Games

It's time for the second story for the blog! This time I have a treat even better than the first story, and one with a little more bite! A great friend of mine whom I actually met through our RP shenanigans, Alex, was so excited when I asked if she had a piece to submit for the blog it was freaking palpable through my iPad screen. The lovely Miss Alex doesn't write formally, but has a huge knack for changing hair colors depending on her mood and adding new Harry Potter related tattoos to her body. Which I highly approve of. Nonetheless! I present to you her short story, appropriately titled Games.

Games

​“Blue? Or green?”
​“Neither. Red.”
​“I don’t own red.”
​“Well, get red. That way the blood won’t stain too bad. You know, when he murders you.”
​I rolled my eyes at Molly, still holding up the blue top, “That is not an encouraging option. The only murdering that will be done tonight is by me. To you. Because you aren’t helping.”
​“He’s been here for over 2 months already, hasn’t expressed any interest in anybody, and then all of a sudden, its, ‘Hey, A.J., let me take you on a date. On Halloween. And I won’t tell you where we’re going. Because I’m completely normal,’” Molly said, throwing me a black dress.
​I shot a quick smile at her, “Black?”
​“It matches your hat.”
​“What hat?”
​Molly pointed to the pointed witch’s hat on the top shelf of my closet, “It’s Halloween.”
 
​In a town as small as Dover, when a new kid shows up to school that wasn’t there last year, people notice. And when that new kid is also very good-looking, people notice even more. And when that new kid doesn’t notice back, well…
​He’s on top of the world.
​Conrad was desirable. He was a loner. He had been in school for over 3 months already and no one ever saw him with friends, girls, or anyone. He would go to class, do his work, and then drive off on his motorbike at the end of the day, never looking back.
​He was perfect. Two days ago, he had come up to me in front of my locker, and asked me if I wanted to go out with him Halloween night. Considering my original plans didn't involve anything nearly as good-looking as he (and considering he was Conrad), I said yes, upon which he promised to pick me up at midnight.
​So, maybe he was a little creepy. And weird. But aren't we all?
​Which was why I was standing outside my house at the stroke of 12 O’ Clock, wearing my black dress and a witches hat. Molly had a point. It was Halloween.
 
​“Where are we going?”
​“You’ll see,” Conrad replied with a nervous grin, not taking his eyes off the road. He had shown up in a low-key black car, dressed head to toe in black- including his black cape. He had complimented me on my hat, and ushered me in the car…
​Where I had been for the last hour.
​“A hint?” I asked politely.
​“Shh,” was his response.
​He hadn’t talked about himself since we got in the car, instead firing question after question about me. Did I always live in Dover? What did I do for fun? What kind of music did I like? What was my family like? Where did I want to go to college?
​But whenever I asked him a question, he would just look at me with flashing eyes and smile that wicked smile, and then completely ignore my question.
​I didn’t stop zoning out until I felt the car slow. We were pulling into a dimly lit parking lot. I recognized where we were.
​“Conrad, Funville has been closed for years. It’s completely deserted,” I warned him.
​He flashed me another smile and pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocking the gates and leading me through.
​“It is Halloween,” he said.
 
​Funville Amusement Park had been a small amusement park a few towns over from Dover. It brought tourists from all over the country and boosted the economy for all the surrounding area. In 1965, a freak accident caused the park to close its doors forever. A wire had slipped from a ride, and somehow ended up decapitating a young girl. Her parents sued Funville for everything they had, and Funville had been closed ever since. There were rumors that the little girl still haunted the fairgrounds, but I didn’t believe any of it. I wasn’t into ghost stories.
 
​“How do you have a key?” I asked Conrad, trying to lengthen my strides to keep up with him. He was making his way towards the decrepit looking carousel. This was the strangest date I had ever been on.
​He didn’t answer me, not like I expected him to. The question was merely a formality, rhetorical, something to fill the silence as he maneuvered through the grounds deftly, leaving me to trip and stumble in my heels. The outfit looked cute, but it wasn't meant to be worn while trekking through a creepy fairground in the middle of the night.
​The carousel was still mostly intact, with only a few horses missing. The paint was peeling, and the wood was splintering, but you could still imagine what it looked like it all it's glory.
​Conrad had lit a few candles and poured two glasses of what looked like champagne.
​“Sparkling cider,” he answered my questioning gaze.
​I clinked his glass with mine and took a tentative sip.
​One sip was all it took- things started getting fuzzy and I felt as if the carousel was moving, faster and faster. My lips tried to form words but could only part.
​“Come find me,” I thought I heard Conrad say, but by that time I had fallen back on to the spinning machine.
​Fuck, my mind screamed at me before I lost conscienceness.
 
​When I opened my eyes, the carousel had stopped moving. I took a shaking breath and sat up slowly, rubbing my head. A light throb was making its presence known at the back of my skull, and my mouth was really dry, but other than that I felt normal.
​“Are you here to play with me?”
​I glanced up, straight into the eyes of a carousel horse. It snorted at me and tossed its head before shifting its position to reveal it's rider- a little girl of about 7, with large dark eyes and black hair.
​I was still trying to grasp the concept that she was on a moving pastel pink horse.
​“What?” I managed to croak out.
​She pursed her lips impatiently, “I said, are you here to play with me?”
​“What? Where is Conrad? I came here with...” I tried to formulate a complete sentence.
​“Conrad?” the girl asked, her eyes lighting up, “Conrad has been so good to me. If he brought you here, you must be mine to play with!”
​“Who are you?”
​She jumped down from her carousel horse, but her feet didn't make a noise when they touched the ground. As she stepped closer to me, I could see she was vaguely transparent.
​“I'm sorry, how rude of me. My name is Cassandra and this is where I live. Now, what would you like to play first? Hide-and-Seek is really fun here, but I also like the games on the other side of the park. Oh, and then we could always race the horses, but I've been doing that all morning,” the little girl said to me, holding her hand out to help me stand.
​I tried to let her grab my hand, but mine went right through hers, in a cold rush.
​“Darn it,” Cassandra muttered, putting her hands on her hips and looking at me. Suddenly, her eyes were as cold as her hand.
​“I guess we don't have a lot of time to play,” Cassandra said sadly, “So we'll just have to play Hide-and-Seek.”
​“I don't want to play, I want-” I started, but Cassandra cut me off.
​“You have until the sun rises,” the little girl told me, but she didn't sound like a little girl any more, “to hide from me. If the sun rises and I haven't found you, well...”
​She giggled.
​“...that's never happened. When I find you, I eat you. I'll count to 100.”
​“Wait!” I shouted. What the hell was going on?
​“Conrad is Home Free!” Cassandra called back at me, before fading into the darkness surrounding the carousel.
​Great. Because I knew where Conrad was. Right. I was completely alone in a creepy abandoned park with a creepy ghost who just threatened to eat me. Perfect first date.
 
​I had been “playing” for a little over an hour, if that's what you could call it. Cassandra had been toying with me all night. The gates Conrad had taken me into were locked, with no chance of me climbing out. Every time I thought I had found a good hiding place, I'd hear faint laughter, too close for comfort, and I'd have to move, quick, before she caught up. She knew exactly where I was at all times, and was letting me run around like a cat would a mouse before the cat devoured it.
​I was the mouse.
​It was half an hour 'til sunrise. I knew Cassandra was getting impatient- I could feel it in the air, in the way that static seemed to jump from my skin to my surroundings. She would pounce sometime soon, and then that was it. I would be just another one of the girls who disappeared on Halloween night.
​I felt a warm breeze on the back of my neck and bolted for the Fun House. She was making her move now. Her laughter followed me through the maze of mirrors; one wrong turn and I was a goner. I sprinted down a hallway that seemed to get smaller the longer I traveled through it. Suddenly, I heard a snarl from behind me, and I ran into something solid and warm.
​A scream finally found its way out of me and I shrieked like I had never before.
​“Shh,” warm words found their way to my ears, “Home Free.”
 
​Conrad let me back to the front gates, gripping my shivering body.
​“She's been keeping my family hostage for the past 3 months. She told me that if I didn't bring her someone on Halloween, she would kill them all. I...I'm so sorry. But she wasn't expecting me to be listening to her as she talked to you. All she had told me was that I had to make myself hidden while you two were playing, but I heard her tell you I was Home Free. I just waited for the right time to reveal myself. Right when she was close, because she can't go back on her word. I read that about vengeful spirits,” Conrad was doing more talking now than when he had all night.
​When safely out of the gates, he spun me towards him and stared straight into my eyes. I stared at his full lips.
​“No one is getting eaten tonight,” he whispered, and closed the space between us, kissing me softly.
​“Oh?” I asked, and sank my fangs into his flesh and devoured him.
​From behind the gates, Cassandra pouted.
​I dropped Conrad's lifeless body on the ground in front of me, wiping the mess from my mouth.
​“Better luck next year.”
​I said I didn't believe in ghost stories. Monsters in the closet, however...

 
 

Black Wings

It's time to start the story shenanigans today! The first story of the blog is one from yours truly, and we'll just call it a light warm-up compared to the rest of the awesome stories that'll be coming your way over the next 12 days! Enjoy!


Black Wings

“Alice! I thought I told you to make tea,” Miranda Annalese stood at the frame of the door, hands on the hips of her frumpy, slightly moth-eaten dress. “I swear, you get to be like your mother with each passing day. Skittish, forgetful wretch…”

Alice glanced up, the small leather-bound novel held gingerly in her hands. In her truthfulness, Alice hadn’t heard anything her aunt had said since she’d touched the book in her hands. She’d gotten lost in the tale of fairies, blackened forests, and forbidden kisses that rose goose bumps on her arms. Glancing up to her aunt’s expectant glare, Alice smoothed her face out, placing the expressionless mask she knew so well in place to please her aunt.

“Apologies, Aunt Miranda,” Alice whispered as she stood, bowing her head slightly as she dipped down with her skirts held at her sides. It always had to be prim and proper, nothing less.

Miranda waved a hand dismissively, adjusting her glasses. “It’s quite alright, darling. Let’s go,” her gloved hand hung out toward Alice.

Alice hesitated, eyes scanning the room for a bookmark to keep the story where she left off.

“Could I have a moment, Aunt Miranda? I’d like to organize my mess.” Her hand swept the room, showing the random strewing of books she’d left in her wake.

“Humph, yes, yes, but hurry. The ladies will be here any moment, and I do not wish to stall them on their tea simply because my niece is lost in her fantasies. Women should not read; it gives them ideas that cannot be reached,” Miranda made a disgusted face at the book nearest her, flicking it with her hand. Turning, she left, the door quietly snapping shut behind her.

Alice counted to five before she sighed, setting the little book back on the shelf where she’d first discovered it. As she turned, she paused at the frostbitten window, soft petals of snow drifting onto the ground. She pressed a palm against the chilled glass, gazing out the window without truly seeing.

“Maybe if you thought for yourself once in your life, Aunt Miranda, you’d see how much we can reach,” she whispered, nibbling on her lower lip as she struggled not to cry. It wasn’t fair to be confined to tea parties and corsets, bearing children and housekeeping. Just once in her life she wished she could do something wild, something that didn’t stay within the limits of what was expected of women. Her eyes turned to the trees, watching as their limbs became coated in the translucent ice.

Her eyes narrowed between the trees as something moved. It was soft, almost too subtle to be noticed. Alice pressed closer to the glass, tempted to open the window and peer further.

He looked nothing short of a god, standing in the snow with nothing but a pair of trousers chopped off at the knees. His skin looked unimaginably pale, a milky ivory that reminded Alice of honeysuckle. His hair was short, wind-ridden, and dark, like his eyes. Yet something about him made her think of the porcelain dolls she owned, something gave her the impression that he was fragile.

He turned his eyes up towards the heavens, two black figures spreading from his back. Alice gasped, staggering back from the window. She grasped onto the chair, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“Wings!” She half-screamed, her voice echoing off the walls and into the distance as the door opened behind her.

“Alice!” Miranda had returned, perhaps angrier than before. “What have you been up to? Everyone is waiting on you, and you play these ridiculous games by hiding up here-“

“He had wings!” Alice turned to her aunt, grabbing onto her arm. “I swear it, Aunt Miranda, he had black wings as dark as the devil himself!”

Miranda stepped back, shaking Alice off her arm. She regarded her for a good, long moment. “Are you feeling alright, child? You have been reading far, far too much. Come now, a good round of needlework will fix your head right.”

But Alice had already turned back to the window, pressing against it as she searched for the dark angel. Her eyes narrowed on a figure on the ground in the snow, the small heap quiet, lifeless.

“Aunt Miranda, there’s a man down there in the snow,” Alice breathed, not daring to tear her eyes away from the window. What if the body vanished, too?

She heard footsteps approach her side, a firm grip taking hold of her wrist. “Now see here, child, I will not stand for this behavior. You will come down this instant and-“

“Will you look out the damned window?” Alice yelled, taking both by surprise. She’d never cursed, not once in her entire life. To curse in front of a guardian was stepping into the first ring of hell barefoot. Miranda, still too shocked to administer punishment, turned to the window, squinting at first, then letting her eyes widen like Alice’s had moments ago.

“Heaven almighty, there’s a body out there. Alice, call the police, quickly,” Miranda turned to face Alice, watching her niece shake her head.

“No, he needs help now. You call,” Alice turned and swiped her coat off the coat rack by the door, draping her shoulders as she pushed past the maid and ran through the open promenade door. Her boots trudged through the deepening snow, the hem of her skirts dampening with each passing second she spent in the bitter cold. Her heart was pounding viciously in her chest, threatening to drown out every other thought as she approached the motionless body lying facedown in the snow.

“Hello?” Alice called to the man lying in the snow, slowing her run to a trot, stopping as she stood with her toes touching the body. “Hello?” She reached out, her gloved hands shaking terribly. With all the force her light form could muster, she pressed into the body, turning it over and screaming in shock as a pair of lifeless, clouded eyes met hers.

the secret's out! we're live!

Phew! Well, hello there everyone! Yes, the title does not lie; the Halloween Short Story blog is finally up and ready to run! 

I do have to say first that I am sorry for the delay. I blame a terrible combination of caffeine and  technical difficulties. Don't worry, though, I promise I got 95% of the kinks out today. 

What is this blog, you ask? It's a short and fun little thing I chose to put together for my personal favorite holiday- Halloween! Come on, who doesn't like to dress up, get free candy, and go all out in weird make-up and extra decor around the house. During October you can totally neglect to clean and just say you're 'creating an atmosphere' for Halloween! Okay, maybe I'm the only one who uses that excuse, but still. 

For the next 13 lovely days leading up to the big night, I will be posting short story segments from a collection of authors and writers, all of whom were more than happy to pitch in and submit a little story for the sake of getting into the 'spirit' of things! 

We hope you're ready- tomorrow's first post will be from me. And here's a hint on what to expect; feathers from your back is most certainly not a normal thing.