The Endless Halloween

Thank you for returning to The Endless Halloween. Judging is about to get started.


Eerie music begins to play . . .  


It's nighttime now, and it’s a night charged with brooding spirits. They seem to pass among us and flutter within the teeming dark. It’s felt like this before, though not so often. Once a year perhaps, on Hallow’s Eve.


Garbed in black cloaks, we venture across the field, careful as we walk beside the lonely graveyard. In the distance a mansion stands, crumbling and crooked, and the ruin of a wrought-iron fence allows access to its grounds. But we do not pass between the bent spears or over the broken stone. That is a place for another time.


Instead, we wait from afar. A circle is formed and our small flames glow from our candles, hinting at the faces beneath our cloaks.


Mist hovers low. Trilling laughter announces from scattered distances, and we catch sight of twitching bare branches, all cast under a clouded moon’s light.


Still we wait. Minutes more and no one moves. And then each tiny flame flattens at once as if from an unseen wind. The flames flick back to life.


We all perk up as a disembodied voice begins to speak:


With Halloween far ahead,
We gather on a summer night,
To whisper with the dead
And share our tales of fright.

Together we go with candles lit,
Mist curling ‘round our feet,
Hear the words that we have writ,
Now come and take a seat.

Though it’s only once a year,
The pumpkins now glow orange,
And their jagged faces leer,
For it’s every week . . .


Before the age-old question of what rhymes with ‘orange’ can be answered, the last line is cut off by a raspy, dry panting of sorts. We look around, but there’s nothing to see. The panting turns to choking and the choking becomes wheezing. Our group shares confused glances. Finally, someone or something wretches. An instant of silence goes before a sound like the smacking of lips.


A black cat launches from the mist and perches on a rock just above the white shroud.


Sorry about that. Hrhmm! Doublecat here. Had something caught in my throat. Now where were we?
Oh, yes! Though there may be more among us than our eyes can see, three entrants have come prepared with disparate tellings of doom and despair.


The first, a tale of ominous, noxious scents carried on the wind and what terrors may burn from distant fires.



The second, making every word count, a tale of abduction and waiting to find what’s in store.



And last of all, our third tale brings us to question the way our shadows stir.




Three fantastic stories, but only one can be named the winner. For any choosing to pay us a visit, I recommend you check out every one. You won't be disappointed.

To the entrants, we understand that hours are involved in the creating and refining of your stories all for each to be enjoyed for a fraction of that time. Thank you so much for entering. You made my job very tough, and I'm not joking when I saw I deliberated over this for hours.

At the end of the day, I finally settled on a winner. The ending really sold it. Congratulations, WriterAngel for your winning entry




Ordinarily I wouldn't give the prompts for the following week (6/11) until the day after judging, but these stories had me so excited to see more that I'm presenting the prompts now. I'll also be upping the word count limit to 3,000 to match what "SCREAMS!!!"  allowed.

Please come prepared next time with a story that follows one of the following prompts:

Friends/Family gathered at a loved one's deathbed

or

A traveling salesman

Until we meet again . . .

at . . .