Happy Halloween
By Angel of Death
The smell of cigarette smoke caressed my nose, making me sigh. This was the heaven that I've been waiting all day to experience. Freedom. No annoying customers or lights to make my head pound. It was just me and the burning tar falling to the ground. The wind combed through the trees, sounding like a woman's screams. Closing my eyes, I took in the soft dance of the rain across the pavement. The heavy footsteps of children high on candy. The steady beating of my heart as I sat there, staring at the back of my eyelids.
"Trick or Treat!" a small, shrill voice said. In front of me stood a little girl with porcelain skin and brown pigtails. She was wearing a pumpkin suit and a guy standing behind her was holding his pail out to me. His eyes were wide and purple underneath. I felt sorry for the bloke. I'd rather be home drinking a cold one, instead of chauffeuring a child on All Hallows Eve. I never celebrated the holiday. Usually, I'd be shut up in my house with the lights turned off. But today was different. My body ached for fresh air, so I gave it what it yearned. Now, I have to tell every little candy corn infested tot that I don't have anything to give them. They all look at me weirdly, and the parents cry silently because they know they won't hear the end of it.
"Come on, mister." she said, pouting. Her cheeks were blooming roses in the cold air. The way her eyes lit up reminded me of Melinda. Every time she talked about something, she'd get so enthusiastic. Her whole face would shine as bright as a Jack 'o' lantern. Smiling, I blew out some smoke and looked at the kid.
"Sorry, I don't have any candy for you dear." I said, softly.
"No candy? But it's Halloween." she whined, her teeth, which weren't even all in, showing. Little kids need carrots and peas, not chocolates and candy corn. Candy corn. Melinda liked candy corn. It was her favorite treat in the whole world. She liked all the flavors they had, especially the caramel apple.
"Come on Sally." the guy murmured. He showed little interest in this whole institution. Running a hand through his black hair he took the child's hand and tugged her along. She whined all the way down the street.
*
I tossed and turned in my sleep. Sweat trickled down my face, covering my neck and staining my shirt. Glasses lined my nightstand. All contained water which I had to continuously chug because it was so hot. My heart was beating erratically and the pain of the headache I had at work, returned. Sitting up, I felt around for the lamp and pulled the string. Nothing happened. No yellow light illuminated the room and the usual red glare of the clock remained black. There was a low bump and then a high pitched laugh rang through the house. I stood up, my feet automatically carrying me over to the dresser where I kept the flashlights. Grabbing one, I walked out of my room and looked down the steps. The door was ajar. Cold air rain up the steps, making goosebumps rise on my skin.
"Who's there?" I asked, firmly. There was no answer. If there was no electricity then there was no way I could call the police. My heart trying harder and harder to force itself out of my chest, I made my way to the first floor. The steps creaked. Now my intruders knew that I was aware of their presence.
"Who's there?" I repeated, hoping for an answer. Again, nothing. I was at the bottom of the stairs now, my feet were sinking into the plush tan carpet.
"Peter!" a voice said. It was low and raspy and it sounded as if it had just rose from the dead. I was an avid smoker but my voice never sounded that ghastly. Turning around, I stared into the darkness searching for any sign of movement. The door was right in front of me, all I had to do was leave but...I couldn't. I was transfixed by something that hid from my eyes in the shadows. Its eyes were a bright green and they glowed with a fiery intensity.
"Peter, I'm home." it said, coming closer to me. Soon I could feel a hot breath on my neck. It sent razor sharp chills down my spine, making me run for the door. But it was too late. The door slammed shut.
"You can't run from me Peter."
"Who are you?" I asked.
Suddenly a bright pale light surged through the house. Eyes were staring down at me. Eyes that were dead and emotionless. A burning sensation paralyzed my body, making me scream. It felt like flames were ripping through my veins. Where was my house? I was no longer standing there looking off into the dark shadows, now I was in room with strange medical instruments. People with masks on their faces circled around, looking at me.
"I am your creator, Peter." a voice said.
"My who?"
"Please, Frankenstein don't worry. You're safe."
Confused, I started to sit up but it was if chains were holding me down. Blood-curdling yells were pouring out of my lips. The team of doctor like people left me. The one who said he was my creator, stared at me and said:
"Happy Halloween" and then there was darkness.
