Make It Last

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by Birgit K. Gaiser

 

Grown-ups always ask where my parents are. I mumble: “They couldn’t come.” They know that’s code for a challenging home environment, so they put some extra treats in my pumpkin bag.

I look past them through the door, imagining what it’s like to live there.

Finally, when the pumpkins have gone dark, I return to my favourite house.

I knock. A woman opens. 

In a small voice, I ask: “May I come in?”

Full of concern, she nods. Lifts me up. Hugs me.

I nibble her neck and drink—just a little. If I’m careful, she’ll last until next year.

 

Birgit K. Gaiser

Birgit lives in Edinburgh, Scotland and writes short speculative fiction. They enjoy the slightly bizarre and characters who view the world with a healthy dose of sarcasm. They like to consult their PhD in toxicology for the occasional (literary) poisoning.

Facebook:  @BirgitKGaiser

Sweet Delicious Candy

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by John Ward

 

She could smell candy on the evening breeze.

She closed her eyes and let the intoxicating perfume wash over her, rekindling memories of bygone nights filled with jack-o’-lanterns and costumes and excitement.

The mouth-watering scent lured her to a bustling suburban street where the candy ran freely. Drunk with anticipation, she sank her teeth into a discarded treat and gorged herself, savouring the sweet ichor as it exploded on her tongue.

She retreated before the enraged man was upon her. Looking back as she fled, she saw him try vainly to stop the blood gushing from the child’s severed artery.

 

John Ward

John Ward is a Vancouver-based writer, filmmaker, and podcaster. His recent comic book credits include Scratcher, Acausal, and Offbeats, and he’s also the creator of the 49 Degrees North Writers Podcast. Previously he was a theoretical physicist and was once almost run over by Stephen Hawking.

Twitter: @arbutus_films 

All Hungry Ghosts’ Eve

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by Collin Yeoh

 

Halloween? Really, granddaughter?

You can’t speak your mother tongue. You scorn our ways and traditions. You threw yourself at the first white man who could say “ni hao.” You don’t even have an altar to me in your home.

Now you eagerly celebrate this stupid Western drivel with its vulgar costumes and its children’s games?

You forget we have our own Hungry Ghost Festival. On that night the gates of hell open—and unlike this meaningless, commercialised holiday—that is when spirits really do walk the earth.

I’ll be paying you a visit then.

And I’ll be very hungry.

 

Collin Yeoh

Collin Yeoh enjoys writing horror drabbles. They’re so much fun! He has had several published in collections by Ghost Orchid Press, Black Ink Fiction, and Black Hare Press. He lives in Bangkok and misses Malaysian food.

Trick or Eat

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by Emily Carlson

 

Being left home alone on Halloween was the worst. Too old to trick or treat, too young to accompany her parents to whatever monster mash they were attending this year.

When the doorbell rang, she sighed, dragging the bowl of candy over to answer.

Three masked people rushed at her, holding knives out and pushing their way into her house. They crowded around, threatening her if she didn’t comply.

She smiled at the intruders, relishing the turn of their confidence to panic when sharp fangs emerged from her gums.

Maybe being stuck at home this year wouldn’t be so bad.

 

Emily Carlson

Emily Carlson is a queer writer, reader, and lover of monsters. Emily can be found on Twitter at @emiacarlson or by saying her name three times while looking in a mirror.

Kid Tax

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by Michelle Brett

 

“Hand over the candy, kid.”

Anthony trembled beneath the bully’s gaze. He clutched his basket closer and spluttered out some words.

“Please, no. It took me ages.”

The bully snorted, then glanced back at his cronies; their faces already stuffed with stolen treats.

“Now,” he hissed.

Anthony dropped the basket as he held back his tears. He ran from the alleyway, laughter following him out.

But once he’d turned the corner, the run became an amble. His superhero cape floated behind him in the wind.

Not long now.

Soon they’d start gorging themselves, then the poison would take its toll.

 

Michelle Brett

Michelle Brett is a New Zealand based author, writing horror, thriller, and speculative fiction. She has a Diploma in Applied Writing and is currently working towards a Bachelor in Communication. In her free time, she likes to question the choices of horror movie characters and report on historic crimes for a local paper.

Fresh Start

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by Andrew Anderson

 

The doorbell rang.

“So it begins,” muttered Ed, getting up to answer the door for his inaugural trick-or-treaters.

This was Ed’s first Halloween since moving to town, so he’d prepared a tray of rather lopsided homemade cakes, along with some assorted chocolates and lollies from the supermarket.

These kids were polite; not wishing to offend him, they grabbed a cake each and as much wrapped sugar as their buckets could carry. Ed knew they would wait until they were out of sight, then toss his cakes into the hedge.

That’s why he’d put the poison into the store-bought candy instead.

 

Andrew Anderson

Andrew Anderson (he/him) is a writer of fiction from Bathgate, Scotland. His work has previously been published by National Flash Fiction Day Press, Sampson Low Ltd., Selcouth Station Press, The Drabble, Black Hare Press, Eerie River Publishing, Paragraph Planet, Steering 23 Publications and Blood Song Books.

Halloween at the Morrison’s

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by Sophie Wagner

 

In Mateo’s opinion, Halloween was the best time of the year. On decorating day, his family would carve, hang skeletons and Mother would make meat pies.

Sadly, this year they started without him.

When he arrived home, Morrie was already carving a lopsided smile into a decapitated head. In the kitchen, Mother was busy chopping the rest of the body. He could already smell the pies in the oven.

“Sorry to start without you,” his dad called. “But you can join your brother, if you want.”

Mateo advanced on the bound man in the corner.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

 

Sophie Wagner

Sophie Wagner is an emerging student author who has had multiple short story and poetry publications. You can find her work at the Black Hare Press, The Macabre Ladies and For Women Who Roar. She hopes you have a horror filled day!

Harvest

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by Elle Jauffret

 

She always picked the ugliest pumpkin, the rotten one with the mouldy skin—disfigured, putrid, and asymmetrical.

She would carve through its decomposing shell with sharp nails—and dig through its flesh with bare hands.

Once its entrails removed, she would search through the stringy pulp for the blackest of seeds that she could plant.

She would sow them in the freshly ploughed ground of the paupers’ grave where Jane and John Does were buried, forgotten.

She would spit on the soil and chant in tongues. So that a year later, on October 31st, monsters would rise from its sprouts.

 

Elle Jauffret

Elle Jauffret is a French American writer and Californian attorney who writes across genres.

Website: ellejauffret.com

Twitter/Instagram @ellejauffret

Pumpkin Head

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by Pauline Yates

 

I’ve won ‘Best Halloween Display’ two years running, but while hanging decorations, my new neighbour distracts me. He likes my legs. I love his wide smile. Tempted, I suggest a private trick or treat before the judges arrive.

Invitation accepted, he asks what tricks I know. I show him my wax pumpkin heads. “They’re moulded with a machete,” I say as his head drops to the floor. The trick is finding the right shape. His head is perfect. Dunking him in wax, I carve out his wide smile and hang him next to the previous neighbours; a winning hat trick.

 

Pauline Yates

Queensland writer, Pauline Yates, loves to explore the dark side of humanity through her writing. Her stories appear in multiple publications and anthologies, and she is the winner to the 2020 AHWA short story competition.

Website: paulineyates.com

Last Kiss

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by Caoimhin Kennedy

 

My daughter kisses me. “Heading home,” she says.

Since my cancer, Carrie gives out my treats on Halloween.

I roll my wheelchair to the porch’s edge and watch her taillights dwindle into the night. That’s when I see the girl on my lawn.

“Hello,” the little girl says. She’s dressed as a goat.

“No more candy, I’m afraid!”

“Quite alright,” she answers. “Tell me, did you enjoy your last kiss with your daughter?”

Her eyes go ablaze.

I gape. “You’ve come for me…”

The Devil smirks childishly, in the distance a horn blares; metal crunches, “No. Not for you.”

 

Caoimhin Kennedy

Originally from Ireland, Caoimhin Kennedy has always had a passion for telling stories. He currently lives in Ottawa, Canada, working in the engineering sector. His works can be found in a publication of Every Day Fiction and in multiple Black Hare Press anthologies.