Trick or Treat Part 12- The Church

Before meth it was booze; the first AA meeting I ever went to was in a cramped Church basement. That was the first time I ever took crystal- the other regulars dealt out back before hand to get them through. The place was a shithole- no one went to church in that neighbourhood and the place was abandoned by Gods children and left to drunk fucks like us. The guy who ran it was “just like us” a ex-con doing a little community service who clearly was staying ‘clean’ until his parole officers looked the other way and he could flee to the Bahamas. As his assets started to unfreeze we noticed he got better fed as the weeks passed, this guy had connections and he had dough and bull shit was he “just like us”.

Eventually I gave up on that place- figured I’d go crazy if I stayed- but Sarah said I’d get clean or she was gone.

You forget about tequila when you’re already fucked on rock by 10am.

But the church did have one thing.

The church had an intact roof.

It started to rain and the three of us got drenched, the floor pooling and running bile and sawdust mixed and flowed in little spinning clumps. The little shit knocked again and I crept back from the door. He called out.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone home?”

My heart started to pound again as I saw the tops of heads flit past the closed ragged curtains. Then the kid said something that made my blood run very cold.

“Sarah’s looking for you. Hello?”

Trick or Treat Part 11- Last House

She lay there panting, her hair thrown about the floor, lousy with flecks of paint and splinters of wood. She turned to me with wide eyes that gleamed in the moonlight.

“Sorry… they got in…”

“Oh don’t worry about it sorry about the mess it’s just I wasn’t expecting visitors or a psycho children attack- WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”

With that she leapt up and clamped her hand down over my mouth. She whispered.

“Shut the fuck up. Those things have probably finished with my husband right now and will be looking for someone else to kill. If they hear us they’ll have no problem getting in. Do you understand me?”

There was a fresh tear poking from the corner of her eye. Her hand smelt of cigarettes and cheap bullshit perfume; the kind a chick starts on when she’s not really trying anymore- not even for herself. This wasn’t the sexy femme fatale from a few days ago. In this moonlight with the sounds of those little horrors stalking outside she just seemed like a lost soul in a broken body, a discarded cigarette butt crushed under the wheels of society. I nodded slowly and she lowered her hand.

The wretch in the corner coughed up blood onto the floor. I know if this had been our apartment Sarah would have flipped and instinctively made a move to clean it before realizing it was simply mixing with the sick and wood pulp.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it man…” He choked.

She glanced at his wound.

“No probably not you’re a fucking gonna honey.”

There was a knock at the door. We all froze. There was silence for a few moments. There were another three knocks. I turned to see the silhouette of a head barely reaching the translucent glass. He held a pitchfork which I suspected was probably not plastic. I crept towards the door as slowly as I could, heart pounding in my chest harder and harder as I got closer to the door. I felt a floorboard start to creak and recoiled, listening intently, for a agonizing second.

It knocked again; harder this time. I slid my head forward until it reached the tiny little peep hole. I held back my trembling just enough to stabilize and meet the hole and looked out.

There were almost a hundred of them in a massive crowd outside the front of the house, the rest of the streets seemed empty beyond the odd stray wandering like a sleepwalker through back yards and little alleyways. The crowd stood in absolute silence like robots; all dark soulless black eyes staring right at my door. The single kid at the front indeed had a sharpened steel pitchfork and blood smearing his red costume. His eyes stared up in the same way and he knocked mindlessly at regular intervals.

I pulled away, feeling my stomach try to throw more up but find nothing left. I turned my face back to my guests with a grimace.

They both knew what it meant.

Trick or Treat Part 11- Three’s a Crowd

“You got that car still?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Got caught by surprise in the parking lot… had to ditch it…”

“Wait the Little Caesars lot? Shit I hope Bucks okay…”

“Buck wasn’t there. Who is that guy anyway?”

“No one really knows he just walked into town one day. Our old drug dealer got busted by the feds and that was when people were flooding out of this place. No one had the connections to find more. But then Buck just came and started dealing. It was like a miracle.”

I tried to smile but it came out as a rough grimace.

“Some miracle…”

We were both silent for a few moments, nothing but the turmoil outside. Then we started hearing the guy next door yelling again.

“YOU LITTLE PIECES OF SHIT! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE DOOR!!!”

There was one gunshot after another. Then I heard his wife.

“Oh god there still alive!”

“Why won’t they die? Stay dead you shits!”

There were more shots, occasional stops to reload. Eventually we heard a window smash and they both screamed through tears. Lots of ‘Oh god!’ and ‘please no!’ but then eventually:

“Oh fuck this see ya cocksucker!”

Then another window smash and then a loud crunch as splinters of wood and planks fell down around us.

I pulled myself up to find the entire roof caved in and her spread eagled on the floor gasping for breath. The kid pushed a rotting piece of wood off himself to reveal a large chest wound.

“Oh shit man.” He breathed through gritted teeth.

“Oh please do let yourself in.” I grunted.

Trick or Treat Part 10- The Guest

I walked through and threw up again; this was too much shit to go through when in the throes of withdrawal. As I stood in the faint glow of moonlight piercing through the roof I started to stagger and came close to collapsing it what I’d just ejected.

That was when I felt bony fingers grasp my shoulders from behind.

I almost jumped out of my skin: turning and planting my fist against the thin face without even thinking. He screamed out and fell to the ground. It took a second for the sharp pain to register and I looked down at my hand- broken in two with the smashed knuckle still quivering and blood running across my arm. I then looked down to see that fucking kid from a few days ago. He spat a few bloody teeth out and looked at me.

“What the fuck man? I’m not one of those fucking things!”

I reached down and grabbed him by the throat, picking him up with fear-fuelled strength and placing a hand over his mouth. I spoke very quietly.

“I am going to take my hand away and when I do you are gonna explain to me how you got in, what’s going on, and who the fuck you are and you’re gonna do it very very calmly you hear me?” I felt possessed with a rage as my thoughts were swirling and I felt thin watery paste making plans of taking a trip north down in my stomach. Otherwise weak with dehydration only that fear and rage was giving me the energy to stand. I reached inside and fed those twin flames, burning my dying engines on full blast just to stay alive. The kid nodded slowly and I removed my hand.

“W-w-well when those things came I saw your car was gone… I pulled one of the planks back from your wall got in. I pushed it shut behind me they’ll never see it…”

“And what are those things why are there kids killing people out there?”

“I-I-I… they’ve always been here man… there something this town does… a Halloween thing…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Look no one knows man! It’s something that’s always happened here even when my folks were kids. Dates back to the 1950’s or something…”

“Well why are you here then? Why not stay out of town for the night?”

“I asked my folks that a few years but they never tell me they just change the subject. And they kicked me out and skipped town a few days ago so I don’t have a place.”

I sighed.

“I need a hit. You got any crystal?”

“Yeah I think so…”

He reached into his pocket, he then frowned and looked down. I looked and saw his fingers poking through a hole in the side of his stupid skinny jeans.

Shit.

Trick or Treat Part 9- The Kids

There must have been at least a hundred kids in total. All in old weathered Halloween costumes. They all had desert grime encrusted on them like they had been buried.

Perhaps they had.

I didn’t believe this shit was real for a second, I was probably still in my apartment having drunk myself into a stupor and imagined this twisted scene. I still ran back to my house though, just in case.

I passed more kids as I went from street to street, the woman with the grey hair opened the door to a little girl with a witch nose and found herself sliced to pieces. There’s was no way to help her so I ran on. Eventually I found mine and saw the neighbour’s house surrounded by kids. They were banging on the door and windows and rattling the fortifications incessantly. I stayed low to the ground as I snuck along the sidewalk towards my house. Fifty feet from the door, I almost stepped on a piece of broken glass but stepped over it, glancing up to see the kids still distracted by the neighbour’s house. 20 feet away and I was trembling so hard it affected my gait. The front yard, I stepped on a small piece of mutt meat with a loud squelch. One of the kids, a plastic scream mask on, turned to look at me and I darted behind a small dead shrub on my front lawn. Did he see me? I listened some more; my heart pounding harder and harder as I grew ever sicker with panic.

I turned to see another group of kids turn a corner far down the street. I sunk even closer to the floor and crawled on my stomach up to the front door. I pulled myself up from the floor as slow as I could and pushed my key into the lock. I saw the same kid’s head start to turn my way again as I burst into the house and clicked the door shut.

I relieved myself as I slid in the blots to strengthen the door and then sank to the floor panting.

I could still here the damn cat downstairs.

Trick or Treat Part 8- Dusk

It was strangely quiet that afternoon as I drove to the parking lot, all the usual sounds of the town wee gone and all I could here was the wind rushing over sand out in the desert and my own engine beneath me. There was nobody out of their houses, what lights were on shone through recently barred windows and every door was locked. It seemed strange but so many strange things happened in this little town it didn’t stand out to me especially. When I arrived I saw Buck and his friends weren’t there. I parked and sighed; dealers like Buck were always like this. That bastard new every second he delayed caused me agony and he got off on that. I stood in the cool air as the sun started to dip below the horizon and everything sunk into darkness. Suddenly the wind picked up and I began to shiver from cold as well as withdrawal. I stood for a long moment and the sun dipped more than halfway below the horizon filling the sky with an ominous crimson glow. I checked my phone for the time: 6:06 and still no sign.

The sun went completely below the horizon and it was suddenly very dark. One of the cockroaches still clung to my leg and I felt it shuffling in discomfort. I felt that familiar tingle down my spine when shit was about to go really bad; I felt it as just before the call about Mom and Dad, I felt it that night as I stepped in the door to my apartment and found the note, and now I felt it standing in a shithole as deep in the wilderness as one could get- no more lucky breaks coming from whatever sick bastard ran the show. All at once I heard howling whimpers from the surrounding desert as wolfs or coyotes or something scurried deeper into the howling dusty plains beyond.

I suddenly felt much more alone.

And, shortly after, much less so.

A small figure stood at the entrance to the parking lot, too short to be Buck. He slowly walked towards me and came into view, his white sheet blatant even in the pitch darkness. He was just some kid in a shitty Halloween costume. I gasped for breath not having realised I was holding it and spoke.

“Hey kid you lost?”

He said nothing for a few moments as he got closer to me and I could see more details; his ghost costume was tattered with rough eye holes through which I could see unsettling glistening darkness. He seemed to walk with a slight limp and was carrying a paper bag with a pumpkin drawn on it. He got within ten feet of me and held it out expectantly.

“Trick or Treat! Got any candy mister?”

“No kid go find someone’s house I don’t have any candy.”

“But mister, no one’s given me any candy yet look.” He turned the bag so I could see inside.

It was full to the brim with bloody razor blades.

I felt suddenly sick in my stomach, not the sick of withdrawal either; the deep visceral sensation of nausea when confronted with the truly unsettling. I turned and ran, ditching my car and sprinting as fast as my feeble legs could carry me. As I turned into my street I tripped in the dark, sprawling on the crumbling sidewalk. I slowly picked myself up from the ground and looked down to see the abandoned houses doors slowly opening and kids in costumes stepping out of them. They collected in groups and headed towards the occupied houses. One group found a confused hobo and pushed him to the ground, shoving fistfuls of tiny razors down his throat as he screamed in agony and blood poured from the edges of his mouth. The rest banged on the doors and windows of the occupied houses with the same monotonous chant.

“Trick or Treat!”

And that was the night I realised what this town was;

Hell.

Trick or Treat Part 7- Nausea

It’s safe to say that the days that followed ranked amongst the worst in my life: too sick to eat or sleep I lay on that couch all hours of the night hunching over to hurl into a bucket I’d found and completely despoiling the many spiders homes inside of it. I could feel the cockroaches crawling over my body and legs and the faint sounds as they clambered over the forest of bodily hair. With each fresh upheaval there was a little more blood and a little less food. Pretty soon it wasn’t the thick paste of when I arrived but rather a thin red liquid with the occasional melancholy wrinkled chunk. The visions came back to; Sarah would stand in the corner and watch me with that smile of hers saying little.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her smile in the flesh…

I could still hear noises from the basement every now and then. Someone else would find them disturbing but at times they were all that kept me linked back to reality; the scrabbling and scratching the lighthouse back to terra firma.

Hours crawled past and the light of day seeping through small holes in the roof seemed to remain in their blinding brilliance for far longer than they logically must have been. At night I could here every little sound, the occasional truck or road trip stopping at the gas station, the woman next door fucking her husband, sometimes wild animals wandering in from the desert in search of trash bags to pick apart before meandering back off into the wilderness. But with every vomit my ears began to ring and I was dragged from this comforting isolated setting back to harsh “reality”; Sarah letting out a cruel laugh as I spilled a little more of my guts.

Eventually though, after what felt like an eternity, October 31st finally rolled around.