Halloween Special
Gary looked up from the TV just in time to see his son come out from his room for what was probably the fifth time that day to stare intently at him. He supposed this was some sort of new-age method of showing disapproval. He had to admit, it was a little unnerving, but someone had to be the disciplinarian.
“Ryan, I know you’re bored but you’re grounded for good reason and you know it. Just because it’s Halloween tonight doesn’t mean you can go around egging and TPing people’s houses, especially not poor old Mr. Quille. You know that he can’t get around so easily anymore.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever you say dad.”
Gary heard the sounds of shuffling feet and the slamming of a door. He sighed again.
Shaking his head to himself, he was about to turn his attention back to his programme only to be distracted by a stab of light coming from the table.
He turned, annoyed, to the source, only to find himself staring at a book. He looked quizzically at it for a moment, before abruptly recalling it was a gift from Mr. Quille from when he had gone over to talk about Ryan’s atrocious behaviour. ‘No hard feelings,’ as the man himself had put it. It was a sleek, leather-bound volume that seemed to be coated in some sort of reflective black material. He had never seen a book so… shiny before. Hell, it was probably brighter than his car parked alongside the sidewalk. Curious, he picked it up and was taken aback by how heavy it was. It felt nice though, as he weighed it in his palms, smooth and luxurious. He searched the cover for the title but could only make out the embossed shape of a ghost, the kind of shapeless blob malls usually sold during this time of year as a decoration. It looked amateurish compared to the rest of the item but somehow he couldn’t help but feel drawn by it.
He caught himself staring into the circles which represented the eyes for a bit too long before he realised he was sitting ramrod straight and the hairs on his arms were standing on end. He chuckled nervously to himself as he looked around the room but he was alone, naturally. A book of ghost stories it seemed, he used to devour these as a kid. Maybe Mr. Quille had thought Ryan would enjoy reading through them, though why he would think that, Gary couldn’t say. He cracked it open to reveal brand new, bone-white pages. He paused, up till now he had assumed that it had been an old possession of Mr. Quille’s, maybe some relic from his childhood. Yet, everything seemed to be pointing to the contrary. With his curiosity mounting, he settled down for a good read. He turned and plumped up the cushions, figuring he’d flip through a story or two. He flicked the pages at random, as images, clearer and more vibrant than he had ever envisioned began to form in his mind…
Blood Ties
The package on the doorstep was soft and shapeless but Saul still couldn’t help but feel threatened by it. It didn’t make any sense, the amount of anxiety he felt towards this inanimate object. No label, no card. Just plain, waxy, brown paper. He didn’t know why he felt so worried, it was probably a gift from a friend, or perhaps some long-lost family member?
He pondered still, for a few minutes more, wondering why he was wondering so much about it, before finally gritting his teeth and ripping open the wrapping. He stared at the contents for a moment before bursting out in laughter at his own foolishness. The package he had been so worried about simply contained some pieces of what looked to be a formal suit. A… very expensive one at that. The strange, unsettling feeling crept in again. He shook his head, he wondered what his forefathers would have thought of him, losing his mind over clothing of all things. Saul did his best to maintain his composure as he unfolded it, holding it up against his own body. Whoever sent this package definitely seemed to know him. If he didn’t know any better he’d have said it was tailor-made for him but that was a ridiculous idea, wasn’t it?
He tried the shirt on first, marvelling at the smooth, buttery feel of the fabric. He relished the effortless way his knuckles slid along the length of the sleeve, so flawless was the craftsmanship. If it didn’t feel so good to wear it, he might have been more creeped out by how well it wrapped around him, how nicely it sat on his chest and shoulders. He struck a pose in front of the mirror, smiling in spite of himself. Did he look paler than usual? Maybe he hadn’t been getting enough sun lately. He shuddered at the thought.
The rest of the suit was just as exquisite, if not more. With each new article of clothing, Saul could feel his incredulity and enjoyment growing in equal parts. Whatever suspicions he had had evaporated as he savoured the act of dressing himself. He felt, no, he knew he was irresistible in all this finery. Dressed like this, he’d be able to charm the pants off of anyone, everyone. He stopped to take a look at himself in the mirror again, taking a moment to fish his heavy pocket watch out of the vest. He smiled to himself as he checked his timing, he still had it… though what exactly he still had he couldn’t remember for the life of him. He didn’t know why such a thought had popped into his head, unbidden. He looked good no doubt but for the barest moment, he thought he had seen his face turn mean, the shadow of a split-second sneer. What was scarier was how he could feel some part of him was wishing for it to come back. He stared intently at his reflection in a mix of fear and reverence, almost daring it to act before him. It was only when he felt his gaze begin to blur until he could barely see anything anymore that he blinked himself back to reality.
At last, came the tie. He picked it up and let it flow across his open palm, admiring the red and gold fabric. It felt so small in his beefy hands. He hadn’t realised before today how built up he was but now he relished it, rolling his haunches as he appreciated his own width. Apparently sometimes a perfectly tailored suit helped you to appreciate yourself better, who could have guessed? He certainly knew he’d never be able to wear anything else after today, the material fit him as snugly as a second skin, made him feel powerful, in control. He wrapped it around his neck, letting it hang loosely over his frame. Bringing his hands up, he knotted it in one swift, practiced motion. So mesmerised was he with his own appearance, he barely even registered that his hands seemed to be moving of their own accord, tightening the knot until it felt like it was biting into his soft exposed neck. His eyelids drooped down, and then, darkness.
Saul laid on the floor for a few moments, blinking. He sat up and gave himself a once over, then did so a second time but he knew he’d be alright, he was himself now. He stood and looked at the mirror, smirking as he did so. No reflection, but he’d expected as much. He rolled his shoulders, and once again, ran his hands along the fabric, feeling his clothes, feeling himself. He ran his newly claimed tongue over his teeth, noting that they still retained the familial sharpness.
It had been a long time since he had last fed. People generally didn’t respond well to his kind. He couldn’t blame them for driving him out of town and threatening to burn his estate. But that didn’t matter now. He had done what was necessary to survive. Anyone who might have known him was long dead by now and people in general had long forgotten that creatures like him even existed. The paperwork would arrive soon enough, for the great-grandson who shared his name. In time, he would return to his rightful home and resume his old life there. Until then, Saul Senior had a terrible thirst to quench…
~~~~
Gary looked up from the book, a little stunned. He thought Mr. Quille had said that it was for Ryan as much as him, that ‘your son could learn a lot from it’. This certainly wasn’t a book he could describe as being educational to anyone, not with the contents thus far. He couldn’t deny he had enjoyed himself though. As creepy as the tale was, it had fired his imagination, filled his mind with vivid scenes in a way that he hadn’t experienced before. He looked at the words on the page, secretly replaying the pictures in his head, again, and again, and again. He turned the page and kept reading…
Halloween Spirit
“I told you already Cole, I’ll take you trick or treating later-”
“But Dad, it’s 5pm already! The streetlights are coming on and all the pumpkins have been lit…”
“Cole Alphonsus Daniels, for the last time, we’ll go out, when I say we go out. Is that clear?”
“...yes sir.”
“Good. Now find some way to entertain yourself while I finish work. After that we’ll hit the streets.”
Cole scowled as his father ruffled his hair. He ducked to avoid any further displays of affection and found his way to the front yard to sit on the porch. Holding his head in his hands, he stared glumly as people had begun to fill the streets. He longed to join but here he was, confined to waiting for his dad.
His gaze wandered, looking for something, anything, interesting to look at and found himself staring dead ahead at the pumpkin sitting on the fence. There was something weird about it, other than the way it seemed to be evenly matching his gaze. Then it hit him, the pumpkin was unlit. Cole frowned, he thought he had made sure to get all of them earlier. He got up to light it, grabbing the candle from the lantern nearest to him.
“Guess you’re missing out too huh, little guy?” He said as he waited for the wick to catch flame. He smiled as the pumpkin flickered to life.
“Well that’s you taken care of. Now if only my dad could hurry up and get out here.” The pumpkin flickered again. If Cole didn’t know better, he would have said it was winking at him.
---
Gil Daniels tapped away at his keyboard, muttering to himself. He moved to open another document, glancing at the clock as he did so. Another hour before he planned to leave the house, plenty of time. He rubbed at his temples to try to alleviate some of his headache. Damn, he was getting old, if not in body, then in spirit. He picked up his mug and took a sip of coffee, leaning back in his chair as he did so. He licked his lips. The coffee sure tasted good today. Did Lauren do something special to it? He took another sip. Kind of like a pumpkin spice latte. Usually he hated those but this one tasted fresher somehow, more authentic. He closed his eyes and drank deeply, downing it in one go. He felt a warm glow permeate through his body, washing through every fibre of his being. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and smiled.
---
“Ready to go sport?”
Cole jumped, nearly dropping the candle he was still holding. His father was standing in the doorway, beaming away, arms akimbo.
“Ye-yeah! Let me put this candle back.” He turned to the pumpkin he had just been talking to. “Did you do this?” The pumpkin stared merrily back at him but the flame held steady. “Well, if you did, thanks.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking to but I’m over here kiddo!” His father laughed as he spoke, a loud, hearty, chuckle. He took the candle from Cole as he approached and set it back in the original pumpkin. He turned to Cole, with mischief in his eyes.
“Race you to the next house.” Cole watched with wonder as his dad set off on a brisk jog. He giggled and dashed ahead of him, heading straight for the neighbour’s door, and rang the doorbell thrice for good measure.
“Beat you dad!” Cole laughed as his father saluted his victory.
“What’s all this then?” Cole turned to the source of the harsh new voice and his smile wilted. He had forgotten about the cranky old man who lived here. He opened his mouth to say something but words failed him. He felt a reassuring hand clapped onto his shoulder and turned to see his dad.
“Pardon my son’s enthusiasm, we’re trick or treating for Halloween. Surely you understand?” He said, reaching his hand out. Cole watched as the old man initially jerked backwards, ready to slam the door shut but the instant his dad grabbed onto him, he stopped. The old man closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them with a wide smile.
“Of course, of course, wait here, I’ll be only a moment.” The old man winked at Cole and walked back into the house, ostensibly to fetch some candy. Cole smiled warily back at him. Once he was out of earshot, Cole turned to his father.
“That was… kind of weird.”
His father shrugged good-naturedly.
“Seems the holiday spirit is particularly infectious today.” He said with a grin.
~~~~
Gary felt his head snap up as he finished the last word. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading for but it suddenly felt like it must have been hours. He looked at the TV to check the clock but was greeted by a black screen. When had he switched it off? He turned to his watch, still early in the afternoon, as evidenced by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about the time, it wasn’t as if he was going to go anywhere, he needed to take care of Ryan at home. Mr. Quille had told him as much. ‘A boy needs his father.’ He found himself nodding along in agreement, before realising how silly he must have looked to anyone watching. Thankfully Ryan was still in his room. Besides, he was really getting into a reading groove now, he looked back down as he turned the page, eager for the next story…
Bared Souls
Bernard was running. He wished that he knew where he was moving to but he knew that didn’t matter as much as staying on the move. He’d gone too deep into the forest this time and now there was a bear chasing after him. He knew his chances weren’t good but what choice did he have? He threw cautionary glances behind him every now and then, hoping the beast would get bored and wander off but he couldn’t be sure, so he kept running.
As his lungs began to scream for oxygen and his legs threatened to give out, he slowed down and thrust his hand against a thick tree trunk for support. He tried to steady his breathing, not quite willing to look around just yet. Either he had lost the bear, or he’d be overtaken in seconds due to exhaustion. He closed his eyes, hoping against hope it was the former. After a few minutes of not being mauled to death, he allowed himself a cautious look around. No bear, thank goodness. But… no signs of civilisation either. He frowned.
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire eh old boy?” He whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. He sat down and pulled his compass and map out, trying to get a sense of where he could go from here. Unfortunately he couldn’t see any landmarks near his position. He tried to stand up but sat back down almost immediately, his head spinning. He knew he’d probably find his way out with enough time but it suddenly occurred to him that he was very, very, very tired. He leaned against the tree trunk, figuring he’d rest his eyes for just a few minutes. Just a few minutes, that’s all…
---
When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was how much darker it was. Cursing his own foolishness, he stood up, alert, and angry with himself. Grumbling, he pulled out his compass and map again, squinting as best as he could in the fading light. Then he heard a growl. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. The growl came again, louder this time. He swung around, cursing under his breath, trying to locate the source of the noise. With the third and loudest growl yet, he bolted off in the opposite direction, fleeing for his life.
He ran until he once again could not run anymore. He looked around even as he panted for breath. More trees, still no sign of where he could be. With the sunlight rapidly fading, it was looking like he’d have to spend the night in the woods. How could he have been so ill-prepared? He’d be lucky not to freeze to death. That was, if the bears didn’t find him first. He walked with one hand outstretched, as the woods grew darker still. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to find, if anything. He just kept putting one foot in front of the other.
Then the growling started again. Bernard grit his teeth, trying not to scream out in frustration and despair. This time he didn’t even have the slightest idea where it had come from. It was as if it had sounded all around, or maybe even from inside him. Insanity had come for him it seemed. He tilted his head, straining his ears, begging them to help him pick out which direction the bear was. He could scarcely trust his own senses as the growling began to fade away. Bernard breathed easily for a few moments. He turned his head to the front, only to find himself face to face with the bear.
He yelped out in fright, before he even realised he should not have been able to see anything in the darkness, let alone the bear. The bear did not blend in against the dark woods. Instead it glowed, brightly at that. Tendrils of light radiated off of its body and dissipated lazily into the air. The bear licked its nose, apparently entirely unbothered by Bernard or his palpable fear. It stepped closer and Bernard realised it made no noise as it moved. Even though he knew it made no sense, he could see through the bear. He could see the leaves it stepped on remain as scattered and unflattened as they were before.
The bear tilted its head and yawned at him, before pawing the ground and walking past him. Bernard didn’t realise he was holding his breath until the bear turned to look at him. Incredulous, he watched as the bear gestured with its head, twice. Follow me, it seemed to be saying. He stepped forward cautiously, shivering as he did so. Whether it was from the cold or fear, he couldn’t say. He stepped forward again, closer and closer, until he was directly alongside the bear.
And then the bear stepped into him.
Bernard stood stock still, certain he was going mad and seeing things. Yet, he could feel the bear as it continued to align itself against his flesh. Against all logic, he felt obliged to get on all fours so the bear could do so more comfortably. As the bear filled him, he felt a sense of extraordinary calm. His face twitched as he felt his senses heighten. New smells, new sounds, a completely different way of experiencing the world. He crawled forward, expecting to feel foolish, only to realise how natural his movements felt.
He broke into a running gait, as if he had known how to do so his entire life. His heart beat a steady thrum in his chest as he navigated the woods. It was all so simple, so obvious. How had he not realised it before? He headed easily through the winding roads, following the smells and clues towards where he knew humans would be. He ran for what must have been hours but not once did he grow tired. He felt alive, more than he had ever known throughout his years of existence. No need for fear, no sense of urgency, just purity of movement towards the goal that was emblazoned in his mind.
He came to the edge of the woods as the solid darkness began to give way to a pale blue. Not that he had needed the light to make his way through the night. He arched his back and felt himself stand up straight. At the same time he felt as if something was slipping out of him. His senses dulled rapidly back to normalcy but now it was jarring and unfamiliar. He turned back to see the same radiant bear again. He looked towards the road, the one that would take him back to civilisation. After the night he had had, it would be nice to return back home to a warm shower and bed. Even as he thought of his modern comforts, he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing, that he’d remain forever incomplete if he walked out of these woods as he was now.
He turned to look at the bear again. This time, it was he who gestured with his head. Twice. The bear looked as impassive as ever and he worried for a moment that it would turn back into the woods. Then it stepped forward, until it was alongside him. This time, it was Bernard who stepped willingly into the waiting spirit, for now he knew what it was. Their bodies aligned once more, the two took a few tentative steps, before throwing their head back and roaring as one.
~~~~
Gary sat with the book open in his lap. He stared blankly at the ceiling as his lips parted ever so slightly. The book rose into the air but Gary made no sign that he was aware of it, or anything at all for that matter. The pages began to flip rapidly but even as they flapped in his face, they remained neat, uncreased, orderly. As they approached the ends of the book, the pages picked up speed until it snapped shut. Whatever enchantment it was under seemed to come to an end as the book began to fall to the ground, only to be caught by a thick, deft hand. Gary blinked, and smiled as he looked over the book once again. Gone was any design that might have been tattooed on it. The front and back were now identical smooth dark faces. He smiled to see his own name now written in bold gold lettering down the length of the spine. He popped the book open, to the page he knew the dedications would be written on.
“To my neighbour, Gary, whose door is always open to me.”
Chuckling, he closed the book just as Ryan came out of the room.
“Hey Ryan.”
“Wha-uh, yeah dad?”
“Want to go trick or treating?”
“Uhhhhh, I thought I was grounded.”
“You still are mister but I can make an exception as long as you’re with me.”
Ryan looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes but the chance to get out of the house was too golden to pass up.
“...Ok, let me get changed.” Ryan said, before bounding back into his room, clearly eager to leave.
Gary smiled. He got up and stretched out his arms, flexing his fingers as he looked at them admiringly. He called out to Ryan.
“Let’s visit Mr. Quille next door first. I-uh, I mean he will be more than happy to see us, I should think.”