Thursday, October 1, 2015

31 Days of Halloween Tales - String 'em Up

October is finally here!

And with it my 31 days of Halloween stories. :)

My first one is a little short story entitled:


"We should go home now, Teddy. We're already late."

Edward looked at his younger brother and scowled. Teddy could be such a baby at times. They were only a few minutes late and Mom wouldn't probably even notice.

"One more house, Teddy. Okay? Then we'll go home?"

Teddy looked up at his brother trying to see if he meant it this time. It had been the same for the last six houses and he was tired of playing the game.

"I pick the house though, Eddie."

Before Edward could argue, Teddy walked up the street and headed towards the last house on the left.

The house was known among the kids in the neighborhood as the Haunted House. An ancient Victorian that had long since been deserted and left to rot.  There were seven chimneys that you could count from the street and the possibility of more in the back.

Teddy was terrified of the old Victorian but wasn't going to let his brother know it.
As far as Teddy knew there was no electricity in the house but late at night, when he  couldn't sleep, he would stare at the old house from his bedroom window upstairs and would see lights on in there just the same.  Not real like lamp lights, these were more of the glowing type. And they moved.

Teddy reached the edge of the property and stepped gently onto the grass as if he was entering sacred ground, he didn't want to wake whatever was in there. He slid his hand into his jacket pocket to make sure it was still there. Yes, it was there. He could do what he came to do.

Teddy turned around but didn't see Ed anywhere. Not even on the street. It didn't matter though, he would do it alone if he had to. In fact, maybe alone was even better.

He slipped his hand back into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the cold metal.  It was time. 

Teddy held his breath as he pulled the steel from his pocket. He looked for his brother one last time before he started shooting.


When Mrs. Johnson stepped out of her front door the next morning the sight before her stopped her dead. How could this have happened in this quiet neighborhood?

Across the street, the old Devlin Manor stood perfectly still as it had every morning for over two hundred years. She thought it was a gorgeous building, majestic and proud and she loved the mystery of the house and what it meant to the neighborhood.

But this morning, Devlin Manor had been changed.

In the bright sunshine of the first morning in November, Mrs. Johnson could clearly see that the ancient Victorian was now covered in yards and yards of bright pink Silly String.

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