“Then Emily came. She had great powers of second sight and she knew that we were sleeping below the stream coming off this mountain. She built a dam and moved the stream out of the way. Then she dug through our stony prison and let us see the light again.
“We thanked her and vowed ever to be the brothers that she never had. We helped her to find and grow magical plants and we taught her many things. However, no one can escape destiny, and we could not prevent her from being killed.
“Before she died she asked us to look after you. She said we could help you in many ways.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said Brian, not knowing if he wanted to banish these spirits or befriend them. “What magical powers do you have?”
“We can only be seen or heard by our friends, and, at present, that means only you. We can travel anywhere in the world and back in the blink of an eye. We can walk through walls.”
Each being then introduced himself in turn by pointing to his fleshly part. The one who called himself Eyes said: “Eyes can see for hundreds of miles. Ears can hear for hundreds of miles. Touch can feel the vibrations from feet approaching hundreds of miles away. Taste can detect poison as well as superior food. Smell can tell who is present within hundreds of miles, can distinguish between people, and can even tell if people are related to one another.”
The one with the nose said: “But these are not magical powers to us; they are how we are made. To us these talents are no more magical than the operation of your own senses.”
Brian stroked his chin. “These talents, as you call them, could be very valuable to a military man. One would never need scouts or spies. You would be better than a whole regiment of scouts.”
“We are pleased to be of service, Brian,” Ears said. “When you need us, just pound your fists together. We will see and hear it, and we will be there.”
And, with that, the five brothers vanished.
“Well, wouldn’t you know it,” Brian thought, “I’ve got an inheritance after all, and me an orphan. Who would have thought.”
*
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Chapter 10
“Billy Carver”
Jason Mueller and C. L. Foster
North Judson, Indiana/Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA
Billy watched the ghastly scene play out before his eyes in the low light. Halloween was his favorite holiday of the year. He loved costumes, candy, and being scared. His parents had told him he couldn’t go trick-or-treating this year because he was fourteen now and “too old”. How could you be too old for fun? he thought. He decided a Halloween movie could be fun. Despite what his parents said, he was going to enjoy tonight.
The doorbell rang. He stopped watching the grisly murder-in-progress and stalked to the door. Yanking the door wide open, he was face-to-face with a princess. "Hi," she cooed, standing there in all her glorious splendor. “Trick or treat?”
“Oh look, a beautiful princess!” Billy exclaimed with well-practiced fake happiness, dumping a handful of Tootsie Rolls into the bag she held up to him. Her crown slid forward on her head, causing her to jerk the bag around and spilling the chocolate treats on the porch. Annoyed, but still polite, like any good boy should be, he helped her pick them up and shoved them into her bag.
“Umm, nice costume. You look really scary,” she said as he slammed the door ending the disturbance.
I don’t even have a costume on! Stupid little kids always trying to kiss an older kid’s ass. Lame, he thought nearly speaking aloud to the empty room out of pure aggravation. How dare she interrupt his Halloween movie?
The movie was immediately unpaused as he stepped back into the living room. The killer wielded a butcher knife and continued finishing off his victims. Billy watched in utter fascination as the killer did his work slashing and cutting, sending blood splatters in crazy patterns. The folks on CSI would give up in confusion or make a case-study out of his work if they saw it. He carved their faces, turning them into human jack-o'lanterns; the killer was going to make sure they celebrated Halloween too.
Looks like they get a trick and the killer gets a treat, Billy thought with a chuckle.
Billy watched in silent awe as the killer, who he could never quite see, dragged the bodies to the dining room and placed them at the table. The father in his chair at the end, the mother to his left, and another young woman slumped lazily in her chair to the right. Happy little family.
Billy wondered if the young woman had a brother that she treated the same way his sick bitch of a sister always did him. Walking around half-naked, taunting him with comments like, “What are you looking at, perv?” when flashing him, sneaking her boyfriends into the house, and breaking all the rules. When mom and dad were out at the Knights of Columbus, she would screw whatever loser dredges she found on the street anywhere from the couch, kitchen, and even Billy’s own room. The poster child of perfection to her folks, always going to confession and pretending to be their angel, but took every chance she could to walk in on him in the bathroom or randomly touch him in ways a sister should not touch her baby brother. He was never any trouble, but always treated like the bad one. I bet the killer wouldn’t take that!, Billy mused angrily.
The killer finally had his project in place and went rummaging through the house trying to find candles. After what seemed like forever to Billy, the candles were lit and glowing on top of their heads. The killer screamed and cursed waving the knife like a conductor of a twisted symphony. Something must not be right with his creation.
He left the family in place and came back with an assortment of tools. In true festive pumpkin-carving technique, the killer hummed happily as he cut a section of scalp off the top of the father’s head, exposing the skull. Then, using a small saw he attempted to cut the top off the skull but the stupid head flopped back and forth. There is nothing duct tape can’t fix! The exasperated killer taped the father’s head to the chair to steady it and went back to work with the skull. Layers of bone seemed to disappear in seconds with the handy saw.
The killer then used a spoon straight from the kitchen to scoop out the insides of the skull. Instead of pumpkin seeds, pulp, and slimy fibrous strands, it was brain matter, blood, and nerves. What once served the family spaghetti or mashed potatoes, now served up daddy’s brains. To complete the job properly, the killer also removed the father’s eyes. With a sickening splat, they hit the hardwood floor, bounced slightly, then rolled under the table leaving a sticky red trail behind.
Once that part was complete, the killer placed the candle inside the hollowed out cranium and stood back to admire his handy-work. Yes, much better. Now the light glowed through like a true jack-o’lantern. The killer moved next to the mother, leaving the young woman to be the finale of his collection of Halloween-themed trophies.
DiiiiiiiiiingDoooooooooooooooong!
Dammit!! Another sudden ring of the unwelcomed doorbell disgusted Billy. He had purposely shut off the porch light when the first beggar went away in the hopes of being left alone for the rest of the night. Why couldn’t these stupid trick-or-treaters just go away? Didn’t they realize they were ruining Billy’s Halloween movie?
He stalked angrily to the door and flung it open and there on the porch stood Andrew, one of his sisters many conquests. “Hey douche bag, where’s your sister?” he asked with his usual look of lazy contempt. He didn’t care about anything or anyone. Pathetic loser.
“She’s kinda busy right now, but you can wait for her if you want.” Billy said, stepping back to allow Andrew to enter. Andrew strutted in, the typical jock with his “I’m-better-than-you” mentality.
“Why are all the lights off in here? What are you doing sittin’ the dark? Pullin’ your pud?” the idiot mocked.
“No I was just watching a movie.”
“You don’t even have the TV on
dumbass.” Andrew sneered. Billy just wanted Andrew to leave; he needed to get back to the movie. The killer was just getting to the good part. Andrew, standing there like an idiot, was wasting his precious time.
The movie started again much to Billy’s dismay as he watched the killer and the blade dance through the darkness wildly toward Andrew hoping to add to the congregation in the dining room. The killer jumped onto Andrews back slashing away in a rage but the brute strength of the football player was too much for him. In a rush of pain and adrenaline, Andrew flipped the killer sprawling him to the floor.
“What the hell!” Andrew screamed at the silent figure on the floor. He staggered to the wall, fumbling in the darkness for the light switch. Light flooded the room, causing him momentary blindness. Once his eyes began to work again, he slowly approached the body on the floor.
“Billy? My God, BILLY?!” With a quivering blood covered arm, he nudged Billy’s shoulder, but there was no movement. Then he noticed the tip of the knife sticking out of Billy’s side.
“Oh shit! Billy, I’m sorry!” Andrew sobbed as he turned the body over and gasped at the horrible damage the knife had done to Billy's body. It wasn’t nice and neat like on TV or in movies. The knife had penetrated Billy’s little body and the force of the impact caused the blade to slash sideways, skewering him. Billy was a mangled, bloody mess and his barren eyes stared straight at Andrew.
Freaking out, he called for Billy’s sister. “Amy!” he shouted over and over.
He staggered upstairs finding a bloody mess on her bed. Horrified, he made his way back downstairs and headed to the kitchen. When he entered the dining room he found Amy and her parents sitting at the table with mutilated faces and a candle burning in their father’s skull in a macabre tribute to the night of tricks or treats.
“My God, Billy. What have you done?”
Andrew pissed his designer jeans and ran from the house screaming incoherently into the darkness. He tripped and fell onto the lawn. Little trick-or-treaters gathered around watching him curl up in the yard, sobbing and screaming. A miniature Iron Man silently walked up to the older boy; he looked down with vacant eyes behind the plastic mask, with all his might kicked Andrew in the face. Then a little girl dressed as Hannah Montana joined in with tiny swift kicks to his body. Then Batman, Spongebob, the princess, a zombie, and many others descended on the boy. Within minutes, the swarm disbanded and skipped back off to their night of fun, happily shouting, “Trick or treat!”
Andrew lay dead on the grass. Just another gruesome Halloween decoration.
*
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Chapter 11
“Haunting Irony”
Joseph Alan Gharagheer
Toledo, Ohio, USA
Lacey hated Halloween. The events that transpired in her life on that day were almost unspeakable, and caused her complete and utter ruin. The only thing the poor girl wanted more than to forget about it altogether was to put an end to the thing that made her hate the day in the first place.
In order to have a better understanding of why Lacey felt so strongly about a day that most people associated with fun and happiness, one must first be provided with her gruesome back story. It was several years prior that Lacey’s comfortable life was ripped away from her. Everything she had come to know in growing up, every piece of her padded lifestyle, and every true smile she had ever had no longer meant a thing thanks to this very day.
Two years ago, shortly after Lacey had turned eighteen years old, she still lived with her father. She was fresh out of High School, and she had just begun attending a local college, but she saw no point in moving out just yet. While many adolescents wanted nothing more throughout High School than to escape their overbearing parents, she actually cared deeply for her father, and their relationship since her Mother’s passing had only grown stronger. He singlehandedly raised Lacey on his own, and they had the strongest of bonds, and really, she saw no reason to leave him to loneliness, at least not while she was still practically a child.
Lacey loved her father more than anything else in her life, and she hoped to never lose him. Unfortunately for the poor girl, two Halloweens ago, that was exactly what transpired. Her father was murdered while she was out at a party and it shattered her world. What was worse was that it wasn’t something as simple as being shot. Instead, the man’s body was ripped to shreds as if it had been gnashed apart by some kind of monster. Strips of flesh were strewn about the house when Lacey found what was left of her father, and there was barely enough of his face left for her to discern his identity. His heart was completely gone, with no trace to where it could have been. Seeing such carnage in her home destroyed the innocent girl that she was. As everything she held dear was ripped to shreds around her, she fell into an emotional darkness that she could never truly climb out from again. Despite all of the sarcasm and negativity that most people her age carried around with them, she had been a very positive person, however, her spirit died along with the rest of the goodness in her life.
It wasn’t long before Lacey dropped out of college and got an apartment of her own. It was tough, but she couldn’t live in that house any longer. The memories she had were too painful, and it was bad enough with the vivid images of what became of her dear father burned into her mind without passing through the room. She could still imagine the bloodstained walls and carpet, and calling that haunted place home wasn’t something she could bring herself to do.
The following Halloween she spent her time with her childhood friend Rachel. Although she had alienated herself from just about everyone that she had associated with before her traumatic experience, Rachel still stood by her. They had been friends for so much of their lifetime, and she agreed to give up having any fun on Halloween night and instead of going out with other people their age, she stayed over at Lacey’s place to keep an eye on her.
*
The trauma had many negative effects on Lacey, but it didn’t make her unreasonable. It wasn’t like she was necessarily frightened that she was in any danger by being alone. She didn’t think that there was someone out to get her, especially because the attack on her father was so clearly caused by some kind of animal. She didn’t fear that anything would happen to her, but her own mind was scary enough that she would rather have someone she trusted nearby to distract her. As the day had drawn nearer, she felt herself being pulled closer and closer to the axis of insanity and she needed to keep her emotions and mind intact if she wanted to successfully make it through the horrid holiday.
*
Her mind did get the best of her, however, and images of her frayed father filled her mind, giving her migraines to accompany her emotional pain. She ended up laying down to rest while Rachel promised to remain in the living room in case she was needed. Lacey filled her feathered pillows with tears much like those they had grown so accustomed to throughout the year since her patriarch’s passing. Memories of the man who raised her carried her off into a saddened slumber, and she slept for several hours before waking.
Lacey woke up knowing her life couldn’t get any worse, and she would have been a lucky girl if that had only been the truth. At midnight she fell to her knees in her living room, her psyche in shambles, viewing a repeat of what had happened to her the previous year. Rachel’s golden blonde hair was the most recognizable thing, strewn about the room, stuck to different furniture and walls by chunks of bloodied scalp. Lacey fell forward, her hands shaking above Rachel’s open ribcage. Despite the gore, Lacey had to search. She had to know. Through everything, all of the torn flesh and bloodied, broken bones, she couldn’t find her old friend’s heart anywhere. She simultaneously vomited and cried uncontrollably until
help arrived.
This year was going to be different. Whatever monster haunted her, she wouldn’t let it get away with it again. She had left her old town for a year after the incident with Rachel, only just now returning on her least favorite day, Halloween. She made her presence known, certain that whoever it was that wanted to continuously torture her soul would come for her. She was counting on it anyways. She checked into a motel room and she waited. After everything she had been through, her mind had become her enemy. She tried to keep herself steady, but the smallest of triggers had the capability of tossing her into a relapse. On this day, however, she vowed to keep herself together. She had to get revenge. For her father, and for Rachel, she had to exact vengeance. It wasn’t an option. She would end this monster’s reign this year no matter what.
She sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for something to happen. It was Halloween. Something had to happen. Anything else would be inconsistent. The silence was deafening to her ears, but it was important that she concentrated, or at least tried.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three short knocks came at the door very suddenly, which made Lacey jump from her seat. She got up, feeling for the knife handle sticking up out of her boot to be sure it was still there and made her way to the door. Seeing that it was the sheriff, she opened the door. She let him in, and tried to listen as he explained that he was coming to check on her. He also tried to tell her that returning was a bad idea, but her mind was becoming clouded. She instantly got a terrible migraine and just as she thought she would pass out, clarity fell upon her instead.
Lacey suddenly remembered everything. She remembered how she used nothing more than her own teeth and nails to rip her father and friend to shreds. She remembered the feeling as her fingernails dug into their chests, ripping apart their warm flesh. She remembered the tears that left the eyes of the people who thought her a loved one. But most of all, she remembered the feeling of warm, beating hearts between her teeth. She licked her lips and a sickening smile spread across her face as she pounced on the unsuspecting sheriff.