Trick or Treat Night, 113 Terror Lane
So far your quest has been fairly uneventful, nothing really
scary has happened and you have collected quite a few goodies. In fact, your trick-or-treat
bag is getting rather heavy; your shoulder is beginning to ache beneath its weight.
If I thought for a moment that you would listen to me, I would advise you to consider
skipping the next address on your list, THIS address. However, I know better and
so I will not bother wasting my breath.
It is greed, after all, which causes you to continue,
you just can't wait to see what other goodies you can collect before the moon
fully sets. So far you've gotten a hand full of sweeties and assorted chocolates,
a bag of pumpkin cookies, a pile of spell books, an encyclopedia (blah), and
a jar of flies.
As you round the corner, you see a beautiful
Victorian house, with a few ghosts floating in the yard before it. There are
jack-o-lanterns in the windows and the porch light is on, inviting you to trick
or treat. The address is 115 Terror Lane, but wait, that address is not on your
list. How can that be? This is the next house on the block, you haven't missed
any, or have you? You turn around slowly, looking back at the door you passed
casually by just a few moments ago. It is then you notice the mail box sitting
before it. Its mouth hanging open, half off its hinge. You had missed it on
your first passage, having been blocked by a large old leafless oak, an owl
adorning its branches. As you peer up at the owl you notice the clouds beginning
to float across the moon, slowly blackening out the night sky. In the fading
moonlight you read the address scrawled upon it, 113 Terror Lane.
You look around in disbelief, and with a deep
breath you slowly approach the door. With the exception of its open mouthed
mailbox this door stands alone in its frame. There seems to be no house attached,
but how can that be? You step behind the door, but see nothing. Not even the
door itself. Stepping back toward the front, the blood drains from your face
as you notice the sign written in an unmistakable red liquid upon the door.
It instructs you to "knock three times."
You reach out with a shaky hand and knock as
quietly as you can, secretly hoping that it will go unanswered. To your great
dismay, beneath the light weight of your knock the door opens ever so slightly,
in doing so, emitting an ear piercing squeal. A sudden shiver runs down your
spine, causing a tingling sensation which extends clear through to your fingers
and toes. Suddenly, you hear an eerie scream from deep within.
Clutching your master's hand, you muster all
of your strength, all of your reserve, and call out in a strong decisive voice
"trick or treat." A gruff voice from within says "Come in young lad, come have
a seat here beside me," but you find you cannot move, your feet suddenly frozen
to the ground. The house is humongous. A 5 ft wide set of plush red carpeted
stairs spirals upward to the second floor. You see an image on the balcony,
it is faint and floating. You cannot determine what it is however, and in a
moment it is gone, seeming to have simply disappeared.
Your master gives you a slight push forward,
encouraging you to proceed inward. A few paces into the room on your right and
you are now in the dining room. A candle lit chandelier hangs above the dining
room table; the flickering throws a barrage of eerie shadows across the table.
Sitting before you in a chair is a grarrl, teeth bared. The table before him
has place settings for eight, but only one has been utilized thus far. You glance
back to your master, but find that you are alone, well almost.
"Care to join me?" he asks. Not waiting for an
answer he picks up a small bell calling in the servant. As the door swings closed
behind him you see someone, or something, locked into a set of stocks with chains,
you catch but a glimpse, but are certain one leg is missing. You watch as the
door swings once more and shudder as you see blood oozing from the victims stump,
the leg bones lying devoid of any remaining meat lying in front of the grarrl.
The servant sets a platter down before you, promptly
removing the elegantly engraved dome covering. Your eyes grow wide in disbelief
as you see the bloody foot that was once attached to the thing chained in the
stocks, lying on your platter. Without your knowledge, a warm liquid runs down
your inner leg, he smiles. "Sorry, but I hate all those small bones. And I find
there just isn't enough meat on the feet to satisfy my hunger," he says grinning.
Still to terrified to move or utter a sound,
you notice movement in a bowl beside him. He sees your gaze, follows it, and
as if to answer your question, reaches in plucking out a few of the items. Like
one would a hand full of peanuts, he tosses them into his mouth a few at a time.
You swear you can hear the crunching of the bones, or can you? A smile breaches
across his lips. Mustering all of your strength, you repeat your phrase in what
comes out as a small timid voice "trick or treat," he smiles picking up the
bowl and holds it out before you. You reach in, but his gaze holds your attention,
you feel things wiggling but dare not look to see what you have retrieved as
your eyes remain locked on his.
Suddenly a hand grabs hold of your ankle, you
scream like you never have before. You fall backward kicking and screaming,
slipping in your own fluid, dropping several items from your bag in the process.
The grarrl breaks out into hysterical laughter as you reach out to grab your
candy eyeballs, peanut butter spiders and spooky donuts. You hear another eerie
scream from somewhere else within the house, or was that you? It matters not,
for it is the sudden rush of adrenaline which gets you to your feet and out
You slam the door shut tight behind you separating
you from the evil within, but it remains unlatched, positioned for the next
victim. While you have dropped a few of your goodies in the house, you have
also collected a few. More calmly now you pluck the newly acquired creatures,
off of your store bought costume and drop them into your bag. Your master beside
you once again you erupt into a grand story of your adventure within that door
without a house. Peering into your bag you realize that this fright just may
have been worth it, and then again perhaps not. For what you see are a Little
Frankie, a Walking Carpet, and Mummy quite happily eating the treats you'd collected
up to this point. Wow. What more could you ask for? Your very own petpets, three
of them! Who cares if they're eating your treats, just wait till they hear about
this tomorrow at neoschool! Sealing up your trick or treat bag up, you take
your masters hand and squeeze tightly.
"Did you have a good time in there?" he asks
having noted your wet knickers.
"Yes I did, lookie what I got!" you respond excitedly
having already forgotten what just happened.
But before you can show him, he says, "show me
when we get home, we have to get you changed."
"Changed?" you think. "Changed for what?"
He smiles, but says nothing, instead he simply
puts his arm around your shoulder, and begins leading you back home.