Writing Contest #1 - Halloween

[Jacelynne]

To put it simply:
Since Halloween is coming up, write a short story about Halloween. It can be realistic, fictional, non-fictional, or a Halloween romance if that's your thing. For stories, the minimum word count is 375.

Have fun!

It needs to be submitted by...

OCTOBER 30^TH[/U]

[**Miki**]

THE HALLOWEEN MURDER
by Miki
1,333 words

I’ve never really been fond of Halloween. The idea of dressing up in those silly costumes and going around in the dark of night to strangers’ houses to ask for candy never excited me. Perhaps I took after my father in that way. My dad, a specialist in dentistry, never liked Halloween or candy, either. On one particular Halloween, several years ago, events took place that have kept me from daring to even venture from my room on October 31.

I was only thirteen years old at the time, yet even now, almost fifteen years later, I can remember every detail, and each is still as vivid as it was then. It was a cold, wintry-like evening; the wind was blowing about and stinging any skin that showed its way through to the bitter air. There was no snow on the ground, but it almost looked like so as there was frost on everything.

My dad had been invited to a special party by one of his co-workers. I, being the good sister and daughter I was, offered to take my brother out trick-or-treating in his place so he could attend the party. Otherwise, he would have been the witness to the events that occurred. Maybe if he hadn’t gone to the party, things might have turned out differently. My mother had set out the wickedly smiling jack-o-lanterns on the porch steps already, each with a brightly lit candle inside, and had sorted through the candy she was to hand out to the trick-or-treaters who came to our doorstep, picking out the chocolates she liked to eat. My brother and I were out of the house once the clock stroke eight.

My brother was warmly clad in a dog costume. He was covered head-to-toe in a furry outfit complete with a fluffy tail and floppy dog ears. I, on the other hand, shivered underneath my light-weight jacket. My brother had insisted that I have a little Halloween spirit when I took him out, so I had decided to wear a witch’s pointy, black hat, and that would be all. I wish I had taken something that wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to the wind. The whole time I was forced to keep one hand on the brim of my hat in order to keep it from blowing away.

One house after another, we padded forward. It was the same routine at each house. Ring the doorbell, yell trick-or-treat, collect the candy, remind my brother to say thank you, and then we walked to the next house to repeat the process. I quickly got bored and kept asking my brother, “Brian, are you ready to go home yet?” Each time he answered that he just needed to visit a few more houses, and then he would have enough candy.

It wasn’t long before we were very far away from home. My hands were numb and I wished I could just throw that stupid hat into the gutter and go back. I could tell my brother was feeling pretty tired as well, but he refused to admit it and again told me he needed more candy before we could go back to our house.

At the last house of that street, a guy dressed all in black opened the door. Black shoes, black pants, a black leather jacket, a black hat, the guy even wore sunglasses! He looked like he could have come out of Bernie’s Insane Asylum. Brian, however, failed to notice this oddity, and continued on by saying, “Trick-or-treat!”

The man smiled at the two of us, but it wasn’t a warm, comforting smile. It was crooked and seemingly deformed. “Hello,” his voice was deep and loud. “Lucky for you two, I just finished my batch of candied apples.” My brother’s eyes went wide. He absolutely loved candied apples. “Why don’t you two come in away from Jack Frost and I’ll go get them from the kitchen while they’re still hot, eh?” Moving his broad self away from the doorway, you could see inside. A large, red fireplace was the first thing I saw. Its flames looked warm and welcoming. Not only that, but a large leather couch was placed near it, covered in blankets that looked like they were made of real animal fur. I only hesitated a second, and then I pushed my brother and myself in.

“Make yourselves feel at home. I’ll be back in one second.” He locked the door behind us with a strange key. Then he went into a hall and turned a corner. Once he had left, I ran to go sit by the fire. I pulled a blanket off the couch and wrapped it around me. I lay down and almost fell asleep when the boisterous sound of the man in black stirred me.

“Here they are.” Two candied apples were in one hand, a cup of hot chocolate in his other. Handing a candied apple and the cup of hot chocolate to me, and the other apple to my brother, he smiled crookedly at us. We smiled back. Everything was perfect until my brother took a bite of the apple. He chewed for a few seconds, then fell over, and closed his eyes.

“Poor little tyke,” the man in black said in response. "He must be so tired from walking all night." I stood up, ready to run to my brother, but the man had already picked up Brian and stroked his hair. “I’ll go give him a place to rest and I’ll be right back.” My heart thudded hard in my chest. I wanted to run to my brother, take him away from the large man, and run out the door, but my legs wouldn’t respond to my plea. The man disappeared around the corner once more.

I looked at the hot chocolate and candied apple in my hands, and absolutely disgusted, I threw them in the fire. I finally got my legs to work, and I desperately searched for a phone. Something was not right with this man. He was doing something to my brother, and I knew it. With no phone in sight, I tried the door. I failed to remember he had locked it after we came in. Finally, I gathered up my courage, ran into the hallway, and turned the corner.

I almost threw up at that moment. Bodies were everywhere. The room was supposed to be a kitchen, at least from what I could tell. But rather, it looked like a butcher shop. I wish not to go into too much detail, because it was an absolutely horrible sight. However, I must tell you that the room was filled with little kids. As small as two years old to as old as twelve years old, there were little fairy princesses to pirates to mummies to vampires. Each and every kid had a kitchen cleaver stuck through their chest into their hearts. Worst of all, there, in the center of the room was my own little brother. I screamed.

The man in black appeared out of nowhere, another kitchen cleaver in his hand, ready to strike. I ran. I didn’t know where I was headed. All I know is that I had to get away from this murderer. I jumped out a window and kept on running. I didn’t see where I was going, I lost my hat somewhere along the way, and from there the rest is a blur.

Really, all I remember is that the police appeared not soon after. I was questioned. I told them everything. I even described the gory scene inside the murderer’s kitchen. From what I’ve heard from my parents, they never found any bodies in the murderer’s house, but they did find some curious red stains. They haven’t even found my brother’s body yet. I cry for him and all the kids who were murdered that night. Eventually, I was placed here, in Bernie’s.

That’s my story. Nobody believes me. Do you?


((Blah, I don't know if this story is the greatest. I didn't spend a whole lot of time on it. If anyone would like to give me some feedback on my short story, it would be appreciated.))

[mick401]

Nice competition, it would be nice if you did this year too, because it's an interesting idea, it's a pity that so few people write