The Black Halloween

The kid

 The light flickered on and off, casting the room in partial darkness. It was a cold November night, and everywhere was eerily quiet. Something jolted Angelina from a deep slumber. She opened her eyes briefly, thinking she heard a noise outside the window. Turning her head, she was startled to see it ajar, a frigid breeze blowing in and chilling the air. Glancing at her husband’s side of the bed, she was shocked—he wasn’t there.

Yawning, she tried to settle back to sleep, assuming Patrick was either relieving himself or working late again. But a nagging premonition told her something was wrong, though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Sighing, she punched her pillow into a comfortable shape and closed her eyes. That’s when laughter echoed from the wall: "Ha, ha, ha."

She bolted upright, frowning, and checked the window again. Teeth chattering, she hurried to close it but slipped on the icy floor. Her head cracked against the hard wooden boards. Stars exploded in her vision as she tried to orient herself, but her hand slipped again. "Ow!" she exclaimed. Brushing hair from her eyes, she noticed the blood on her fingers. "Patrick! Patrick!" she screamed, but no answer came.

Crawling on hands and knees to the door, she used it to haul herself up. With a shaky breath, she groped her way to the stairs leading downstairs.

Suddenly, the light steadied, its brightness blinding her. Blinking it away, she saw a girl of about ten standing four steps below, head bowed, long hair covering her face. She wore a blood-soaked white sleeveless nightgown that fell just below her knees. A jagged bone protruded from her right hand, where three fingernails were missing—blood dripping from the wounds, tapping rhythmically: tap, tap, tap.

"Who are you?" Angelina asked, stepping back. No response.

"How did you get in here?" She glanced around, confirming this was her house. Still, silence.

A voice rasped from the shadows: "Angelina, my darling, your blood is needed for the sacrifice. Ha, ha, ha."

Her heart leaped into her throat. Whimpering, she retreated further, refusing to descend. Then the light snapped off. She stumbled backward onto the landing, her rear slamming into a flowerpot by the bedroom door. Wheezing in pain, she focused on the shuffling footsteps ascending the stairs. The girl’s voice chanted, climbing one step at a time: "She is the sacrifice. We need her blood for the birth of the Halloween. Her blood is the key to breaking the Dark One’s prison. Ha, ha, ha."

The light flickered on. Angelina stared in horror—the girl had no face, just a blank, featureless void heading her way. She screamed.

"Angelina! Calm down, it’s only a nightmare," Patrick said, cradling her as she gasped for breath, unable to speak.

"What was the dream about?" he asked, easing her back onto the bed.

"I saw blood... a kid with no face," she panted, checking the window to ensure it was locked. "It was open, breeze blowing in. I couldn’t find you. Laughter from the wall."

"Huh. That’s some dream, babe."

"Yeah, you can say that again."

"Do you mean a face like this?" He turned, revealing a blank void where his features should be—just like the girl. She screamed and fled the room.

At the landing, three pumpkin-headed figures snapped their jagged teeth at her. Laughter mocked her from behind.

A sharp slap across her face snapped her awake. Dazed, she focused on the blurry figure at her bed’s foot. It sharpened into her mother’s furious glare. "Do you want to bring the roof down on us with your screaming?" her mother fumed.

"Where am I?" Angelina croaked.

"Isn’t it obvious, fool?" her mother snapped.

"I was at my husband’s house." She avoided her mother’s eyes, scanning the unfamiliar room.

"And when did you marry?"

"Wait... I’m not married?"

"You must be mad. Get out of bed and help in the kitchen—your brother’s bringing a guest named Patrick."

"Patrick?"

"Don’t question me. Get dressed." Her mother stormed out.

Angelina sat frozen, butterflies churning in her stomach, the dream clinging like a shadow. Then laughter seeped from the wall: "This is just the beginning. Ha, ha, ha."

Screaming, she bolted from the room.