Good morning! Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend. Any nightmares? Strange sounds in the dark?
First, I want to give a shout out to my friend Rena Olsen whose short story is up on the Pen and Muse blog as part of their Haunted House Writer’s and Illustrators’ Showcase. Go read it here. Ghosts can heal as well as scare the bejeezus out of you! I know, crazy…
Now onto the October #EverydayIsHalloween fun! Go check out the Midnight Society blog for a list of words here and join in the pic or story-a-day challenge.
The word of the day is favorite. What does that mean?
What ever I want.
Soooo… my favorite part of Halloween. There are lots. Wandering the sidewalks with the trick-or-treaters, the costumes, the sound of the leaves skittering across the street. But one of my most favorite things is the decorations. I love the houses featuring flashing lights and scary music, you know, the ones where their front yards have been transformed into graveyards.
When I lived in town, when I had trick-or-treaters come to my house, I had one of those houses, the one the kids hesitated to climb the porch stairs. I loved every second. Out here in the country, sadly there are no costumed kiddies looking for candy, but I still decorate. With all that in mind let’s embark on a journey, I dedicate this tale of Halloween décor to my dad, the king of Halloween, the master of terrorizing children on the block every October 31st.
I fear that all is not well on this Halloween…
Preparations for Terror
I open the lid of the box, revealing my treasure. My fingers trace empty eye sockets of skulls. Holding one in my hand, I inspect the paint job. A bit of black, brown, a splash of red, and a dash of yellow ochre have transformed the plastic form into a remnant of the grave. One by one, I set grinning skulls along the sidewalk and across the porch, watching, guarding for one night, the night of fear, ghosts, and demons.
Bones rattle in a bag as I pull it from the box. I assemble the skeleton with care, hooking his arms and legs firmly in their sockets and making sure he is comfortably seated in the wicker chair. My stomach quivers with joy as his head shifts and his fingers move as if to stroke my arm.
I place my hand on his shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze before setting him back into place. “Let me finish my work.”
Strobe lights. Black lights. Spider webs. My mind ripples with anticipation of the screaming the night will bring.
I settle the thirteenth tombstone into place, transforming my unassuming front yard into a place of terror. My heart pounds with excitement as fogs drifts through the scene.
“It’s nearly ready,” I bounce on my toes. “One final touch.” I race to the shed and wheel out the coffin, setting it in its place of honor. The lid creaks open. Bony fingers slide out into the fading light.
I push them back in. “Shhhh, my lovely. Not yet, but soon.” I gaze along the empty street, at the houses where hundreds of children wait for the trick-or-treating to begin. “They will come soon.”
A word of advice… don’t visit that house on Halloween.
And I apologize for taking so long, but my daughter and her friend waved Harry Potter Clue in my face and I couldn’t resist.
Until tomorrow! Keep your eyes open for anything odd. O.O