Short Halloween Stories
J. Villalobos
Copyright 2011 by J.Villalobos
Smashwords Edition
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Table of Contents
Introduction
Short Stories of the Supernatural:
The 1st Story: The Unexpected Guest
The 2nd Story: Exorcising the Football Team
The 3rd Story: The Pets’ Revenge
Full Moon
About the Author
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Introduction
Ever since I can remember, Halloween has been one of my favorite holidays. My favorite part of Halloween was not trick-or-treating. Instead I most enjoyed reading stories of a spooky nature. Even now I am thankful for Halloween because it gives me a chance to read stories that some would view as too macabre to be read at any other time of year. However, the following stories are not overly gruesome. Authors who write for young adults were my main inspiration in writing the tales contained in this book. This small offering is my way of thanking Halloween for all the doors into the imagination which it opened for me. If this book will do the same for even one person, then its purpose will be fulfilled.
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Short Stories of the Supernatural
The First Story: The Unexpected Guest
It had been the best Halloween ever, in Jimmy’s humble opinion. The holiday had been gracious enough to fall on a Saturday, which was always a bonus. A less devoted child than Jimmy might have slept in--but not this young fellow. Jimmy absolutely lived for the holidays, and, besides Christmas, Halloween was his favorite. He and his two sisters, Denise and Erica, had spent the day watching movies and reading scary stories until it was time to go trick-or-treating.
Denise had dressed as a ghost, and Erica, a zombie. Jimmy himself had been a perfect imitation of Frankenstein’s monster. Their mother, Katie had jokingly said she was the chaperone, while Jimmy’s father, Gerald, had stayed behind so as not to “slow the rest of them down.” The night air had been cool and breezy.
The waning moon shone like a flickering jack-o-lantern in the sky. Jimmy and his sisters collected plenty of candy. Jimmy often urged them to continue despite their fatigue. He knew that at age twelve he only had a few more Halloween nights left in an illustrious trick- or-treating career. Denise and Erica were only six and eight respectively, and in the prime of their trick-or-treating youth. Finally, everyone was satisfied, and Jimmy’s mom drove them all home.
Jimmy was sitting in the downstairs den, eating some of his candy and watching college football with his father. Jimmy’s mom was folding clothes nearby, and Denise and Erica were playing. The wind had picked up outside, and it whistled sadly through the trees.
Then, very quietly, there was a tap at the door. Only Jimmy’s mom looked up. She was beginning to think she had imagined it when a second knock came. This knock was louder and more insistent. Finally Jimmy’s mom spoke. “Honey, I think someone’s at the door.”
“Just ignore them. It’s too late for giving out candy,” Gerald said absently, never turning away from the television. Everything was silent for a moment, save for the wind howling and the television droning on, oblivious to all around it.
Suddenly, like a clap of thunder, the door was pounded with a force that shook the house. Everyone jumped, but Gerald jumped most of all-- up out of his seat on the couch to be exact. “That’s it!” he muttered. “I’m going to tell those kids to knock it off, or I’m calling the cops!” Gerald stormed up the stairs, and everyone followed to see the confrontation they were worried would transpire.
Gerald stomped to the door with his family trailing meekly behind him. Gerald was usually a mild- mannered person, but he liked privacy in his own home. Certainly loud knocking late at night would irritate anyone. Gerald unlocked the door and opened it swiftly. The person standing outside was silent and concealed in darkness that the feeble candles of the outside jack-o-lanterns could not illuminate. Gerald flicked on the porch light. Then he went rigid, as if he could not believe his eyes.
The rest of the family could see over Gerald’s shoulder why he was standing as if struck dumb. It was Gerald’s father. Jimmy’s grandfather as well, of course. That was not unusual. The absolutely terrifying thing was that this beloved man had passed away months ago- in February of that year to be exact. Jimmy’s family just stared trembling; eyes wide with fear. Jimmy’s grandfather stared calmly back.
Then, his face broke into a wide smile, and he said “Hello everyone! Happy Halloween to ye all!” Jimmy’s grandfather, whose name was Martin, stepped forward and spread his arms as if to embrace the whole household. He slowly crossed the threshold and spoke again, “I know there’s a lot to explain, but we have the whole night for that. It’s so good to see ye all again! You look so grown up,” Martin smiled at the kids. It was a somewhat sad smile, filled with happy memories now past.
“Katie, dear,” he spoke to Jimmy’s mom, “Do ye suppose I could trouble ye for a wee bit o' food? I would normally wait a bit, but this is the only night of the year I can eat mortal food again.”
“O-of course,” Katie sputtered, beginning to inch toward the kitchen but never taking her eyes off Martin. Martin looked a little hurt, but smiled nonetheless. “Come, come! There’s no reason to be frightened! I’ll explain everything while the turkey’s roasting.”
“T-turkey?” Gerald also stuttered nervously.
“Ah, I’m sorry to presume lad, but turkey bein’ my favorite dish, and this bein’ a special occasion, I hoped you wouldn’t mind. And, of course, I happen to know that you always buy a couple of turkeys a long ways before Thanksgiving. A mighty fine habit, if I may say so meself!” (Martin was a true Irishman, let there be no doubt.)
The family now began to relax. It was hard not to; Martin was so jovial and like his old self. As a group they made their way to the kitchen. Martin offered to help cook, but Katie insisted he sit and rest. She knew he was no maestro in the culinary arts; plus she wanted to hear his explanation for the strange events that had thus far occurred.
When Martin had comfortably seated himself and lit his old pipe, with no one objecting to the sweet smell of the pipe’s tobacco, he began to speak. “There’s not a whole lot to tell, to be quite honest. On account of tha’ fact, I’ll keep me story short an’ sweet.” The rest of the family looked at Martin expectantly.
“Y’ see,” Martin began, “when people die they go on up to Heaven like you’d expect.”
Here Erica interrupted, “What’s Heaven like Grandpa?”
Martin’s warm blue eyes twinkled. “I’m sorry me wee lass, but I’m not supposed to tell ye all abou’ it. Heaven is somethin’ people have to see for themselves. Besides, words can’t begin to describe such a wonderful place.” Martin paused to look at everyone, with a contented smile on his aged face. “Of course, I watch over you from there, so you all might wonder what I’m doing here. Well, I’ll tell ye the gospel truth. Departed souls can return to Earth, but for only one night each year-on All Hallow’s Eve. Y’see son?” he winked at Gerald. “Some o’ our Irish stories are true.”
Gerald grinned back at his father. He had never believed in any of the old legends about spirits returning to Earth on Halloween. But now none of them could doubt these stories, for they were experiencing their validity for themselves!
“Does this happen to everyone?” Katie asked tentatively. “I mean, do people everywhere get a visit from old relatives tonight?”
“Ah, a very good question m’dear,” Martin said thoughtfully. “Only if the person and their family had an extremely strong bond in life. And only if the person’s family thinks about them often, and misses ‘em somethin’ fierce. That’s the kind of love that even death can’t take away.”
Martin’s voice shook with emotion, and his eyes glistened. There was a reflective silence in which each person was lost in their own thoughts. Then Martin spoke up cheerfully, “Well, the night waits for no one. Say, Jimmy, are ye still a hand at billiards?”
Jimmy and his grandfather had often played pool together in the family game room. “Sure, Grandpa,” Jimmy said excitedly. He had been too in awe of the situation to say anything else before, but the prospect of this familiar pastime excited him. Jimmy had always enjoyed playing pool with his grandfather and had been sad to think that he would never get the chance again. But lo’ and behold- here was that opportunity!
Jimmy and Martin headed toward the game room in the basement with Erica and Denise tagging along. Gerald stayed in the kitchen with Katie to help prepare the meal and discuss everything that had taken place. Jimmy and Martin played pool for several hours. Erica and Denise were too young to play, but Jimmy and Martin would sometimes let them shoot for the practice. Martin had taught Jimmy everything he knew about billiards. Jimmy was much improved from when he first began playing and won his fair share of games.
However, Martin was still the master and won more than he lost. Jimmy didn’t mind in the least and enjoyed the light-hearted competition. In the middle of the night, sometime around half past two, Katie came down to announce that the turkey was ready. Jimmy and Martin carefully put away the balls and cue sticks (Denise and Erica enjoyed helping with this task).
Then, Martin and Jimmy covered the table with its protective sheet and left the game room for the dining room above. The family had a wonderful meal, with much talking and laughing. Martin praised Katie’s skills, saying it was the best meal he had ever eaten. After the main course they all had homemade cookies for desert. The children drank milk while the adults had coffee. Martin added a touch of whiskey to his, but he was the only one.
When at last there was nothing left to consume and everyone was stretched contentedly in their chairs, Martin glanced out the window. “My goodness,” he exclaimed, “it’s startin’ to get light out. I can see the firs’ rays o’ sun peeking over the trees.” Martin slowly began to get to his feet. “It’s near time I be on me way. I can’t stay after sunrise.”
The family began to protest, but Martin smiled softly and held up a wiry hand for silence. “Don’t y’ be frettin’ now,” he grinned at all of them, “I’ll be back at the same time next year. Every year, as a matter of fact. And next year I’ll bring your Grandma as well. She was gonna come this year but was worried the sight of us would shock ye all. So I volunteered, an’ she’ll be happy to know what a fun night it was. Very fun indeed.”
The family still looked doleful. “Come now, no long faces!” Martin exclaimed. “Remember, even if ye can’t see me, I’ll always be watchin’ over ye. Now, before I go, there’s one thing I’ll be needin’ ‘t tell ye all. When ye go to sleep--which I have no doubt’ll be soon after stayin’ up all night-- well, when ye wake up again it’ll be as if no time passed. Regardless of when ye go ‘t sleep, ye’ll be wakin’ up to this same beautiful mornin’ of All Saint’s Day as we be seein’ right now. Of course, that doesn’t mean this didn’t happen-of course it did! An’ as long as ye know that in your hearts, that’s all tha’ matters. But still,” here Martin gave everyone a mischievous wink, “I’ll try and leave a bit o’ evidence. Somethin’ tangible to show any doubters. On second thought,” he stroked his chin thoughtfully, it might be bes’ t’ keep this a secret. Besides, who’d believe ye?!”
Martin laughed heartily. The sun was now rising in earnest. Martin moved swiftly from one person to another, bidding farewell to each of them. “I tell ye Jimmy,” he said with tears of joy in his twinkling eyes, “we had us a mighty fine time, didn’t we?”
“Yeah Grandpa,” Jimmy’s own eyes were glistening, “we sure did.” Waving one last goodbye to the entire family, Martin walked through the open door into the brilliant sunlight. With the autumn trees illuminated, the waking birds singing rapturously, and the sky glorious shades of pink, purple, and gold, it almost seemed to the family as if they could see the gates of Heaven-faintly but there nonetheless.
Then the moment passed, and Martin vanished into the exultant light of the morning. The family was extremely tired after such a wonderful night. They simply hadn’t realized it before. Now, with Martin gone, everyone unanimously decided to get some rest.
Jimmy wearily trudged up to his room in the upstairs loft. He climbed into bed without changing clothes and slept soundly. He dreamed happily about the unbelievable events of the previous night. When Jimmy awoke after what seemed like a long time he looked out his window.
The sun was shining with the light of early morning from the east. “So,” Jimmy thought, “it’s just like Grandpa said-or maybe the whole thing was a dream.” Then, remembering Martin’s promise to leave a “bit o’ evidence”, Jimmy jumped out of bed. He thundered down the stairs to the kitchen.
There, on the kitchen counter, was the skeleton of a large turkey. It was still on its serving platter, and the smell of the delicious meat still lingered. Jimmy smiled widely. He knew at that moment that it had truly been the best Halloween ever.
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The 2nd Story: Exorcising the Football Team
The high school football team was cursed. Everybody in the small town of Bird’s Nest knew it. The team never could catch a break. For every game of every season-for the last forty one years to be exact-something always went wrong. Either the team would lose horribly or get killed by mindless mistakes, penalties, or inexplicably bad luck.
Coaches and players came and went like seasons-it didn’t matter. The school did everything it could to build a winner. Nothing worked. There was no doubt about it. From the mayor to the lowest vagabond in that quaint Georgia town, everyone knew the Bird’s Nest High School Falcons were cursed.
The fans, fortunately, were extremely loyal. After all, in such a small town there wasn’t much else to do. The idea of a curse slowly began to cross the minds of the citizens of Bird’s Nest after about twenty years of futility.
Vaguely people began to remember that way back when the team was building a brand new off campus practice facility, they had torn down a patch of woods. That was not all that had been torn down.
The run-down trailer of an old lady had been torn down because the trailer was in such bad condition it could not be moved. She had been extremely angry; she refused the school’s offer to pay for a new trailer.
Why, she asked, had the school chosen to build there in that specific patch of woods? Did they not know she lived there? Had they no respect for other people and their property? She also said there were things that couldn’t be replaced; she had lived her whole life in those woods and threatened that the school would regret their decision.
She left town the next day, and no one saw her again. When people started to talk about the team being cursed, they pointed to this event and reasoned the old lady must have been a witch. Some people said this with a humorous air, as if they thought the whole idea of a curse was one big joke.
More superstitious people believed that this incident was the cause of the football team’s sufferings. One such person was Daniel Granger. Daniel was a sophomore in the town’s only high school. He loved sports-- especially football--and had endured seasons of torment watching the local Falcons for as long as he could remember.
Now that he was in high school, Daniel was even more emotionally invested in the team. The mood of the student body was much gloomier than the rest of the town at the ineptitude of their so called team. After all, they had a much closer association with this pathetic group than everyone else in town.
Daniel was also fairly superstitious. He learned many of the traditional superstitions concerning such things as black cats and the number 13 from his parents and grandparents. However, as he grew older, he subtly rebelled against these old beliefs and disregarded them as backwoods folklore.
The one supernatural phenomenon that Daniel was adamant about was that the Falcons were cursed. What Daniel would see on Friday night would only further convince him of this.
The Bird’s Nest High School Falcons were playing against their arch rivals, the Briarville Panthers. It was a chilly night in October. Ominously enough, the game fell on the 13th. Coupled with the fact that it was a Friday night, the fans felt a sense of foreboding.
Apparently, they were correct in their fears. The Panthers jumped out to an early lead and never looked back. The score was 48-0 in the Panthers favor at halftime. Daniel didn’t arrive until after the third quarter began, due to the fact that he had been attending his younger sister’s piano recital.
Daniel made his way to one of the standing room only sections. It was low and extremely close to the field. A four-foot-high whitewashed fence was all that separated the fans from the Falcons bench. Daniel was surprised to see the principal, Mr. Arthur W. Blake, standing next to the coach, Robby Pastinko, and chatting.
The game was entirely out of hand, with the Panthers winning 56-3. Coach Pastinko didn’t seem to be paying any attention to what was happening on the field. Daniel could make out what was being said without much difficulty since the stadium was eerily silent.
“Yes, it’s horrible, isn’t it?” Principal Blake gestured toward the field. “An absolute disgrace.” He shook his head disgustedly. “Not that I blame you, Robby,” he added, with a quick glance at Coach Pastinko who was squirming nervously.
“We’re on our way to a third straight winless season. Even by our standards, that’s pretty bad. Now, you’re the forty-first coach we’ve had in the last forty-one years. And if you want to stay past this season, you better clean up some of the garbage I’m seeing on this field and make this team a little respectable!”
One of the players who was standing nearby spoke up tentatively, “Gee, Principal Blake, we’re trying as hard as we can.” It was Brian Leftfoot, a backup quarterback constantly maligned with foot and ankle injuries.
“Trying?! Trying?!” Principal Blake shouted. “There’s no point in trying if you can’t win! Occasionally at least! But this team is on pace to lose every game in the season by an average of fifty points! So don’t tell me about trying! I’m trying to watch this entire game without ripping my eyes out of their sockets! That’s what I’m trying to do!”
Leftfoot slunk off submissively, while Principal Blake stood seething next to Coach Pastinko. By now the game was nearly over. Principal Blake turned to leave the field after glancing at the score board. It now read 77-10 in favor of the Panthers. “Excuse me sir,” Coach Pastinko called after Principal Blake.
“Yes, coach?” Principal Blake leered slightly.