Hell-O-Ween

Narrations Here
I’ve been told that my sense of humour is ‘macabre’. It’s not unfamiliar to me to be described by others as ‘off putting’, but I’ve never really put much stock in what other people say. It’s obvious that the vast majority of people are so deeply troubled by what everyone else thinks of them, that they’re inhibited from being their true selves. It’s really rather pathetic if you ask me.
My girlfriend, Jess, broke up with me recently. She said that I’m “Emotionally unavailable…” and that I “..need to learn more empathy.” I knew I didn’t want to be with her too much longer, she was fun sometimes, but more often than not lately, quite a bore.
Coming home from school about a week ago, along with a few friends of ours, we stumbled across a dying bird, it looked like its wing had been pretty grievously injured. After a time wasting deliberation of “Who’s going to take it home?” and rolling excuses as to why no one could, I put it out of its misery with a nearby rock. Jess cried. Like a pathetic child. She even called me a psychopath. Thankfully she didn’t cry when she broke up with me, and it meant I was free just in time for Halloween. 
Everyone now seems to be fussing about costumes, desperate social proclivities, and what party they want to go to. I’m tired of these vapid fools I call my friends, so caught up in their futile social dilemmas, but they still amuse me. I’m not sure if other people feel the way I do, and everyone’s just acting, or if I’m really just different from everyone else. 
Halloween night. Time to put on a mask. At least for once it’s a physical one, allowing me to hide my contempt for all the rambunctious idiots my age, without needing to strain my facial muscles.
It was a strangely warm night, it had been cool so far all autumn. I assume this drastic change in temperature is what caused the thick fog to blanket the town. Aleswell was prone to dramatic Halloweens, both through the mercurial weather, and the people.
“Let’s do some trick-or-treating on the way down!” I heard one of my bonehead cohorts say. It must have been Bryan, he's obsessed with everything Halloween, despite being a coward.
“That’s an awesome idea dude, free candy, wild parties, dudes and chicks in skimpy clothes, what’s not to LOVE about Halloween!?!” Dave said unmistakably. He always was a think-with-his-crotch kind of guy.
“What a childish waste of time, let’s just go,” I stated plainly. 
“C’mon Walt, it could be fun… Plus, I want to see you showing off that costume of yours…” Dave’s sister, Velma, was known to be pretty flirtatious. She’d be a pretty easy sell to hook up with, and to ruin Jess’ night. It was also hard to deny that I looked damn good in the wendigo costume Bryan made, it definitely showed off my physique.
“Alright, let’s make it quick though” I conceded.
The doorbell was massive and ornate. The house looked pretty out of place too. It had huge gothic windows, and a towering turret jutting archaically out of the top. We’d all been to Jess’ place before, but we’d always come from the main street. It was seldom that we would traverse the suburban cesspool that was her neighbourhood.
 *DING DONG* 
The doorbell sounded like a death knell. The door slowly opened.
“What can I do for you, young ones?” The owner of the house definitely had a flare for dramatics, but damn if I couldn’t admit that she was sexy as hell. Definitely dressed like a witch, but something you’d expect to see at a college party. She couldn’t have been much older than us. As all of us guys stared blankly at her, our attention was snapped-to by Velma loudly clearing her throat.
“Trick-or-treat!” she blustered loudly.
“I’ve got something extra special for you kids…” The witch grinned coyly as she held out a small sack filled with gummies.
“Thanks miss!” Velma belted out, far too loud for the quiet of the situation. The witch closed the door while letting out a sultry giggle.
“THAT is what Halloween’s all about!!!” Dave exclaimed. We all couldn’t help but nod, I was kind of surprised that Dave was that into it, I was pretty sure he was gay. We continued on our journey to the party.
The silent trotting of our feet on the leaf-clad ground was cut short by Dave.
“Do you think these are drugs?”
“What? No, she seemed so sweet!” Velma protested.
“Sweet? Really? She was the stereotype of a frightful wicked witch if I’ve ever seen one!” Bryan retorted.
“Yeah, a wicked witch with long legs, voluptuous lips, and a figure that would make an hourglass jealous…” I heard 3 sets of footsteps cease behind me as soon as I finished speaking. Did I say something out of place..? I’d been getting better at knowing when I’d upset people…
“That was a man, man!” Dave said, in his worst Austin Powers imitation. Everyone looked dumbfounded. 
“Dave, what did she look like to you?” Bryan asked soberly.
“She was a he, but damn, did he look good in drag…”
“Velma, what about you?”
“She was a sweet and kind old lady, kind of like grandma, Dave!” Dave raised his eyebrows and shook his head with disgust and confusion in equal parts.
“I saw a truly horrific looking witch. Long warty nose, missing teeth, greenish skin. I swear I even heard a cauldron bubbling in there somewhere!”
We all looked at each other suspiciously, before looking at the sack of gummies with even more trepidation.
“Did everyone eat the gummies already?” I asked. Everyone nodded. “You guys have no restraint…” Velma started freaking out. 
“Throw them away! We have no idea what she drugged us with!!!”
I grabbed the gummies from Dave and threw them to the side of the road nonchalantly. “I’m sure they’re fine. Worst case scenario, this party’s going to be a hell of a lot more interesting.”
As we kept walking toward Jess’ I looked back toward the witch’s house, but there was no sign of it. No eerie glow, no towering turret, no nothing. I shrugged it off and kept walking. 
We arrived at Jess’ place after a few more minutes of walking. None of us were feeling funny from the gummies, so far as I could tell. 
The party was definitely pretty crazy, people were drinking on the porch and lawn. You could occasionally see flashes and hear the booms of fireworks going off. I figured it probably wouldn’t be too long before the cops showed up. I grabbed two beers from a case on the porch, and thrust one into Velma’s hand.
“You’re eager tonight, ain’tcha?” She blushed as she popped off the cap with the butt of a lighter. I checked her out, bottom to top lingering at her chest, before giving her a wink. As we entered the house, it was plain to see it was even worse than I’d first thought. The door was barely hanging on it’s hinges and all the furniture in the living room was in even worse shape. People were hobbling around like animals, it was as if they were all hardcore role playing as whatever their costumes were. I swear I saw a guy dressed as a zombie eating an arm. Somehow, he made it look pretty good.
We split up once we got inside. Velma was already getting a lot of attention. She was dressed as a skimpy she-devil, or maybe a succubus? I’m not that sure what it was and I don’t think she was either. Bryan was obsessed with Halloween, and trying to find anyone who could appreciate his werewolf costume. He always hand made his costumes with meticulous detail. Dave was Austin Powers, sort of. In reality he just put on those gross fake teeth, glasses, and a tacky suit.
I made my way down into the basement, where we used to hang out whenever Jess’ parents were home. It smelled terrible. There were a couple of girls I recognized from school who were standing around a cauldron, dressed as witches, of course. What was really peculiar is that the cauldron actually had a small makeshift fire under it, and the fluid inside was actually bubbling. It struck me that everyone here was incredibly committed to their costumes and playing the role. As I turned to go back up the stairs, some jackass dressed as a zombie, limping down the stairs kept trying to push me back down.
“I’m so cold… so hungry…” He mumbled as he kept trying to get close to me. I shoved him back, then he started trying to bite me. We struggled for a bit until I pushed him against the wall. He went limp as his head hit the brick. He fell like a ragdoll down the stairs. For a second I was concerned. Not that I had hurt him, but that someone had seen. I looked back down at the witches, but they didn’t seem to care.
Annoyed by the inconvenience of that zombie jackass, I made my way back up to the living room, the situation was even more excessive than before. I saw a guy dressed in a cheesy frilly suit laying on the floor, with a guy dressed as a werewolf biting at his limp corpse. I looked closely and realized it was Bryan, only it wasn’t. He was truly a werewolf. The victim underneath could only have been Dave. I recognized the low-effort costume. It became painfully obvious that something beyond rational explanation was going on here. I started looking around for Velma when I noticed something sinister sitting on the only intact chair in the center of the room. A small ornate sack, nearly empty, of strange looking gummies. I felt a pit grow in my stomach, and a chill crawl down my spine.
A guy dressed as a knight was thrown hurtling from the doorway of the kitchen. As he laid reeling on the ground, another knight walked up, and ceremoniously plunged his sword into the other knight’s chest. Screw my friends, I had to get out of here! I fought through the crowds of ghouls and zombies, skeletons and witches until I made it to the porch. I took a deep breath of the cool autumn air. It was only now that I realized how terribly that witch’s brew had been stinking up the house. I heard what sounded like heavy panting and crying from around the corner of the house. My curiosity got the better of me. What I saw was some cowboy, barely conscious, underneath Velma, who was grinding her hips against his like a pornstar. It was kind of gross, honestly. She looked over at me, panting heavily. Sweat dripped down her now crimson skin, tears in her yellow eyes. 
“Stop me, please!”
I suppose that's the closest I’ve ever felt to empathy. Jess would have been proud, I thought smugly. I really did want to help her, but I was too disgusted to touch her. I stumbled back, and ran to the road.
I started to feel that same turning in my stomach again, this time, I was able to recognize it as hunger. It was a strange feeling of insatiety, a craving for something I’ve never known. I felt my muscles tighten, as I fitted the papier mache elk skull mask even tighter over my face. Down the street I saw a few children, trick-or-treating. I had to see if they had changed too. I started after them quickly. One of the three looked back, then said something to her friends. They picked up their pace. I began to jog. They began to run. I could see their tiny legs racing desperately, it was as pitiful as it was exciting. I saw them toss their candy buckets, and half filled pillow cases aside as they desperately tried to flee. The chase was on.
A blur of motion, a cacophony of sound. Screams, squeals, then gurgles. I could feel the soft warm flesh, malleable between my fingers, as prey in the talons of a raptor. The coppery smell of blood, the squelching of gore between my teeth. I fed the hunger I’d never known, I released the true me that had ached to be uninhibited and it was ravenous. Yet, I was discerning. This meat was as fine as the most expensive veal money could buy. Their eyeballs like Coffin Bay king oysters. Soft and juicy. I left the stomach untouched, as well as many organs. The prime, most decadent cuts were from the cheeks, thighs, and rump. Truly little more than a mangled mess was left. 
I regained a semblance of rational thought as I towered above the mangled scene of butchered youth. What have I done? What if I was caught? I needed to leave them, I couldn't risk trying to take one with me, but the hunger persisted. I hesitated, then realized what better night to stalk the streets for another tender morsel, what better night to get away with being drenched in blood, coated in gore and revel in it? I needed to take advantage. Who knows if or when I would get a chance to be this free again. My mind faded into a blur. Nothing was real but the hunt.
I wake to a dastardly ringing. My cell phone. As I silence it, I realize I’m in my bed, at home. I was alone.
Once more it rings, I know it won't be the last time. I start to rouse from what feels like the deepest sleep I’ve ever had. Was it all a dream? Is this what it’s like to have a nightmare? I’m soaking wet. Hard to tell if it was sweat, or if I’d pissed myself. Small rays of early dawn’s light savagely pierce any slit through my blackout curtains that they can find. 
The phone still rings. I feel bloated, somewhat nauseated. The idea of eating human flesh, the flesh of a child, was disgusting. Taboo, even to my rational mind.
The phone continues to ring.
“What!?” I yelled into the receiver, hoping my anger would easily be conveyed.
“Dude, what happened to you last night?” It was Bryan, the wolfman. “The party was just getting started, and you took off.”
“Of course I left, things were getting… weird…” I considered how much I should let on that I remembered. I still couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just a nightmare.
“Yeah, well, we’re all still here man. The cops showed up, or rather, someone called them. Someone’s dead, people have been walking past him all night thinking he was just hammered. Cops think he slipped and hit his head, fell down the stairs to the basement.”
“Why are you calling me then, I left early.”
“The cops want everyone who was at the party , but left, to come back. Listen, there’s more…” Bryan began to stutter. He always stuttered when he was scared, which was often. “They found children not far from Jess’ place. Brutally murdered. Dozens dude, throughout the neighbourhood.” 
I walk over to the window and pull the blinds open. In the naked light of day, I could see my bed soaked in blood. I race to the bathroom, I have to see if I’m still the monster from last night. I can faintly hear Bryan yelling from the cell phone laying on the bloody bed in the other room.
No claws, no excessive musculature, no elk skull. Just a lot of blood. I still couldn’t be sure if I wasn’t seeing a monster in the mirror…
“Yo! Dude! Are you there?” Bryan really never knew when to quit. I pick up the phone.
“What happened with the costumes last night Bryan. What about the gummies, what did we do?”
“You’re kidding right? As soon as that old lady gave us the gummies, we threw them out. Don’t eat open candy, that’s rule #1 of Halloween…” 
Something isn’t right here. 
“...about the costumes, you refused to wear one. ‘Costumes are for children and quarry.’ It was a weird thing to say, but you say weird shit all the time. Listen, I just gave the cops your address, they’re on their way...” 
I hung up the phone and walked over to the window. I'm scared. Not about what I may have done, but about what I may never be able to do again. That feeling is back, raging in the pit of my stomach. I can see a group of children walking down the street. My mouth waters. I don’t know how much time I have, but I won’t go down hungry...
Category:Halloween
Category:Mental Illness
Category:Monsters
Category:Tewahway
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