Writing for Fun
November 2016
Spooky - Jan Osborne
It was All Hallows Eve. Halloween, the night when, according to Celtic legend, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead becomes blurred and the dead return to earth to torment the living.
The light was fading and Mary checked the contents of her huge apron pocket for the umpteenth time. Yes, all was ready; loose sweets and chocolate treats for the expected trick or treaters replaced the purse and mobile ‘phone she normally carried. These she left on the small table nearby.
She sat down in her armchair and immediately Tibbles leapt onto her lap, curled up and began to purr. Charlie, her ancient Jack Russell, not to be outdone, nuzzled her hand on the chair’s armrest and she stroked his soft head. Stopping only to reach over the side to check her stick was in place she settled back to wait in excited anticipation.
She was now very frail and shaky and did not get out much and really missed seeing and talking to folk, especially the children. Tonight would definitely be her treat.
Suddenly the door bell rang and Mary struggled to her feet as quickly as she could and, grabbing her stick, staggered towards the front door delighting at the childish shrieks and groans and yelling of ‘Trick or treat. Trick or treat.’
Zombies, ghouls and witches filled her porch still yelling, ‘Trick or treat. Trick or treat.’
‘Treat of course,’ and so saying Mary fumbled inside her apron pocket pulling out handfuls of miniature chocolate bars and handing them round.
A chorus of, ‘Ooh, thank you Mrs Weston,’ rang in her ears as they ran off clutching their prizes.
Mary’s heart swelled with love for these dear souls and she settled back in her chair once more eagerly awaiting the next ringing of the bell. She was not disappointed as ten minutes later she was heading for the door again. Twice more and Mary had to refill her apron pocket.
Again the bell rang but this time it did not stop; someone’s finger was firmly pressed down on the button.
Mary threw open the door and was confronted not by excited youngsters in ghoulish Halloween costumes but youths with sinister zombie masks only – masks only to hide identity and definitely not for fun. No cries of trick or treat rang out, only silence.
Mary, now frightened, tried to close the door but one boy stuck out his foot to jam it open.
‘Now that’s not nice is it trying to ignore us you stinking old bag. Show us some respect. It’s Halloween isn’t it? What’s it going to be, trick or treat?’
Mary hesitated then whispered, ‘Treat.’
‘Didn’t hear you did we, lads?’
The gang smirked and shouted, ‘No.’
Mary swallowed hard and taking a deep breath shouted a quavering, ‘Treat,’ and made to hand over chocolates from her apron but the leader laughed and pushed her to one side and entered the house. Charlie barked loudly at the intruder but yelped as the toe of a boot connected and sent him flying. Mary cried in horror and tried to get to him but the other youths crowded round her forcing her to remain in the doorway.
The youth returned with a wad of notes and her mobile which he held up like trophies for the others to see. Seeing satisfied grins all round he pocketed the money, dropped the mobile and ground it under the heel of his Doc Martens. Jerking his head towards the open door the others sloped off.
Grabbing Mary he leaned close and snarled, ‘One word to anyone, bitch, and we will be back and we won’t be so gentle next time.’ With this he shoved her back into the hallway, stepped into the porch, and slammed the door shut.
Stunned Mary clung onto the coat hanging on the coat peg that had saved her falling over and sobbed uncontrollably.
Half an hour later, after checking on Charlie, she slumped down into her chair. Both pets drew close and pawed her sensing her distress and need for comport. Still trembling with shock she closed her eyes in an effort to blot out the horrific ordeal. Tears were still coursing down her cheeks when blessed sleep overtook her.
Sometime later she awoke. She looked for Tibbles and Charlie but the room was empty. Puzzled she made her way to the kitchen. As she entered she startled Tibbles who, with fur standing on end, backed away from her hissing and spitting. She turned to Charlie and was amazed to see him also backing away, hackles rising and with lips curled back in a grimace of fear and growling. When she stepped forward with outstretched arm both animals nearly climbed the walls in an effort to keep distance between them and her and when the chance occurred both animals shot from the room like bullets fired from a gun.
Pained and puzzled as to their behaviour she raised her hand to her trembling lips to stifle the scream building deep inside but could not see or feel their touch. Looking down again at her arm she realised she could see though it. She raised her other and it was the same. A terrible explanation occurred to her. Mary urgently needed to see her body in the full length mirror in the hall.
As soon as the thought manifested itself she found herself passing through the wall and into the hall. The silver of the mirror reflected back a ghastly and ghostly parody of her real body. She reached out to touch the surface of the mirror and her hand went through into the wall and beyond. Then it hit her. She was dead. She was dead but still earthbound. Why? She knew not but her hazy doppelganger began to smile a slow wicked smile. Looking into the shiny surface she realised she could alter her image at will. One minute a demonic shape, now a ghost. What about a zombie?
The wicked grin writhed and rippled across her hellish visage as she vanished silently through the front door and out into the street beyond. Now, where were those boys? It was time to do some serious frightening of her own.