Halloween is the best time for treats, costumes, and stories. But wait who can tell if they’re just stories? Why do some stories feel so real?
The dog’s aghast barks startled her from sleep. Lights out, sluggishly, she made her way to the hall. The lofty wooden console featuring the grandfather clock, frozen at 3 am, saw the timorous dog mourning it. ‘Go back to sleep, wafer‘ the dog undeterred laid there, mourning.
That night, something was not right; her usually squeaky-clean home redolence putrid, grubby. Reckoning, she made her way towards the bathroom, which was even more melodious. Reflection in the mirror could hardly be seen in the gloom. Splashing water, she sensed something, someone.
The mirror showed an obscure figure behind her. Terrified, she turned back; no one. But she could hear the breathing, which was not hers. Aghast, she ran to her room, under her bed, and could feel something behind, wafers, eyes wide open in shock, laying still, dead.
It must be a nightmare, she esteemed. And the wardrobe creaked open wide. A pair of eyes, red as fire, gazed upon her and burned her inside. She was sweating like a furnace and gasped for water. And in an instant, two bony hands were on her throat, choking her to her gruesome death…
The bed clock shows October 31st, 2.55 am; Halloween strikes, and Wafer mourns. Marlin wakes up with a jolt, sweating, and drinks water.
The telephone ring alarms her – “Hey mom, I’m coming home,” said the receiver Janet, her daughter who couldn’t survive a car accident a year ago.
Something was wrong, or she was hallucinating. Muddled, she went to the bar. The three bellows of the grandfather clock astounded her. It was 3 am on Halloween! Which brought with it an unusual sedentary feel, slaying the clock and aggrandizing the malodors. The door knocks, ‘who can it be at this time of the night?’ She opens to tabulate, and an unaccustomed breeze slaps her face, making her wobbly down her knees.
‘Wafer, come here, boy, treat.’ Maybe her consolation; her favorite; chips would do good, she esteemed. A cold gust blew through her, and she smelt a strange musky perfume, strong, so strong as if the one wearing it was standing next to her. Then it was gone like a snatch of smoke whipped away by the wind. She glanced around, wondering where it came from, then picked up the heavy cauldron and poured oil onto the stove.
It happened quickly! That was just a jerk; the boiler became weightless for a moment as she picked it up, sheared away from the stove, and turned it upside down, dumping all of the scalding hot oil straight on the wafer. She heard the howl, almost before she realized what had happened before the hot metal banged into her legs before she even felt the sting of the scalding oil on her own legs. The dog fell sideways, rolled on its back, twitching, and steam rose around it. Its howl constricted into a tight screeching scream.
Marlin dropped to her knees to help it and it twisted its head, bared its teeth, and bit her hand; savagely. Then it slithered a few feet across the carpet on its belly. Tried to stand and fell, howling, sapping at one of its legs. It rubbed its face on the carpet and most of the skin of its nose came off. The poor dog rolled in agony. Thrashing one way then the other; frothing, steam rising from its coat. After tedious crucifying, the dog embraced its passage.
No! He did not deserve this end. It was not me. I can never do this to wafer ever!
The cold solid gust slapped her, burning her within. A distant tune could be heard for some time now, which was not from the house.
But the basement. Yes! The basement, she was by now out of gallant to bill what it was. Tardily, she reached the stairs which led to the basement.
The cellar door was open; she slid in and saw a candle burning. An ancient candle, she doesn’t know who lit it; it was not hers. The tune that brought her was stout here. She heard the cellar door opening; creaks of the stairs could be heard.
“Who is it?” She sensed being stared upon.
At the corner of the cellar, an obscure figure, a pair of horns on its top, was gazing at her.
Marlin felt a twitch on her leg. It was a wafer. He’s alive! Dropping to her knees to get him destroyed, her – eyes popped out, mouth wide open, staring at her. A hand rested on her shoulder. It can’t be possible! She screamed. Janet was there; eyes popped out; mouth wide open. Staring.
The cold gust slapped her strong; Unbeknownst, Marlin picked up the candle and flared her gown. Before she could apprehend what had happened, she was on fire. Howling. Twitching. Screaming. The fire engulfed her, blazing up the skin, all teeth showing up, bones gnarled up. Laggardly, all of the house at the end of 5th avenue was on fire; ashen. Gone.
The vengeance was even now. They had paid the price for their barbarism of living above the realm of Satan.
Have a great Halloween.