child Snatcher was sitting. “Follow me.” Pravus said. And, making sure the bartender wasn’t looking; Pravus led the Child Snatcher to a small broom closet that held extra supplies. A mouse scuttled away as Pravus opened the door.

“I have been working on this for years. I need you to keep this a secret, and never tell anyone.” Pravus began. “Closer than you think, is a portal to Earth.”

The Child Snatchers’ eyes narrowed suspiciously. Many people had tried unsuccessfully to make portals into this strange new place, it was impossible. Was Pravus tricking him?

“My plans are too confidential to confide with you, but I need you to get me a human child.”

“How am I supposed do that?” Asked the Child Snatcher.

Pravus pulled a ruffled looking quill from his pocket, and on a cabinet that looked quite ordinary, he scrawled the letter P on the aged wood. To the Child Snatcher’s surprise the letter glowed brightly, and the cabinet swung off the wall to reveal a door, about two feet high. Pravus said

“This is your answer.”

Charlie jerked awake with a start. He didn’t know what had woken him. He scanned around the room, his eyes wandered past the little door. His heart was pounding. He was sure he had seen the doorknob turn.

To Be Continued

 

Halloween Story Contest #2

Don’t Be Afraid

Ny Melanie Santos

            3:47 p.m.

Leo made it to the top of the stairs and paused, trying to catch his breath.  He listened:  nothing.  No one was following him—not now, anyway.

He had run the whole way home from school again.  The kids who chased him usually stopped at the Fire Station, but today they kept running, yelling after him as he tried to get away.  Even worse, they were all wearing masks because today was Halloween, his least favorite day of the year.

He would’ve loved to stay home tonight, but if he did, his dad would want to know why his eleven-year old son was too afraid to go out on Halloween.  Leo hadn’t even told him about those kids from school yet.   It was too embarrassing.

All of a sudden, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye:  a brown paper bag, sitting in front of his apartment door.  Weird.  Why was it there?  Maybe one of those kids had gotten there ahead of him and left it.  His stomach began to churn at the thought of what might be inside the bag.

Then he saw that neighbor lady, Mrs. Noga, watching him from her doorway down the hall.  Their eyes met and she shut her door.  Old people were nervous like that, he thought, but who was he to talk?  He was chased home from school every day!  His attention shifted back to the bag.  If he called his dad about it, what would he say? “Hey, Dad, there’s a paper bag in front of our apartment door, but I’m too afraid to look inside”?  And if he just left it there, some trick-or-treater might open it and find … something awful.

Leo knew what he had to do.  He approached the door, unlocked it, and nudged the bag inside as he stepped in.  It certainly didn’t smell like something awful.  It smelled delicious.  Curiosity and hunger got the best of him.  He bent down and cautiously opened the bag…

3:40 p.m.

Anna waited, peering through a sliver of opening in her doorway—sitting, because her knees ached when she stood for too long.  She listened for the sound of the boy—Leon? Leo?—the one who usually came thumping up the apartment stairs about this time every afternoon.  The boy and his father were nice people – they had helped her once or twice, moving some boxes and changing the battery in her smoke detector.   She wished the boy would hurry up and come home because not everyone in this world was nice.  Sooner or later, some hoodlum would come along and swipe that bag she’d left him outside his door.  Either that or one of those trick-or-treaters …

Anna hated Halloween.  All she wanted was to be left alone, but it was impossible when gangs of kids came banging on your door all night, begging for candy.  October 31st was hard enough as it was.  Her beloved Josef had died a year ago on this very day.

Don’t be afraid.  Those had been Josef’s last words to his wife before he died, but how could she not be afraid?  She was alone now.  Completely alone.  Since then, she had become a shut-in, a reclusive old lady who rarely left her apartment.  She had lost a husband, but fear had replaced him as her companion.

And then yesterday, a strange thing had happened.  Out of nowhere, Anna had decided to make a batch of brownies.  It was an odd thing to do considering the fact she didn’t even like brownies, but Josef had.  They had been his favorite.  When they were done baking, Anna realized how foolish she had been.  She had no one to give them to.  That’s when she thought of the little boy down the hall …

Thump, thump, thump! Thump!  Good.  He was finally home.  Anna would watch for a little while longer and then close the door before he noticed her.  She didn’t want him to know who left the bag: charity was best when it was anonymous.  Then the boy turned his head and looked down at the bag resting at his doorstep.   His expression changed and Anna thought he looked uneasy, afraid.  Before she could understand his reaction, he was looking at her.  She shut the door immediately.

3:50 p.m.

Brownies.  No note attached, but they were just brownies.  The smell of them enveloped Leo.  He badly wanted to pour himself a glass of milk and devour one—maybe two—of those wonderful-smelling brownies, but what if they were poisoned? …

Leo heard something.  “Dad?!” he called out.  He was sure he’d heard it, but his dad wasn’t due home for another hour.  With more than a little panic in his step, he took a quick walk-through of the apartment, just in case.   Kitchen, living room, bathroom, both bedrooms:  all clear.  He went back to the bag of brownies.

Then he heard it again—a voice, but not his father’s.   Had one of those kids from school gotten into the apartment somehow?  This was too much for Leo, especially on Halloween.  A cold trickle of sweat ran down his spine and he shivered.  “Don’t be afraid,” said the voice.  Leo couldn’t breathe.

5:02 p.m.

Matt was terrified.

Four times he’d called the apartment with no answer.  Perhaps Leo had gone to the Halloween Parade, but that was unlikely—his son didn’t seem to enjoy being around other kids these days—so Matt found himself racing down Route 6, trying not to run over trick-or-treaters and cursing himself for not getting Leo a cell phone.

Two blocks from home and stuck at a red light!   What if Leo was hurt?  Matt didn’t like his eleven-year old coming home to an empty apartment every day, but this was how it had to be for now.  At least until he got that promotion.  If he got it …

God, he missed his wife.

At long last, he pulled into the parking lot and scrambled up the staircase as though his life depended on it.  Or Leo’s.  Panting, he fumbled with his keys, calling out his son’s name until he finally burst through the door.  “LEO!” he hollered, but the only sound that met him was the echo of his own voice.

And then, abruptly, it was over.  Leo’s voice, unmistakable, out in the hallway.  Suddenly, Matt could breathe again.  He raced to the door and opened it, finding Leo.  The boy seemed to be having a conversation with someone, but when Matt checked the hallway, no one else was there.

“Where were you?” Matt demanded.  “I’ve been calling for an hour!”  He hated getting angry with the boy, who had already been through so much in the past year.

“I was at Mrs. Noga’s,” the boy answered simply.

Matt frowned.  “Who?”

“Mrs. Noga.  Down the hall.  I got scared so I went to her place.  She’s teaching me how to play poker.”

More confused now than angry, Matt just stood for a moment, examining his son.  “Why were you scared?  And who were just talking to?”

Leo hesitated.  There was so much to tell his father:  about those kids from school, and the voice in the apartment which, at first, he had believed to be his father’s.   After talking with Mrs. Noga, he had decided to tell his dad about all of it—even the hard parts—but later, not then.  “Dad,” he finally said.  “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Matt was stunned.  This has something to do with Halloween.  “Ghosts?” he repeated, but in a gentler tone.

“Good ghosts,” said Leo.  “The kind that look after you and help you when you’re afraid.”

Matt’s throat tightened and his eyes began to burn.   He’s talking about his mother.  “Good ghosts … yeah, absolutely.  Do you believe in them?”

“Absolutely,” answered the boy.  “Dad, did you know that Mrs. Noga’s husband died last year?”  Matt shook his head.  “She made me brownies today.”  He smiled, pointing to the paper bag on the counter.  “They were Josef’s idea.  You want one?”

Matt didn’t know who Josef was, but he was grateful that his son seemed to have made a new friend.

 

Halloween Story Contest #3

The “Jack”- o- lantern

By Samantha Winters

            Once upon a pumpkin, on the island of Roundsville, the villagers were gathered, for the pumpkin festival was about to begin. There were pumpkin hats, pumpkin desserts,

pumpkin soup and the traditional pumpkin stories play. The villager’s favorite story was the first event. It was called “The Farmer’s Misfortune” and it went like this:

One day, one awful day, a farmer grew the most awful pumpkin ever seen. He had been cursed by a witch, and now instead of a green thumb, he possessed an unlucky thumb. The pumpkin rotted within a day and the bad luck resided in the stem. The farmer could let it rot and have the pumpkin stench cause everyone to move away, or cut the stem and let the bad luck escape. One day, the stem was snapped by a rake ripping it open. That instant a face grew onto the pumpkin, exactly like the farmer’s face and his disappeared! It grew a hooded cloak for a body and a steed materialized. The farmer’s face turned orange, his hair grew into a green stem and his body turned into brown roots. He sunk into the ground. It just happens that his wife ran outside and said “Jack!” for that was his name and then said “Oh!” and saw the pumpkin filled with light. The youngest child ran out and said “Lantern!” and now pumpkins with faces were henceforth known as “Jack-o-lanterns”. As for the cursed pumpkin rider, he roams the countryside appearing on Halloween whenever a Jack-o-lantern is lit. You are transformed if he touches the pumpkin when you do. You are spared only when you hold a “Pumpkin Festival” in his name. So hold a festival before it’s too late!!!

 

Halloween Story Contest #4

The Legend of The Wanderer

By Kira Sarkarati

            This is the legend of the Wanderer. Many people don’t know the tale, but I do.

Back in the eighteen hundreds there was a girl, Cassy. One thing about Cassy was, no one ever got to know her.  She was boarding the Wanderer. It was a stormy day, all the clouds were full of storm.  That night Cassy woke up chained to the mast. Screaming and shrieking, the captain came. Cassy took a quick sigh of relief, then when she saw the captain she gasped . Soon as she had looked she wished she hadn’t. The captain’s own face was see through! Then he shook the mast till Cassy fell. He picked up Cassy and whispered to her ‘’Never say a word of this. ‘’Cassy nodded and ran off to her room.

That morning Cassy and the other five crew members were doing their daily swim. Just then the most feared creature of the ocean came lurking along[a shark]. Well Cassy was on the dock drying off. Right when she turned around all she saw was about the amount of blood in two human bodies! And then she realized three of the crew members had been eaten. That left them with Cassy and the rest of the crew members.

That night, there was a terrible storm. Cassy woke up and wanted to go on the deck. The waves were so high, Cassy started jumping up and down because she was so happy to see the waves. Two seconds later, she was drowning in the water.

The next day the ghost of Cassy had found her way onto the Wanderer. She got into the captain’s lounge and drove around, full speed and went in circles. Two crew members fell off the boat, Cassy on the other hand just wanted revenge so she just snickered. That second Cassy took the boat to the middle of the ocean and then went to the deck, got a harpoon and flew to the captain and shot it through his head. That meant Cassy had murdered three innocent human beings. Cassy ran all the way to the harpoon shelf and grabbed the last one. She jumped underwater and shot a hole in the Wanderer.

Yes, the Wanderer did sink. Cassy was never seen again. Or was she?

 

Halloween Story Contest #5

The Old Shack in the Woods

By Jeanne McCarthy

            We were always afraid as we walked by the old shack in the woods when I was a boy. It was scary any time of year, but especially around Halloween. History had it that back in 1942 Mr Myers hung himself inside and has haunted the place ever since. He’d come back from a tour in the US Air Force and found out his betrothed gal had given her heart to someone else. Poor guy just couldn’t take it.

The house itself was creepy. When the moon reflected on it at night, it looked like someone was inside. The shutters were sometimes drawn and sometimes open, but we figured homeless folk or kids gathered there and did it.

One night on Halloween we took shelter in this old shack. It may have been creepy but we needed to get out of the quick storm that had picked up and sent driving rain down sideways and a whirl of wind that almost knocked us down. Drenched to the skin, we hurried inside and held onto one another for safety as well as support from the winds. If not for that storm, I know I would never have been inside that place. Ty was older, and wiser, and told us the old legends were just that, legends that were made up to scare the locals. I don’t know. I do know we saw a few odd things in there—there was a wooden box shaped like a casket in the basement,  set in a hole in the wall that looked like it may have once been a hidden door. We didn’t dare touch it to see if anything was inside. There was also a kitchen table, all wrought iron and formica, and set on It there had been  2 dirty glasses of some red substance in them— Ty said Tomato Juice, but as I thought “Bloody Marys”, the thought came: BLOOD. No, I told myself. Calm down.

Suddenly we heard creaking sounds in the attic. Or was that the basement? Oh. Oh. Our eyes were wide with fear. We heard what I swear was a cough and a sputter and hack—but I was on my feet and out the door before I could determine any more. It sounded like the dead, not like anything living, and I didn’t even wait for the other two guys. I just ran as fast as I could, coward or not. I ran all the way home and lay on my bed to catch my breath without even drying off. I must have dozed off. I awoke to a tap-tap-tapping noise. I looked around, and it was still night. I heard the tapping was coming from the window when more tapping came. I looked up and could not believe what I saw—it was Ty. He was suspended in the air outside my window, pale as could be (and Ty was not fair skinned) and just floating there tapping like he wished to get in. His lips were blood red. I screamed so loud my mother came upstairs, and I must have scared Ty away. She said I must have been dreaming, and asked me what  had happened . I wouldn’t say.

Later we got a call from Ty’s parents that really creeped me out. He never made it home. In fact the police had suspended a search for him and there was a private search that had yielded nothing, not even a clue. Everyone knew Ty didn’t run away but the police say it was a possibility.  I never said anything. And I never saw my friend again. And never went near that old Myers place either. By now it must have fallen down or been torn down, but no one ever saw or heard from Ty again.

 

Halloween Story Contest #6

Jack’s Story

By Aurora Martin

            Hi! My name is Jack and I am going to tell you my story.

It was a nice, crisp, sunny fall day.  I could feel the dirty ground below me. I could smell the apples that were growing on the trees nearby. I was happy just relaxing and laying in the sun.

All of the sudden I felt warm hands on me. They flipped me over side to side, and tossed me all around. Then I felt them lift me into the air. I felt sick on the bumpy ride as I bounced and rolled around. I was taken from my home and brought to a strange place. I felt the cold hard cement underneath me. I was scared. I heard the owls hoot and the dogs bark. Night after night I sat cold and alone.

All of the sudden I felt the warm hands grab me again.

JAB!

A knife went through my skin. Again and again, I felt the knife stab through every part of me, destroying me. I felt my insides being torn and scraped out.

The horror!

The torture!

Why was this happening I cried to myself.

I felt hollow and empty.

Then Fire. I felt the warmth, I could smell the burning. This was the end! Please don’t set me on fire I thought. Someone help! I can’t take it any longer!

But wait! The fire lit a light inside of me. And then, I could see! I had eyes! And a nose! And a mouth with a smile! I saw children smiling back at me. This was not the end! This is wonderful I thought!

“Hello! My Name is Jack!” I said with my new mouth.

But the children looked terrified. They ran away screaming and crying!

I don’t know why?

 

Halloween Story Contest #7

Harvest Moon

By Victoria Wheeler

         Out of all the stupid things we had done, this was right up there with putting snakes in the nurse’s office or putting the llama in the vice principal’s office.

So why was I here? Right, I was the one with the video camera and who owed a favor. And as every friend knows, once you owe a favor there is no backing out.

It all started earlier that day when I made the mistake of answering the phone. The voice on the other end said in a sing-song voice, “When the Harvest Moon rises the dead hold surprises!”

“Really, this again?”

“I’m pulling the favor card now. What for, you may ask? I never got paid back for the lunch money you borrowed the other day.”

“That was today! I said I’d pay you back tomorrow!”

“Yes, but I need a person with a video camera and you get to keep your money! It’s a win-win situation!”

I said nothing.

“You need adventure in your life.”

“Yes, because an anti-social butterfly who likes to stay in their room definitely needs adventure.”

“So glad you see my point! Be there in an hour, Jay’s bringing his truck.” The person on the other end hung up.

Nothing to do now but wait and plug in the camera so it could charge.

During the hour, I kept pacing. Ghosts weren’t real, they were just special effects on those “reality” TV shows.

So what reason did I have to fear anything?

A buzz from my phone brought me back to my senses.

“Hello?”

“Jade, we’ll be there in five.” The person on the other end hung up.

Fantastic, I was about to waste a night of my life going outside my comfort zone to chase after stuff that didn’t exist.

“So not a reason to check into the psych ward,” I said as I grabbed my jacket and camera.

As I stepped out the front door, Jay’s truck pulled up. Erin rolled down the window on the passenger side, yelling at me to hurry up.

“Jade, sometimes it’s better to be faster than cold molasses. Not slower. Like when we are about to prove that the cornfield is haunted. Besides, this ghost only comes around once a year, so unless you want me calling again in a year then I suggest you be faster next time.”

“I’m already in the truck, so stop complaining. Jay, let’s go, so we can keep Erin happy.”

Jay said nothing, just put the truck into drive and did his thing as chauffeur.

It seemed that the closer we got to the school and its cornfield, the more excited Erin got.

At long last she burst, telling us everything she knew about the place. “I haven’t told you guys why the place is haunted yet, have I? Anyways, back in the 1990’s a couple of kids decided it would be a good idea to have a bonfire, booze and drugs included. In short, only 5 of the 6 survived, though with terrible burn wounds. They managed to burn down about half of the cornfield before the fire was put out. As for the one that died, his body was never recovered, although it is speculated that the body was never fully burned. To this day, he comes to wreak vengeance on whoever dares disturb his vigilante.”

Jay finally spoke. “What, have revenge for his own stupidity? And what vigilante? The one where he looks for his half-finished beer and packet of drugs? If we weren’t almost there I would be turning back right now.”

“But you wouldn’t turn around, you want to have some excitement as much as the anti- social butterfly knows she wants to.”

“Amazing, an urban legend that doesn’t involve some crazy person escaping from a hospital. And you know what else, Erin? This is crazy. This is stupid. This is a sure-fire way to get caught by the night guard, get thrown out of the Aggie, go back to that place known as ORR and be ridiculed for the rest of our lives!”

Erin fell silent for a few minutes. “Jay, park the truck here.”

It was the small parking area before the Berkley-Dighton bridge, and not wanting to anger Erin, Jay did as told.

“C’mon, we can walk across the bridge.” Erin grabbed a bag at her feet and got out. Jay and I followed suit.

Walking over the bridge was an eerie thing, the river down below, reflecting the light from what little stars could be seen and the orange of the moon. A single car drove past, buffeting wind through the metal fence that separated the bridge’s sidewalk from the road.

On the other side, I finally built up the courage to ask Erin, “What’s in the bag?”

“Iron. Salt. Matches. Can of lighter fluid. Machete. The basic materials to defeat anything evil. And a non-inverted pentagram for comfort.”

“No holy water?” asked Jay.

“Do I look like I know anyone that would be able to get their hands on some?” Erin turned, going down a narrow path between the cornstalks. “Jade, camera on.”

I did as she told, the beep of it turning on sounding too loud in the still night.

“Does the night guard ever come down here?” I asked.

“No, by now they’d be up at the horse barn by now. We’ve got a few minutes, which should be enough to get this ghost on camera.” Erin turned, flashing a smile at the camera. “And now, dear watchers, this is where the BCAHS Ghost Hunter’s Club sets up, to catch the most infamous ghost of Bristol Aggie on camera!”

“That was so fake,” I said.

“Yes, but I needed a way to make fun of those so-called ghost hunters!”

I laughed at her poor joke, but stopped when I heard something moving out in the cornfield.

“Uh, Erin, Jay, there’s something out there.”

“It’s just the wind through the cornstalks. Relax, Jade.”

“Or through the trees,” said Jay, pointing in the general direction of the trees by the irrigation pond.

“Sure,” I said, but it was a weak attempt at calming my nerves.

Erin emptied her pack, putting some things in her coat’s pockets and attaching the machete to her belt.

“Do I even want to ask how you got that?” asked Jay,

“Birthday gift. Not only useful for serious camping or hiking, but also for decapitation.”

Another rustle in the cornstalks, only this time closer. I swung towards the sound, video camera picking up on nothing.

Only this time, Erin and Jay heard it.

“Erin, you still sure it’s a ghost?”

Erin swallowed, clearly nervous. “It’s probably just a cat.”

“Do cats make that much noise?” hissed Jay.

“Even worse, the night guard?”

“Do night guards drag their feet or walk directly through rows of corn? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but that stuff hurts!” Erin drew her machete from its sheath.

By now we were back to back, circling as the thing going through the corn came closer.

I kept my eyes looking through the screen of the camera, as though that would make the situation better.

It didn’t, especially when the camera picked up a foot stepping out into the clearing around the irrigation pond, lit up by the light from the orange moon.

“Erin!” I squeaked.

She and Jay whipped around, looking at the monstrosity shuffling from the corn.

“Zombie?” asked Jay, voice quaking.

“This isn’t some 60’s movie monster,” shot back Erin. “ ‘Cause zombies as most of the world knows them didn’t exist till then.”

“Then what is it?” It just kept coming closer and closer, rotted body clearly shown off in the moonlight. It looked like it had been a burn victim.

“Revenant,” said Erin. “Most definitely a revenant.”

“It’s coming closer!” I took a step back, ready to run.

Erin walked forward, machete raised, ready to stab the thing. “Decapitation works best with this stuff,” she said. She took a swing at it, but for something dead it was able to dodge the blade.

“Please tell me these aren’t zombies that can move fast,” asked Jay. He was ready to burst into tears, his voice told that much. We didn’t have any weapons, and the revenant was giving Erin a hard time.

“Revenant, not zombie! Get it right!” This time she was the one who had to duck a blow from the creature.

“Jay, throw a rock at it?”

“What?”

“Distract it!”

Jay, finally having something other to do than burst into tears, did as I said. he threw a rock at the thing, and it was distracted, long enough for Erin to swing her machete at its neck.

Although unlike in the movies, a machete always doesn’t go through completely.

She backed off in horror, staring at the blade embedded in its neck.

“Guys, now would be a good time to run.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.” Jay was the first to break, running off the dirt tractor track towards the road.

I was next, not bothering to look back. I could hear Erin coming up behind me a few seconds later.

I wanted to ask her a question, but she must have seen the look on my face and yelled, “No time for questions!”

Jay got to the road, stopped, and panted.

We stopped when we got to him.

I turned around, looking to see if the revenant was following.

Sadly, I didn’t get a chance to completely look before Erin grabbed me and Jay by the wrists, dragging us to where she could see the night guard walking across the campus.

“Hey, hey!” she yelled, trying to get the guards attention.

He turned towards us, a look of sheer annoyance on his face.

Erin stopped us right before we slammed into him, and babbled all.

This wasn’t part of the plan!

*****

The next week was very interesting. We got to stay at the Aggie, but were constantly kept a close eye on.

No one believed us, not even the people who really believed in this stuff.

We were walking to our NRM class a few days later, discussing what had happened.

“Well, I’d say we’re crazy.”

“Doesn’t matter. You still have the stuff on tape.”

“Everyone dismissed it as really good special effects.”

“Such a pity. There’s no way to prove it really happened.”

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

The sirens of the police cars got closer.

“Why are they going into the cornfield?”

The three of us looked at each other, but then remembered we were being followed.

“Guess it’ll have to wait till later.”

We didn’t have to wait long. In a small school news travels fast, so by the second hour of our NRM class we had heard the tale.

“One of the workmen found a dead body in the cornfield. Very rotted, looked like a burn victim. They say it had a machete in its neck!”

This was passed around, till it evolved into some sort of alien that had crash-landed and was taken out by the feds.

By the end of the day, our spirits were lifted.

On the bus, Erin brought up a good point.

“Don’t show that video to anyone.”

“Why?”

“There was enough light; they match the body to the one in the video and we get locked up. Just cause they think we killed a living human with a really good make-up job.”

As much as I didn’t want to, I hated to say that Erin was right.

“Fine. But I do have one question. Don’t revenants seek revenge?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did this one want to take out revenge on us? We did nothing to it.”

“I don’t know, Jade.”

“Maybe it was trying to teach us a lesson,” said Jay. “Keep us away from doing what it did. Maybe that’s why it came around every Harvest Moon, to keep idiot kids from harming themselves.”

“Sure Jay. That’d be one for the record books. Never heard of a revenant that was good.” Erin and Jay fell silent, but were probably thinking that same thing I was: Could a supposedly evil creature be nice?

“You know,” I said, “I say we do this again next Harvest Moon.”

“Not on your life, anti-social butterfly.”

 

Halloween Story Contest #8

Witches

By Hannah Watt

            “Witches!” somebody screams. I look at my older sister Becky. She looks terrified. “What’s …” I say but my sister interrupts me. “Come on! We need to get out of here!” she says. “But what about Spot?” I ask. Spot is our dog. “He’s right there,” Becky says pointing to my side. We start running on the road.

I am confused. Why would witches attack our magical town of Everly? I feel for my magical ball. Every single person in Everly gets a magical possession or talent at the age of eleven. Mine is a glass ball with which you can see the future. You can also turn into any animal you have in your ball. My sister has the talent of making good potions.

All of a sudden, Becky stops. I stop and look up. My heart stops, I’m terrified by what I see. In front of us is a tall witch. She has long black messy hair, all tangled with knots. Her skin is pure green like any witch. It is gross! At least it looks like dirt, worm slime and it smells like rotten eggs. Her dress is torn and has holes in it. Its color is a mixture of black, gray and green. She has long, really long fingernails. You can’t see how bad they are since she is wearing gloves, which I’m thankful for. These witches hate non-magical people but also hate all magical people that are good. I look at her face. Her eyes are all wrinkled and old looking. She has no eyebrows: all the hairs are plucked. Her nose is crooked but has wide, flaring nostrils. Her arms are thin and wrinkled with many creases. Her eyes can see like a hawk, they are beady-looking and blood red. In her hands she clutches an old wooden broom. I am completely terrified and rooted to the spot.

“Oh look what I got here!” she says excitedly. Before we can do anything, she grabs us and drags us up a winding road. I can hear my heart thumping loudly and am afraid the witch can too. My sister looks absolutely horrified as we are dragged into what was once the city hall, but now is a dungeon. Just then I see it: a witch taller than all the others, meaner than all the others, so mean that I know she is the leader of them all. “Oh look what we got here!” she says in a teasing voice. “The daughters of ‘smart’ Ted and Georgina!” she says teasingly. “Oh they would be petrified to hear that their daughters failed in protecting themselves from me.” Anger rises up in me and is now boiling. I want to hurt her with all my might. Of course I can’t do that though, because the witch has a firm grip on me. “Let’s lock them up, shan’t we?” she says, enjoying herself even more every second. The witch drags us to a cell and throws us in. With a thump I land on the floor. Then I hear the click of the lock and I look up to see she holds a key with a zigzagged edge and a printing of a hat on it.

The witch is suddenly gone. Instead, an ugly guard monster with long sharp fangs and blood shot eyes has taken her place. The creature is drooling blood. I suddenly realize where the blood is from: People the monster has killed!

I look around. How are we going to get out of this place? I think to myself. My sister quietly comes over to me. “It’s a Gobroth monster,” she says so quietly, I can barely hear. We have to be really careful. They can understand our language and even speak it. “How are we going to get out of here?” I ask quietly. My sister shrugs. Then all of a sudden an idea pops into my mind. I tap my sister and she looks at me. I point at the pocket my ball is in. She looks confused for a second and then understands. I am not quite sure what I can do with the ball but maybe it will help us. All of a sudden my sister’s eyes are gleaming.

She whispers quietly “Turn into a mouse.” I am confused for a second and then I get it. What a brilliant plan! I am jealous I didn’t think of it first. “Here’s the plan. First, I will distract the Gobroth and you will turn into a mouse. Then, while I am distracting him, you find the key to the cell. It is either in the witch’s pocket or the room that is guarded by creatures.”

How will I get around the creatures?”

“You are small enough and you have to be very quiet and also sneaky. Then you steal the key back and bring the three things back that the witches need to stay powerful. One is the ruby from which you can drink potions. The other is the walking stick and last but not least the wand. Pour my newest potion, the invisibility potion, over the three items you are supposed bring with you. Then pour my shrinking potion over it, so they get small enough for you to carry. Got it?”

“Got it!” I knew how big of a risk I was taking so I felt like I was about to throw up, but I didn’t ask any questions.

“Okay, here we go!”

“Wait,” I whisper “I take the invisibility potion, too, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Becky says quietly. She hands me two bottles from inside her cloak. Both bottles might be small enough for a mouse to carry, but they hold a lot of liquid inside. I take hold of the bottles and grasp my ball while Becky distracts the Gobroth by talking to it. The Gobroth doesn’t look at Becky, it just stares off somewhere.

I touch the ball and think of a mouse. All of a sudden the cell spins and then everything is still. Becky is still distracting the Gobroth. I grip my ball tightly and drink some of the invisibility potion. Becky gives me a little nod to say that I am invisible. Quietly I slip through the bars of the cell. I walk carefully past all the cells so as not to bonk into any Gobroth guarding them. I try not to look at all the people locked up in them. Witches, Gobroths, ghastly  skeletons and vampires roam the hallways.

There are so many odd creatures I nearly run into a witch. All of a sudden I realize that it is the witch that had locked us up in the cell. I study her dress. Were there even pockets in this dress where the key might be? Then I see it – something is sticking out on the side of her dress. The pocket! Quickly I scamper after her and then, when I get close enough I jump onto the hem of her dress. Slowly I climb up, leaning not too much so she can’t feel me climbing up. Finally, I reach the pocket, sweating hard. I climb inside. The pocket is huge and filled with tons of keys. How am I ever going to find the right key? Then I remember the zigzag cut on the key. The only problem is that all the keys have zigzags for cuts. All of a sudden it hits me: The witch hat print! I search all the keys until I find it. Finally! I am holding the key in my paw. I climb out of the pocket and jump landing quietly.

Soon I am dodging people, scampering as fast as I can. Then I see it: A highly guarded room. Can it be the one I am looking for? Excitedly I slip in. Sure enough it is the one. It has a table with glass cases holding each object. The long one is the emerald walking stick. The other a pure silver wand with a golden tip. Last but not least the Red Ruby, the most powerful of all. One sip of the ruby’s potion makes the witches strong for two years. It always refills itself unless you destroy it.

All of a sudden I hear the voice of the leader witch. I freeze. This is what she says: “Hello! Today is the day when the potion runs out. There will be a ceremony when I drink it. But first we must capture our guests!” she says with a harsh laugh.

“When is the ceremony, ma’am?” asks the skeleton.

“In five minutes,” the witch says. Then she leaves without saying anything else.

First, I creep up to the table and I quietly look at the glass case. It’s locked! I look at the skeleton and see he has a key. Quietly I slip it out of his hand and replace it with a fake one. Once I have all the keys and replaced them with fake ones, I open the cases. First, I open the one with the emerald walking stick. Carefully, I pour some shrinking potion over it. Next is the wand. Then comes the ruby. Once everything is small, I carry it with me when I climb down the table again.

Suddenly I realize how much time I have lost. I scamper off, worrying more each minute about how much time I am losing. Finally, I am near the cell. I wonder what Becky will think once she knows I did it. I slip into the cell. Becky is still distracting the Gobroth. Just then the invisibility potion wears off. I grab my ball and think of me … Sarah. Then I turn back into my normal self.

Becky smiles. “Ready?” she asks.

“Ready”, I say.

Out of her cloak she pulls a potion, taking the ruby first and pours some potion over it. Then she takes the wand and does the same. Last but not least she takes the emerald walking stick and pours potion over it.

At that moment, everything is silent. Then there is a hiss. Soon we can hear small popping noises. The skeletons turn into their normal selves, along with the Gobroths, the ghosts and the vampires. The witches fall to the floor dead. People shout and cry, they free people and soon everyone crowds in the center of town.

People thank us for saving them. All of a sudden the leader of the town says: “Please, could I have Becky and Sarah come up?” We walk to the front of the crowd. Everybody falls silent. Then the leader speaks: “Tonight and forever I will thank Becky and Sarah for saving the town of Everly.” He hands us certificates of honor. The whole town erupts in cheers. The leader then says: “Without them the town of Everly could never have survived and neither could we. Let us dance in memory of this moment!”

Soon Becky and I are dancing. Today is a day I will remember forever, even after I die. I feel so happy in that moment. I hope that such a terrible thing will never happen again! Soon I am dancing on the floor with Becky. I will remember this forever and ever!

 

Halloween Story Contest #9

The Legend of the Wanderer and the Ghost of Paul Cuffee

By Camille Parker

            Under the dim moonlight on September 9, 1817, Paul Cuffee died in Westport, Massachusetts.  At the funeral, a man looked into the dark and spooky coffin that the famous whale ship captain Paul Cuffee  was lying.  While he was looking at him, his fingertips started to vanish.  After that, no one saw Paul Cuffee again until one dark and stormy night under a blue moon on the whale ship, the Wanderer which was anchored off the shore of Cutty Hunk Island.  One of the sailors swore that he saw something in the sky.  None of the other crew members believed the man.  When they all went to sleep on April 25, 1924, the night before the Wanderer sank, they heard a thumping coming from the storage area below deck where they kept the barrels of whale blubber.  All the crew members told the man who saw something in the sky to check what the dreadful ear pounding sound was.  As he walked down the ladder, the screeching sound kept getting louder and louder until he turned around and saw a green wisp and felt the goo of the wisp flowing down his arm.  He tried to go back up the ladder, but the crew members locked the hatch before he could come up to the deck.  As the man looked back again, the green wisp had turned into a green shape.  It was a great big ghost!  The face looked familiar.  It was the face he saw when he looked into the coffin of the famous whale ship captain, Paul Cuffee, who was born on January 17, 1759 on the island of Curry Hunk.  He screamed and frantically pounded on the hatch but no one opened it.  He started to panic!  He looked around him and realized that water was up to his ankles and was getting higher.  ”The great Wanderer must be sinking into the deep dark ocean!” he screamed.  He turned back and looked at the ghost who started to chant, “Get off my island!”  He decided to hide in an empty whale blubber barrel.  He seemed to be floating on top of the water.  All of a sudden, the ghost of Paul Cuffee went up to the hatch and cut the lock open and freed the man.  The reason why he wanted to free the man was because Paul’s father was stolen from Ghana, Africa at the age of ten and brought to the British colony of Massachusetts as a slave.  Paul Cuffee was very upset that his father was a slave, so he dedicated his life to equal rights and to freeing them.  Legend has it that under the light of a blue moon on Halloween you can see the reflection of the famous whale ship, the Wanderer and the ghost of Captain Paul Cuffee on the shoal off of Cutty Hunk Island.

 

Halloween Story Contest #10

The Halloween Party

By Faryn Leverone & Rachel Leverone

            At the Haunted Mansion, down Jackal Road–a gloomy road where the only birds that chirp are big, black, rotten-beaked crows that feed off of bones, close to where the Headless Horseman was known to show himself, a party was about to begin.

It was a dark, cloudy evening near Halloween. The Wolfman crawled out of his cave, scratched his ear and leapt up onto a nearby cliff. He was a kind and generous and forgiving creature, with fangs that can bite a finger off…but he only used them to trim his fingernails. He looked into the sky, took a deep breath in and howled at the shadow of the full moon, shining through the clouds. It was time for the Monster Mash Party.

At the sound of the howl, the zombies rose up from their graveyard beds. The gals had on some of their finest (and dirtiest) ripped dresses, while the guys threw on their best, torn shirts (also muddy) with bowties. They waddled like penguins and started to head towards the Haunted Mansion.

Two of the zombies, Leroy and Leonard, were always fighting about who the prettiest girl was in the graveyard. As they walked to the party, they were pushing and shoving each other to try and meet the girls. The girls were giggling as the two boys got closer, but it was really laughing out loud because they weren’t really interested and they thought that the boys were crazy.

The howling also got the attention of the 5 Widow Sisters. Black as night with bright blood red hourglasses on their stomachs, they (Ivy, Venom, Poison, Arachne, and Venpire) once were all in love with a wolf spider. It was his misfortune to be eaten by their mother, because she was sick of the girls’ fighting and pleading to go see him. But that is another story. The Sisters’ are notoriously known for their beauty as well as their bite. Men are enchanted by the girl’s hourglasses and try to kiss them as soon as they see them.

The Haunted Mansion looked like a dull, black, creepy Leaning Tower of Pisa. Inside, there were bats hanging from the ceiling holding haunted banners that screamed, “Happy Hallow’s Eve!” whenever somebody walked by them. Witches were riding their broomsticks around the inside walls, and were painting pumpkins like jack-o-lanterns with magical paint that allowed them to talk.

The Ghost Chef was busy preparing tasty treats for the monsters to enjoy. He was shouting at his help, “Hey, get back here! Get back to work!” as his Monkey (the help) ran away. He finally got a few skeletons to help serve snacks (they don’t eat much), and they were taken out of the giant tin oven and were placed on the floating black tables.

In the pitch-black room of the tower, Wolfman was trying to stop whimpering. He was the host of the party, and had a paw-written speech to say in front of everybody. The problem was, he had stage fright. “I don’t know what to do!” he cried.

Frankenstein heard him and yelled up the stairs, “Are you okay Wolfy? You are hosting this party right?”

“Y-y-y-es,” Wolfman replied in a shaky voice.

“Well then, I’d suggest you’d get down here now. Some guests are getting very impatient. The Widow Sisters are bragging about their beauty, Ghost Chef is tearing up his recipe book, and the zombies are starting to lose limbs on the dance floor!”

So Wolfman hurried down the stairs and jumped on the Grand Stage. He was excited, yet still nervous, and he held his paper in his claws. He started to read, “I hope you all enjoy this gathering that I designed, with the chef, especially for you. I wish you to all have an enjoyable time here. And I’ll let you know that the chocolate covered crickets are the most scrumptious things on the menu! Thank you for coming!” And then he howled and announced with delight, “Let the party begin!”

At that, the Skeletons turned on the smashing sounds of monster music. Ivy, the youngest of the Black Widows, crawled up to the ceiling and turned on the Full Moon Disco Ball. Frankenstein helped himself to the chocolate covered crickets that Wolfman had recommended, and the zombies kept on grooving. Even Wolfman started dancing and getting his “monster mash” on. Everyone was having a good time, or so it seemed.

Next door, in the Janitor’s Closet, a coffin was shaking. Count Dracula was trying to sleep-in. The day before, he’d had a daymare (which is a nightmare in vampire time) and was in need of a few extra winks. He began moaning and groaning when he heard the skeletons piping up the music. The sounds of dancing and fun agitated him, and he burst out of his cozy lounge and into the party.

“What’s going on here? I’m trying to sleep! I need my Zzzzzzz’s!” he shrieked.

“Dracula! It’s so nice to see you! Why don’t you join us?” said Wolfman.

The Black Widows chimed in, “Hey Handsome, come over here,” as they tried to show off their hourglasses.

Frankenstein offered him a piece of chocolate covered cricket, only slightly chewed on.

Dracula stood there still trying to wake up. After a few minutes he noticed that his foot was tapping to the beat of the music. He saw the decorations, and noticed all of his friends having fun. He grabbed the piece of cricket, strolled over to the Widows and asked them to dance. As he made his way to the dance floor he said, “I guess I’ll sleep when I’m dead. But wait! I already am!” And everyone had a good laugh at that.

The Monster Mash was a magnificent success and Dracula went to every party he was invited to from then on.

 

Halloween Story Contest #11

R.F. Knuckle

By Melonie L. Lefter

            He broke through the shards of sunlight with the front end of his pick-up truck and left a cloud of dirt dust in his wake. R.F. Knuckle was late. At least two hours late, maybe more. If this wasn’t the way to the job then he was just going to give up, try to salvage his broken phone and broken heart down at the Wisecracker.  R. F. never missed all you can eat wings night. Ever.

“Where the hell is this place?”

R.F. wanted to turn back but he wanted the money even more so he pressed on but slowly. Eventually, the trees broke.  A house came into view, it wasn’t quite as he thought the woman on the phone had described but it was a destination.  He bounced out of his truck, boots hitting the spongy moss that carpeted the ground.  He fixed his face with an apologetic expression and made his approach.

A light wind whispered through the leaves and just out of his field of vision a figure fluttered, a shape he couldn’t describe but did indeed try later when they pressed for information at the hospital.

A welcoming woman waved.

“Hellooo. I’m so glad you found us. Come in. Come in. Here is the list we discussed. There is food and beer in the fridge. Help yourself to whatever you like. I am just on my way out. There is a check on the counter and a little something extra for you.”

R.F.’s stress nearly evaporated. Why did he still feel slightly uneasy? He mentally chastised himself. Then he got to work. Four hours later, his industriousness was apparent. Cords from tools snaked into plugs and twisted into extension cords.  He was nearly finished so he rewarded himself with a sandwich he had brought from home and a beer from Mrs…miss?  What was her name again? R.F. decided it wasn’t important and returned to his truck to eat.  One sip of that beer seemed to have increased a minor headache into a major pain. The sandwich he made so deliciously for himself had no taste. He settled on the fact that lunch wasn’t worth the time and he would be better off finishing up and cleaning his mess.

A few more cuts with the saw. A few more nails with the gun. Then the strangest thing happened. A baby appeared. Well, more of a toddler really, but it was enough to make R.F. jump and then feel very uncomfortable.

“Hello. Where did you come from? What is your name? Does your mommy know you are here?”

The baby wasn’t talking. It stood and stared with big watery bulging eyes. It wobbled on its stubby chubby legs, hands shoved deep and squirming in its green Oshkosh B Gosh overalls.

Before all hell broke loose, the baby let out a drooling toothless giggle. R. F. would remember that chilling little chuckle for the rest of his life.

“Does your mommy know you’re here?” R. F . made one last pathetic try at communication. It was useless. The baby was on the move. First it went for the nail gun.

“Hee. Hee” Went the baby.

“Pop Pop Pop Pop.” Went the nail gun.

“AAAAHHHH” Went R.F.

The baby shot him over and over and over and over again. One nail pierced his palm, pinning him to the porch railing. Another struck his thigh just below his groin. Another caught his shoulder. More pops from the gun sounded. R.F. squirmed out of the range of fire as best as he could.

“You missed me brat!”

The baby grunted. Aimed. Fired. More nails sailed into R.F. striking his buttock and thighs. He desperately reached for the claw hammer to dig out the nail pinning him down. He started to work himself free. The agony of his injuries was beginning to sink in.  Why was it suddenly so quiet? Where had that baby gone?

The sound of the saw answered his questions. The panic set him moving. The baby was trying tip the saw over onto him!  R.F. worked that palm pinning nail out and fell out of the way of most of the danger.  Somehow he had gotten a black eye, he could feel that tell tale warm swelling bulging his cheek. Was he losing consciousness? Crawling to the truck, he noticed the baby had been busy. There were nails and tacks everywhere he tried to place a hand or a knee. When he made it to the safety of his cab, he looked back at the house.  The baby stood there in the middle of the chaos, waving.  R.F. pulled away full of pain and nails vowing never to return.

Later that evening at the Wisecracker Lounge…

“What happened to him?”

“He wouldn’t say. Just said to keep the chicken wings coming.”

 

Halloween Story Contest #12

The Bus Behind Turks

By Madison Pedro

            I have always wondered about the abandoned school bus behind Turk’ s Seafood in Mattapoisett, behind its cranberry bog. Why it never moved. How it even got there. As I was going for a walk to Shipyard Park, I over heard two men talking about a very intriguing story on the porch of the Mattapoisett Inn. Little did I know that not only did it answer the questions to my mystery, but it was also true. Here, let me tell you how it goes. Over fifty years ago there was a phsyco bus driver that decided to take the kids she was driving on….let’s just call it….a little swim. After she had picked up all of the kids, every each one of them dressed up in array of Halloween costumes, excited for Halloween at school, she got a devilish idea stuck in her head. The bus was just approaching Turk’s when unexpectedly, she swerved off the road and into the cranberry bog. Not only killing herself, but the other fifty kids on the bus as well. Everybody thought it was an accident, that she didn’t mean to harm everybody. They thought she was trying to avoid a different accident, but everything went haywire. Police carefully investigated the scene, but after days of endless searching, they were only able to recover the bus. No bodies. Now every Halloween when the fog slowly drifts over the cranberry bog the kid’s souls arise from the bog disguised as normal children, in casual Halloween costumes. They go from door to door just like you do, but they try to befriend you. They try to build up a sense of trust with you. Then they will tell you there is something amazing that they just have to show you. They will lure you to the cranberry bog, and claim your soul as revenge for the loss of their youth. I should know this to be true, because I was one of those kids. Lured away from the safety of my home. Lured away by someone I thought I could trust. Every year they lure more kids in to become one of them. So see you on Halloween.

 

Halloween Story Contest #13

Pumpkintown

By Emma Levasseur

            One crisp autumn day in Pumpkintown, Massachusetts a girl named Cassie Cavalier, who is nick named C.C. was playing on the monkey bars at school, fell, and broke her leg. It was almost Halloween and on every Halloween night bad creatures came and invaded Pumpkintown. All the kids in Pumpkintown could never go trick or treating or have a Halloween party because all the zombies, witches, ghosts, and bats invaded Pumpkintown every year. C.C. is nine years old and was wearing a big cast on her leg. Somehow she got locked out of the house because everyone was scared of all the bad creatures that were coming that night. It was getting dark and C.C. was looking for a place to hide, but couldnt find a hiding spot. It was dark and creatures came out. One of the zombies snatched C.C. before she could hide. C.C. was brought to their dark cave were they hide all year long and tied her up to a long pole. C.C. cried for help and she saw a spark of light and an angel appeared. The angel gave her two bags of magic dust and said, Listen carefully. Sprinkle some of the dust on yourself and you will be set free.Then she said, Sprinkle some dust on the bad creatures and it will make them good.The angel suddenly disappeared and C.C. followed the angels rules and did as she said. C.C. snuck up on all the bad creatures and sprinkled the magic dust just in time before they caught her. From that day on, everyone in Pumpkintown had parties and went trick or treating like every other town because C.C. saved the day.

*******

Once again we would like to thank all of those who submitted a scary story to our contest and help make this a fantastic Halloween season. The winner of this year’s contest is Melonie L. Lefter who won an iPad mini!

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