Jack-o-Lantern (youngsters:horror, 2027 words)
Author: Hulsey	Added: Oct 27 2003	Views/Reads: 7103/3312	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A spooky Halloween tale!

Halloween was here and I should have been overjoyed, but I was not. My
parents looked at me proudly, as I shivered in the passageway. I was 
dressed in my vampire costume, and holding my prized pumpkin. 

Bobby Shaw, my next-door neighbour, trundled along the icy path, his
Frankenstein costume as immaculate as ever, his pumpkin twice the size 
of mine. “Hello Mr and Mrs Francis. Hello Peter,” he said, his icy 
breath visible. 

My mother fidgeted with my scarf, mumbling how cold it was, and
embarrassing me by saying, “I don't want my little angel to catch his 
death of cold now do I?” She seemed to forget that I was now ten years 
old and not a child anymore. She kissed me on the cheek and I 
reluctantly followed in the footsteps of Bobby, joining up with the 
other trick or treaters, who were waiting beneath the lamppost, and 
stamping their cold feet. 

“Did you have to bring the little twerp?” moaned Vernon Greer, the
oldest and tallest in the party, who wore the mask of a ghoul. “He 
ought to be with kids his own age.” 

Bobby Shaw slapped me around the head before answering. “I didn't have
any choice did I? My folks made me take him; besides, he has no friends 
his own age.” 

“Well he's not coming with us,” insisted Vernon. 

I knew by now my role for the night. I was to walk well behind the
group, and to receive only the candies that the others did not like. I 
followed the annual routine, waiting out of sight, while the others 
collected their rewards. Woe betide anyone who never coughed up. Their 
windows would be pelted with eggs, or dog poo would be pushed through 
their letterbox. 

I jumped up and down on the spot, attempting to ward of the cold, as the
snow numbed my face. My eyes followed the large party who were across 
the road. They were being led by a short, stocky man with huge 
sideburns, and wearing a top hat and cloak. In his gloved hand, he 
carried a huge lantern, even larger than Bobby Shaw's. Towards the rear 
of the group was a small boy with red hair, his face as white as snow. 
His eyes and lips were as black as coal. The boy, who looked about my 
age, wore a skeleton costume. 

I decided to introduce myself and jogged across the road. “Hello, I'm
Peter.” 

The boy ignored me and walked on, following behind the rest of the
group.   One by one, they looked over their shoulders, their faces 
resembling the small boy's. There was a mixture of ghouls, vampires, 
skeletons, witches and ghastly-looking dwarfs. I scrambled after them, 
curious as to whom these people were. 

I kept pace with the small boy, who continued to ignore me, “What school
do you go to?” I asked. 

Again, he chose to disregard me, the only sound being the crisp
footsteps as they plodded through the laying snow. The man with the 
lantern led us into the grounds of a large house. He approached the 
door and pounded on it loudly. 

A grey-haired man who was wearing a red silk dressing gown answered and
regarded the group like something on the bottom of his shoe. His large 
Alsatian dog manoeuvred its head around the door and growled. “Yes?” 

“Trick or treat?” 

The voice coming from the man with the lantern was deep and rasping.
“Beggars! Bleeding beggars, that's all you are. Now go away or I'll set 
my dog onto you.” 

The door was slammed shut in our faces. The man in the top hat turned
and placed his hand upon the shoulder of a woman, who was wearing a 
witch's costume and holding a broom. The witch stepped forward, her 
wrinkled hand reaching out for the door handle. She stepped inside the 
house and a deep groan spread throughout the party, as they turned and 


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