The Halloween Challenge

Taunted by some older neighborhood boys,
my brother Brodie and I took up the gauntlet
and agreed to spend a night in an old house
said to be haunted by spirits of the ancient family Strauss.
Rumors of their diabolical behavior ran rampant
through the village, claiming they were agents
of Satan.

On the appointed night, under Saturn’s influence,
the full moon silhouetted the old gabled chateau
high on the hill, overlooking the grey and melancholy
waters of the ocean with thunderclouds billowing
in the west.

Critters scurried into the brush as we crept
along the path of broken stepping-stones, overgrown
with moss and weeds, leading to the main entrance.
The rotting wooden door creaked on its rusty hinges
as we pushed it open and were soon accosted
by the pervasive pungent odor of mold while we waded
through a mass of cobwebs.

Moonbeams streaming through broken windows
painted grotesque patterns on the floor and walls.
The bulging whites of Brodie’s eyes were also visible
when we heard shuffling sounds on the second floor.
Then there was the clanking sound of chains.
The pallor on his face portrayed
stark terror.

The shadowy figure of a man
with demonic features
emerged into the moonlight.

When the phantom spirit
started toward us,
we could hear it
uttering epithets
in some ancient tongue.

We both did a sharp pirouette
and made a rapid escape.

After all, everyone knows that
discretion is the better part of valor.