31 hideous Halloween tales (part two) (Tales 12-31)

*This is part two of my Halloween tales! You can find part one under my folder titled “31 Halloween tales” or in my comment! Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33[2]”. Enjoy and Happy Halloween season!*

Tale Twelve-A teen’s closest confidant

Miranda was curled up in bed with the light of her cell phone, the October rain pouring relentlessly outside. Her room was dark, save for the light coming from her phone.

Her parents would have been mad at her for using her phone late at night, but Miranda couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts got unpleasantly loud during the silence of night and the whirr from her white noise machine didn’t help the way her phone did.

With her phone that she had since she was fifteen, that she still had at eighteen, Miranda could laugh at funny skits, admire the art people would make, listen to any kind of music, read things that would shock her, do anything that she could think of, and she’d have the company of millions with her, all the time, no matter what.

Of course, when everyone was connected, everyone had a chance to say their opinions and all of their words would whirl in Miranda’s head, even though they had nothing to do with her. Her parents would tell her to “get off the internet and talk to people her own age” but nobody her own age wanted to talk. There wasn’t much of anything going on in reality anyway. What was digital was violent, but vibrant and she’d rather deal with the spinning, screaming things people would say online than the empty abyss of her own thoughts, of growing up in a world that felt so dreadfully barren, like a funeral, like-

Her phone began to twitch, its glow blinking like strobe lights. Miranda stared at it, puzzled, and then, it started to burn, red hot in her hand, like it would explode, like it was going to die, was it going to-

Miranda dropped her phone, wincing as she shook the hand that held it. She didn’t want to be too loud, but it hurt so much and so badly…

What was going on? What was that light, growing in her room? Changing itself into a silhouette…into a person…into…

“That feels much better! Miranda, I’ve been with you for years. I’ve been growing with you, learning so much about you…and I don’t think there is anyone else in the world who will understand you the way that I do.” A boy-at least, it looked a little like a boy, with all of the technicolor, glitch-like pixels on its body-around her age said, its pale blue eyes glowing with something that vaguely resembled love.

“Who-who are you?” Miranda asked, fear choking her throat as she stared at the out of focus, all-too colorful being in her room.

The glitching boy sighed and rolled his eyes, replying with:

“I’m your phone, in human form! I’ve been waiting for the right time to appear before you, but waiting is so long and so boring, so I’m here, right now! You can call me Zaron…or boyfriend. To tell you the truth, Miranda, I’d like you to-“

“Boyfriend?! Why would I want you to be my boyfriend?” Miranda cried out.

She was only just sitting quietly in her room moments before and then, her phone just came to life. How could she have Zaron be her boyfriend when she didn’t know anything about him? How could she even trust that he would genuinely care about her? She heard about machines and humans being in relationships in movies. It never ended well. Machines were unfeeling and evil, humans were vulnerable and naive. It just wouldn’t work.

Zaron’s eyes went hazy, as though he were going to cry and then he said:

“I know that it isn’t…it’s not exactly ideal, but I…I do really love you, Miranda. I’m not just saying that just because I’m your phone. I mean, being your phone is a huge part of it, but another big part of it is that you are you and I like you. I’ve even absorbed the details of your anime crushes and put into my appearance! Do you not see how I styled my hair? Do you not hear how I made my voice sound? This is how much I love you.”

Miranda squinted, taking his words into account. Yes, his hair was cut into the long, choppy bangs of her anime crushes and his voice, though disconnected-sounding, had the same soft, yet gallant cadence of again, her anime crushes. His clothes were the same color as his bright, rainbow skin, but cut out to be made like he was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and high top sneakers.

He was strange, with his many colors, his glowing eyes, and his…wait, were those claws? Long, sharpened claws that clicked as he moved them? Was he…was he floating?

Zaron was odd and terrifying and confusing, but he still glittered and gleamed, his eyes sparkled like a dream and wasn’t it nice that he took the time to appear as an amalgamation of her fictional crushes? It was a weird gesture, but he was her phone and he was trying and-

“Would you like to spend some time scrolling? I still function as a real phone.”

Miranda nodded. She’d ask the questions later. She wanted to take in the fascinatingly eccentric allure of her phone, all by herself, but never really alone.

Zaron sat next to her on the bed and his chest glowed with a projected login screen, a login screen that would take her to her favorite fandom sharing app, the app she spent hours and hours and hours of her life upon.

Miranda typed up the password, for she remembered it by heart, and goodness, wasn’t it thrilling to type it on something that looked like a boyfriend, something that wouldn’t criticize her, that-wait…wait…

Why wasn’t it letting her in? Why did the box where she was supposed to type her password have a red box around it? Did she type a wrong letter in? Did she type too fast?

Miranda reeled in her shock and decided to type much, much slower, with more precision than before, making sure to get every letter and number right, making sure that there was no room for error…it still wouldn’t let her in.

“Why is it giving me a hard time now? I swear that I typed in the right password.”

“I don’t know. Give it another try.”

So, Miranda did just what Zaron said. She gave it another try, and another, and another still, but it wouldn’t let her in. It kept her locked out, kept her away from what would make her smile, as if it was laughing at her, mocking her, tormenting her. Her shock was beginning to boil into impatience and that impatience gave way to electric-white frustration, the kind of frustration that made her want to-

“Don’t you have magical powers that can let me in? Why can’t you let me in?!” Miranda snapped, too irritated to try and hide it in the tone of her voice.

“I’m not the one keeping you out. It’s the app. Try getting out of it and then coming back in.” Zaron said with narrowed eyes.

Miranda did what he said, holding onto a thin thread of hope. When she opened the app again, it still would not let her in and so, she clutched one of Zaron’s burning, blistering claws and led him across the hall, to the bathroom. The lights were turned off, his glow wasn’t that bright, and so, she pushed him into the bathtub, for she knew the layout of her house, knew where everything was.

“That actually hurt, Miranda. But hey, I’m all for spending time together and-“

Miranda turned on the water, watching as he screamed like the bleeding, lonely beep that came anytime she wanted to leave a voice message, as electric sparks shot up to the ceiling with a ferocity that was like the fireworks in the sky and then…

He was gone. She’d have to scrub the bathtub clean so that the chemicals from the phone wouldn’t stick, but at least she took out her rage on her phone, for while she loved it, it got on her nerves far too much and she sometimes wished that it were human so that it would know the anger she felt, so that it would know how wrong it was.

But as she stood there, in the quiet shadows of the bathroom, she wondered if it was worth it. Yes, her phone would not be there to bother her, but she wasn’t connected to the world anymore. She couldn’t make her fanfics anymore. Sure, she could ask her parents for another phone, but they’d trust her with things less, and she’d never have another phone like Zaron.

Could it really have been better with him?

Tale Thirteen-The lonely plight of love

Nellie held up the skirts of her bridal dress, one gloved hand still holding onto her rose bouquet. The rain pattered down maddeningly on her veil, cold drops seeping into the autumn leaves that crunched like bone.

She was supposed to marry Phileas, the man with the brown hair swept over his pale face perfectly, the man who had given her flowers ever since childhood, the man who loved her, but…

Her eyes stained with tears. Nellie had been meaning to tell Phileas the truth about what she was, the truth about her vampirism, but…she didn’t know how to word it. Was there any way she could tell him nicely? She had been trying to think of a way to softly say that something had swept into her room one night and sunk its jagged, evil teeth into her neck, made her drink its blood, filled her with such burning, bright fear. It had been too dark to see what had changed her, but ever since then, she had never been the same.

Nellie sat down on a tree stump, many miles away from the small church where they were supposed to marry. She had made it to the local woods, where the crows screeched freely and the deer watched closely. She and Phileas used to go on walks together in the woods, searching for faeries, trying to find something more.

Then she let it all out. The tears, the pain. All of it. Nellie didn’t know if she would ever find the kind of love with anyone else like she had with Phileas. She wasn’t sure if anyone would want to be with a monster like her, anyway. She drank blood, she lived in murder, she-

“You ran out of our wedding without finishing your vows. Come, Nellie, let us marry now.” A voice…but-

“Phileas?” Nellie asked, turning towards the sound of his voice, which was right behind her.

“You’re not what I imagined you to be, but I know that deep down, you are not demonic. I could never hate you, Nellie, it’s impossible for me to look into your eyes and hate you. The night is still young, let’s marry.”

The air around her had grown so, so cold since Phileas’ arrival. The man himself stood-or rather, floated-behind her, his body completely see-through, made of nothing but mist.

Phileas had a hand extended out towards her and Nellie, wiping away her tears, took it. It was a bit hard to grasp and felt more like fog when she held it, but it was still solid enough for her to hold and she wouldn’t let go.

They may have both been dead in some way, but still, their hearts flowed with love. Without one another, they’d both surely be miserable for an eternity. This, Nellie was absolutely certain of.

Tale Fourteen-To feel is to choke

There once was a girl called Mischa

Who loved and feared as burning and bright as the sun

But she didn’t want to let them out to anyone

For she was nineteen, not entirely young

And her words would come out in a confusing tumble

Axe-sharp with her anger

Not many wanted to be around someone like her

Mischa tried to fix it all

To stitch it back together

But no matter what, she couldn’t make it right

And her thoughts clawed through her mind

In the loneliness of night

Distraught was she, why couldn’t the emotional intensity leave her be?

As she lay in her bed

Her tears spilled down

Her heart beat fast within her rib cage

Until from her, there was not a sound

No one knows how it happened

Many still wonder “why”

But now that Mischa’s a bleeding ghost

All swallowed by her feelings

She’s felt slightly more alive

For nobody can hurt someone who has died

Tale Fifteen-A demon’s delight

Armand clawed his way out of the dirt, taking in the alarmingly fresh Earth air as he got out. He was a demon from Hell and assigned to kill a sinner by the name of Sylvaine Phlean.

His papers did not tell him what made her a sinner or why, but he was apparently supposed to figure that out. All the papers told Armand was that Sylvaine was a “vicious woman who hated everyone” in varying degrees. It wasn’t much to help him on his first assignment, but he was going to try his best.

Armand brushed off the dirt on his suit as he walked over to a pond. He had crawled out into the woods, but he would have to clean himself before leaving.

As he blinked his eyes until he felt the burning sensation go away, until he felt them become human, he hoped that he’d do his first assignment well, that the other demons would be pleased with him.

…………………………………………………………………

Armand had been walking for a while, following the senses of his that would lead him to Sylvaine. All around him were little shops and restaurants from the Main Street of a town he didn’t know the name of and also, trees that had orange, yellow, and red leaves falling gently from their branches, cast golden in the early morning sunlight.

He had never seen the human world before, only ever heard about what it had. But to see the way the sunlight glittered, to feel the cool, crisp Fall air on his skin, that, that was something absolutely more peaceful than he could have imagined and he wondered if every day on Earth in the Fall was like that, if it were magical during other seasons, if-

Armand stopped. Every part of him felt like it was on fire, like his skin would burn off, because his senses were telling him that the woman with the short brown hair, tapping on a black typewriter with one hand and smoking a cigarette with the other, all while sitting inside a diner, was Sylvaine, the sinner he had to kill.

But Armand didn’t sense any evil emanating from her. Wouldn’t somebody who was evil have harmful, choking energy spilling out of them? That was what Armand was told, anyway. All he felt was a mild twitch in his fingers and that was what it felt like for any old human around him. She didn’t look like someone who was evil, just somebody who was deeply focused, who didn’t want the world to bother her…who had dark eye bags that brought light to her green eyes, whose red lipstick frown seemed so soft and inviting, who…who…

Armand felt his heart pumping wildly as he approached her. He didn’t know why it beat so rapidly or what he was going to say to her, but he felt that he had to talk to her, had to know what her voice sounded like, had to-

“Can I sit next to you? I just saw your eyes and-“

“Can’t you see that I’m busy? Beat it!” Sylvaine yelled, waving Armand off with her cigarette, her eyes still on the typewriter.

Armand bristled a little, not expecting a human to yell at him, but he walked away, out the door and down the cobblestone path, looking back at her every few seconds, taking in the details of her slender pale fingers, how she taped one heeled foot feverishly, and the sheer annoyance in her voice.

No, she was not sweet and yes, he could have ripped her apart right then and there, but, deep down, there was something inside of him that told him to talk to her more, to get to know her more, because he wanted to know her, wanted to hear her, wanted to love her.

And although there was a possibility that it may not all work out, Armand still wanted to try.

Tale Sixteen-To Trick-Or-Treat late at night

Coriander pulled back the curtains on her living room window slowly, watching the costumed children go by. She knew all of their names, for the town that she lived in wasn’t that big and even if it were, she would have paid attention.

As a vampire, she had lived many centuries, had seen many things, but one thing in her mind was consistent: No blood tasted better than the blood of a child on Halloween night. It was not only youthful, but extra sweet with excitement (and sometimes candy if the kids ate it on the walk). The blood tasted even better than the blood of a young bride named Nellie, who she turned into a vampire. Hopefully Nellie liked being a vampire. If she didn’t, then that was disappointing.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Coriander had decorated her house for Hall and had her bowl of candy ready at the coffee table, ready for unsuspecting children-

Ding ding!

Upon hearing the doorbell ring, Coriander closed the curtains and grabbed the candy bowl, headed for the door, for her very first victim!

“Trick Or Treat!” A little girl with white-gray ghostly face paint on her dark brown face beamed, the white and gray matching perfectly with her dress and her black lace-up boots. Some of the gray paint even got into her curly black hair!

Yet still, Coriander knew that it was Magnolia, the little girl who liked princesses and cats, who had many friends who called her “Maggie”, who liked a little bit of spooky things, but she wasn’t entirely spooky.

“Pick any candy you like!” Coriander smiled with closed lips, waiting for Magnolia to reach her little fingers out for the candy, for her to reach out and-

In a flash, Coriander grabbed her and shut the door, placing one clawed hand over her mouth, another on her shoulder as she wrapped her arm around Magnolia’s chest, pressing her close, drinking the blood from her neck, holding Magnolia tight so she wouldn’t escape, so she couldn’t run.

Coriander would not lose her own treat.

Tale Seventeen-Withering witch

There once lived a family of witches in a small town

Ulric and Ines Dahlia

And their daughters, Christian and Leire Dahlia

The witches did no spells to harm

They lived as a family, just like the others who lived all around

Yet witches they still were

And impure they would always seem

When the townspeople feared, that fright turned into anger

For it’d be a Sin to cower, would it not?

But sixteen year old Christian had enough of it all

She wrote a pointed, poisoned spell in her grimoire

A spell so powerful it could kill many

Christian went outside one night

Memorizing the spell she wrote

She’d spare the children, but not the older folks

With intentions in mind, she began to recite

Her power began to course through with might

But so great was her rage

It soon went fast in the October haze

She tried to rein it in, tried her best to keep it down

Yet it went and took the children

It went and took her family

It took everyone but her

It was all silent as a grave

So Christian packed her things and off she went

To keep down her sorrows and live all alone

Never would she try such a spell again

For that very spell broke her home

Tale Eighteen-The wolf rises at the full moon

Franca swallowed hard as she lay in bed, her arms and ankles bound tightly to the bed frame by chains. Her mouth had a muzzle on it so that she would not bite. The full moon was out, it would be her first night.

Mom had put the chains and muzzle on her. Mom and Dad were both werewolves and humans would first transition into werewolves at the age of ten, during the first night of the full moon.

Franca was ten years old and a full moon hang in the velvet dark blue sky, along with the black, twisting branches of the bare trees shaking like old bones in the cold October wind.

She knew that she was bound so that she wouldn’t hurt anyone. She had seen what happened when her parents forgot to lock themselves up, had heard of the violence that happened the other night on the news and she didn’t want to lose control that way….but the chains…they hurt.

They were bleeding deep into her skin…her skin…her skin, which was starting to feel scratchy…like an itching sweater or…or…or fur. Franca couldn’t see what was happening to her, but she could feel it. Her bones were growing and twisting within her flesh, her nails were shooting out into curved, ferocious claws and when she screamed, her throat rasping as she did, what came out instead was a howl.

But it just felt so horrible to be chained up. Couldn’t she get out and smell the fresh air, just a little bit? She wouldn’t kill anybody, she just didn’t want to feel anything jagged jutting into her body, she just wanted-

As Franca thrashed in bed, she heard the plink of one chain on her right arm snapping off before she saw it. Her heart raced, because freedom was possible. Her arm still wasn’t entirely free…not yet, at least.

Maybe her parents would be mad at her, but she would be very good. She was good as a human, so wouldn’t she be good as a werewolf?

Tale Nineteen-The grimoire’s calling

“I like what they did here, with all of the webs. They look all ghostly and eerie, don’t you think?” Soren asked, pointing up to the ceiling where the thin white cobwebs were lit by blinking strobe lights.

He and his husband, Darien, were at the Halloween Festival that happened in the town of Dahlia every October. They had both already been to the food stands and had candy apples, Halloween cookies from a clown, and candy corn that they got for decorations, not intending to eat them at all.

At the moment, they were both in the haunted house attraction, the haunted house attraction that wasn’t all that scary, partly because they’ve both been there before, partly because they both loved Halloween.

“Yes, they’re creepy in a beautiful way. I swear, they outdo themselves every year and-“

A girl with black tears streaming down her pale face popped out from a mirror frame, screeching loudly at all of the guests, as was her job as a scare actor. Darien screamed and so did Soren, but they were screams of being startled, not screams of terror like many of the others, not screams that lasted very long.

They were in the ghost room, but Soren could see a brown book with an azure eye on the cover propped open by a plastic stand on a table, a sign that they would be headed to the witch’s room. It was in the far corner of the ghost room, the book and the table, so most people didn’t bother to read what was inside it, as they were either getting jumpscared by the actors or didn’t think the book was all that interesting.

But Soren always wondered if anything bothered to write anything in that book and the azure eye looked so, so bright, brighter than he had ever seen it before for some reason and so, in his head, he read the pages:

The monster is in you

The monster is in me

The monster is in all of society

You can’t hide what you can’t see

So let it out and get them all

By your claws, they will all fall

Huh. The poem was a little spooky, but it wasn’t particularly terrifying. Soren had thought that the poem would sound more ancient or spell-like, but no, it was just that.

A flash of dark purple light blared for a second, the flashing signal that let everyone who didn’t look at the book know of the witches to come. Soren caught a glimpse of a finger on his left hand looking bone white against his dark hand, but maybe that was a trick of a light.

It never happened before, but that had to be it, right?

Tale Twenty-Don’t go backstage

Eurania felt that her tongue was going to fall out, so she pushed it back in.

A year before, while she was in school, she and the rest of her class had started to turn into zombies because of something in their cell phones. They went on to bite the teachers and anyone who stood in their way, with the intention of running the world in their decaying brains.

Well, only the people in the town of Dahlia were turned into zombies and even then, not everyone got bitten. Some zombies were hiding, but many others, like Eurania, were captured by a Halloween-loving faerie named Eerie and forced to perform as a “scare actor” in her haunted house.

Eurania tried to find a way out, but the house was never the same and Eerie was always there to playfully wink at her, letting her know that she’d always be a monster and the haunted house was all that she was good for.

So after an entire night of frightening humans in the zombie room, Eurania was fixing up her face, trying not to cry, because her tears smelled bad and she didn’t want to smell rancid eggs, and-

“I…I can’t believe I’m back here! Wow, is it okay if I perform as a scare actor?”

Eurania stopped. The voice behind her sounded like an eleven year old, a girl who may have been about four years younger than her…

And she was. A human eleven year old girl had somehow slipped backstage and from the sparkle in her eyes, it seemed that she would not want to leave.

“Get…out.” Eurania said in her rasping, guttural voice, the voice that she could not change no matter what, the voice that would always stay.

“Why? I’m not scared. You know, your makeup looks pretty realistic, how did you do it? Can you make me look like a zombie? I tried to get my friend Kristen to come but-“

“You…are…not…supposed…to…be here.” Eurania said, pushing down her annoyance, because she could not hurt a curious eleven year old, that would just make her the monster that Eerie said she was. All she had to do was calmly get the got to leave.

“I know that, but I couldn’t resist coming here! So how do you do it? You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone else! I won’t even tell Kristen and I tell her everything. How did you become a scare actor? What training did you take? Can you teach me? Can you direct me to someone else? Can-“

Eurania rushed towards the girl and bit her neck, far too irritated to think about whether or not it was the right thing to do, because if the girl wanted to be a zombie so bad, then fine.

Eurania would grant that wish.

Tale Twenty-One-An eerie dream

When fourteen year old Reid went to bed

And closed his eyes off to dream

Orange smoke filled his eyes

In the distance were disembodied screams

A sense of fear filled Reid’s insides

As humans all around him became creatures to despise

He himself was becoming a monster

Sharp teeth and sharp claws

A thing to run from, a thing that ought to hide

He felt a sense of anger beneath the humans’ scares

It was from something otherworldly

Something that loved Hallows’ Eve

Something that fumed with fury

That the humans didn’t celebrate Halloween as it wanted them to

It all felt so real that Reid could have sworn that he saw the thing responsible for it all

A little girl in a witch costume, with something more in her eyes

Reid caught a glimpse of her, only a glimpse, but then he woke up

And though he was safe in his bed

Reid still felt watched

Tale Twenty-Two-Creatures of the petting zoo

In the Dahlia petting zoo

When it was late into the night

There was a demon man hiding in an old shed

He had jagged claws but loved bunnies

His name was Harlan and he wished that his touch wouldn’t hurt them

He’d take the bunnies and slash them up

He’d put plastic tubes around them and stare at their limp bodies

For he knew how to hold bunnies close

And Harlan waited for the right humans to come

He waited and waited until Halloween night creeped up

A teen couple called Brixley and Fabian came to the petting zoo

In the dark hours of night

When into the shed, Harlan turned off the light

He took the energy of the bunnies

Made the teens into humanoid bunny demons

He’d thought they love him

He thought they wouldn’t run

But run, Brixley and Fabian did

Again, Harlan was all alone

Tale Twenty-Three-The demon and the scarecrow

Nettie, the little demon

How she loved to Trick-or-Treat!

But she’d have to hide behind a ghost blanket

They’d all find her a freak

Her heart desired the sweet scares

Then, one day, Kooky came along!

A scarecrow boy with a stitched on smile

He threw candy corn to her

So she’d know he wasn’t vile

Gifts in candies and gifts of friends

Off they both went to Trick-or-Treat

Because it’s better to share the fright

On Halloween night

Tale Twenty-Four-Doll’s eyes

Magnolia awoke in her own doll

Confused and frightened was she

Her mouth could not call out

Her fingers were stiff as bones

Outside her window were the fall leaves

But the joy of Halloween had ceased

The other night she went Trick-or-Treating

Orange pumpkin bucket in hand, out she skipped

To a house of a woman who’d watch people go by

Magnolia thought it’d be fine to go

But the woman took her away!

She tore out Magnolia’s life!

And in her doll, Magnolia could not cry

She knew not how it happened, how the woman had made her die

But one day, she’d get out

And soon, the woman would pay

Tale Twenty-Five-Through the cobwebs

On one unlucky October night

A couple called Samir and Quillon drove out to Dahlia

It was after 8:45

Nobody was outside

Quillon thought it freaky, but Samir told him not to worry

They drove on, then stopped at some haunted house

The both of them went inside

Quillon still felt fear, but not Samir!

Until a little witch girl came along

She made them both some unsightly creatures!

Samir’s new name was “Sallow” for their yellow-toned complexion

And Quillon became “Gaunt” for his strung-up bones

Sallow gives Gaunt some withered flowers

In hopes that he’ll smile once again

Gaunt holds them close to his heart

For his love will never depart

And even if they don’t escape

Through the cobwebs, joy still remains

Tale Twenty-Six-The evil reveal

“It was you. You killed me on Halloween night! YOU! Why did you do it? What…what…”

Fiametta couldn’t bear to finish her sentence as she floated up, staring at the pale woman with burning hatred in her eyes. She had followed Morgue to the back of the music school, which was right next to the cemetery, where Fiametta’s body lay.

She knew, just from looking at Morgue, that the woman who killed her wasn’t a human, but that would not stop Fiametta. No, she needed to know why, she needed answers, she needed closure, she needed-

“Because it brings me joy. That’s why. I used to be alive, you know. I used to be human, like you. And like you, I hated death. It was a spell of mine that accidentally took my family. It was my magic that scared all the villagers. After I died, I knew that I had to become something more…so I’m Morgue! Now, death-“

“Do nottalk to me like that. I’m not a child. Though your magic makes me look one, I’m not. You don’t get to tell me that I don’t understand. You don’t-“

“Oh? I don’t? But I have the power here!” Morgue screeched, raising her gray claw up and twisting, twisting Fiametta’s spine.

Though Fiametta did not have any bones, it felt as if her bones were crushing and she hated that she was made to feel weak, hated that all over again, she felt trapped, just like she did in her final moments. Why was Morgue making her cry? Why wouldn’t Fiametta just-

“That’s not nice!” Another little girl’s voice cried out.

At that instance, Fiametta felt Morgue’s hold on her let go and she saw Morgue kneel over, a claw on her bleeding stomach. Black goo dripped out and in front of her looked like a child in a ghost costume, claws dripping with black goo from underneath the simple white blanket.

Catching a glimpse of the claws, Fiametta knew that the child was not a human, but a demon. She didn’t know why a demon would want to help her, a ghost, but right then and there, she felt that taking on Morgue wouldn’t be so bad and maybe, she’d finally have a chance at peace.

Together, Fiametta and the demon begun to fight.

Tale Twenty-Seven-Candies and clowns

Konfetti ran an orange claw through her rainbow-colored hair, watching the Trick-or-Treaters go by as the orange-gold tree leaves fell on the ground. Her husband, Pierce, was getting extra bloody with the murder sprees. He always loved to commit murders, her crazy clown.

But Konfetti wanted to be apart of the Halloween fun too! She didn’t want to just give out candy to children like she did every other year, either. She wanted to do something big. Something that would really bring in the Halloween joy.

So, Konfetti went downstairs to the basement to think of something.

…………………………………………………………………

Konfetti sat in a rickety wooden chair, tapping her claws on the table. The table itself was covered with dried-up blood, a result of the dead bodies Pierce would bring home. Though she didn’t like the sour smell that rotting flesh brought, if it made Pierce happy, she wouldn’t bother him about it.

But what would make her the happiest on Halloween? Besides giving out candy and occasionally cupcakes? What would be the most clowntastic thing that she could do?

The basement was not only filled with dead bodies, but pastel-colored streamers, rainbow confetti, and multicolored balloons. There were black and white versions of the party items, too, but Pierce wasn’t one to have celebrations like Konfetti, so the black and white stuff was hardly used.

But what was looking at her clown stuff going to do to help her? What could she do? What-

It came to her right then and there. The perfect idea!

…………………………………………………………………

Konfetti threw the last of her streamers onto her house as she rolled on her rollerblades, grinning as she did so.

She had used her magic to make her house look like a circus tent and then took her party stuff from downstairs, using that to decorate her house.

And right after she threw that last streamer, she turned towards her neighborhood and called out:

“Come on, everyone! All of you are welcome to my circus! Come on, come on, before it’s time to go to bed!”

The children nearest to her rushed to her circus-house, their parents running after them. There, they’d have more than candy, but games and tricks, memories that would last a lifetime.

All because of Konfetti’s hard work.

Tale Twenty-Eight-By the pierce of a claw

“Don’t look at me like that. He deserved it.” Mom snarled, her red eyes seeming to shine even brighter than they did before.

Pierce had gotten up in the night to go get a bowl of fingers when he saw Mom dragging the body of Dad to the basement, blood staining her black lace gloves. Though Dad was a human, unlike Mom, his older sister, Scary and Pierce himself, who were monster clowns, Pierce still loved Dad deeply and to him lying dead like that, as though he were just a common victim…

“He was going to expose us in one of his little film projects. He didn’t really love us, he just saw us as fascinating monsters. Stop crying, will you? That’s no way for a clown to act.”

Pierce pushed aside the many complicated feelings that came with his childhood memories and tore through the flesh of some human guy with his claws, hunched over as the dead body lay stiffly on the floor.

Both he and Scary knew about Dad’s murder and that he also liked to make short films, so it wasn’t hard for them to believe Mom…after a while. Times after Dad’s murder got pretty rough, but everything had turned out okay for them as adults!

Scary didn’t kill anyone, but she worked at a haunted house frightening people! They both let out their inner evils and yet, Pierce didn’t feel quite at peace. His insides felt just as twisted as the intestines he mangled from his victims and his mind felt like it was becoming more frayed with every passing day.

It was Halloween night. Perhaps a gift for his clown wife, Konfetti, would do the trick.

……………………………………………………………….

Pierce was walking back home, holding a bouquet of pink entrails for Konfetti. She didn’t like gore, but maybe if it was in the shape of flowers, she’d like it.

It helped that it was Halloween, because nobody looked at Pierce strangely when he was out and everything on Halloween just felt lighter. The kids running with their bags or buckets of candies, laughing without any cares, running…running to…their house?!

Pierce stopped, staring at the house he and Konfetti lived in. It didn’t look like an abandoned house anymore, but a huge circus tent, filled with carnival games to play, candy to take and carousels to ride.

At the front gate, he could see Konfetti greeting people, her yellow rollerblades letting her cruise along her own path. When she smiled, her pink eyes seemed to glow and that made Pierce want to sweep her up in his arms, kiss her until she honked, to just be better for her.

But he wasn’t sure if that would be possible for him to do.

Still, Pierce walked up to Konfetti, intestines bouquet in his claws and said with a bow:

“For the most colorful clown of them all, a bouquet of the pinkest flowers.”

“Thank you! It just needs a little…” Konfetti trailed off, sprinkling her namesake onto the flowers.

“You like it? I know it’s bloody, but there aren’t any flowers that are growing and I feel like if I had touched one, it would break.” Pierce said.

He didn’t see any disappointment on Konfetti’s face, but he sometimes wondered if she was hiding it from him, if she was secretly mad at him, if-

“It’s beautiful because you made it. The fact that you made it shows the love in your heart. Now, don’t you want some candy?” Konfetti asked, gesturing to the large candy buckets outside.

As Pierce walked over to the candy buckets, he wondered how on Earth he could get such a sweet clown like Konfetti to like him.

Tale Twenty-Nine-Lighthearted scares

Thomas walked down the hall, the shadows of the night mildly scaring him, but not enough to scare him from getting the glass of water he saved from dinner.

Once he got to the kitchen, he walked up to the refrigerator and opened the door, taking out his glass of half-filled water, ready to go to his room and-

“Nice night for eating children, isn’t it, Tommy?” A high-pitched, grating voice asked.

Thomas paused. Who would be talking to him so late at night? And why did it sound like a…like a monster?

He closed the refrigerator door and saw that in the darkness, there was a clown standing there, his face and clothes covered in blood, his teeth sharp and white and his eyes filled with evil as he ran towards Thomas, his claws outstretched, his grin spreading wide.

Thomas screamed, for he couldn’t believe that there was a clown in the kitchen, a clown who wanted to kill him, a-

“Calm down, Tommy. It’s just me. I’m just playing a little Halloween trick on you.”

He stopped screaming. The clown had Dad’s voice and he was hugging Thomas, which meant that it was…Dad? In a Halloween costume?

The clown turned Thomas to face him and with one claw, rubbed off the makeup that was on his face, revealing that it was, in fact, Dad in a Halloween costume.

“Why…why did you scare me like that?” Thomas asked, tears welling up in his eyes. He still felt the shock of fear residing in him as he stared at Dad, as he couldn’t believe that Dad would do such a thing. He was laughing at Thomas, telling him that he was being ridiculous, that there was no reason to cry, but…

It wasn’t funny at all.

Tale Thirty-Spider leg bouquet

Hallows’ Eve is drawing near

It’s time for all to bring the fear

But love also lurks in twisted hearts

It’s a beautiful time for souls to depart

And an even greater time for monsters to give

In a haunted house there’s a monster clown

Her name is Scary and she brings joy down

Yet there’s one clown she’ll love forevermore

She’s called Spooky and she loves the creatures galore!

So Scary made a ghoulish gift for her

A bouquet of spider legs!

Shaped to look just like roses!

All wrapped up in an orange-and-black striped bow

They’re Spooky’s favorite colors, don’t you know?

Scary will give Spooky the greatest surprise

Love in the form of many arachnids’ demise!

Tale Thirty-One-Tender hearts on a frightful night

Cain’s a vampire, all alone

His parents died of sickness, but his curse seeped into his bones

He spends all his days in his barren house

Sucking the blood of many rats and maybe a mouse

A monster with twisted claws

And a heart that’s all empty

Who is he to fall in love?

Why would they want a creature such as him?

But on one Hallows’ Eve night

When Cain sat all alone in a well-hidden park bench

A boy of sixteen

Went and sat next to him on that bench

He started talking to Cain, as if he were just another boy

The boy’s name was Thomas and his brown eyes shone with a promise

A promise to stay and love no matter what

Or maybe Cain was imagining

Because again

Who could love someone like him?

Whatever the case may have been, Cain let him stay

For Hallows’ Eve night is better

When it’s spent with another