HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Tara Tyler has honored me today with a horror post!

https://taratylertalks.blogspot.com/2018/10/hot-genres-horror-mashups.html

IT’S EVIL WE BRING

I await the hour

the darkest of night.

For under the brightest moon

I venture out to spread doom.

This warning I give.

Beware the wolf’s howl,

the swoosh of the witch’s flight,

and take heed the flutter of the bats wing.

Listen closely my dear

to the crunch of desiccated leaves

and the scurry of startled rodents

for I am as close as you fear.

Listen to the whispers.

Relish the cold.

Let it give you comfort

but remember, I am most bold.

Carry your lantern high

Protect its light.

But walk with haste

and confidence this night.

Just be prepared

To run for your life.

For I am swift

On this most blood thirsty night.

Forget the silver, and holy water has no sting.

For on All Hallows Eve

the monsters own the night

and it’s evil we bring!

Yolanda Renee © 2018

HAPPY Halloween!

ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN UNDERLAND

MY NEXT VICTIM THIS HALLOWEEN

IS DeANNA KNIPPLING!

Thanks, DeAnna, for agreeing to be part of the fun.

Without further ado presenting DeAnna's

Halloween Interview & Flash Fiction Challenge

1.      You're born on Halloween and have the ghostly evil super powers of one of the following: The Ghost from Poltergeist, The Frankenstein Monster, The Mummy, The most Evil of Witches, The Devil himself, Freddy Kruger, Pumpkin Head, Michael from Halloween, or Jason from Friday the 13^th. Alternatively, if you prefer, pick one of your own. Otherwise, tell us which one you would choose and why? No friendly ghosts allowed! You're to wreak havoc in this scenario!

I have inherited the power of...The Most Evil of All Witches! I've always been fascinated by them. On the one hand, they were slaughtered for hundreds or even thousands of years...but on the other hand, I've always wondered why. Why witches--why not, say, midwives or prostitutes? I realize that a lot of the time, the women who were killed were women who had a) property worth taking, and b) few or no male relatives to protect them. But now that we've legalized pot in Colorado, I've also been pondering:  what if one of the reasons that "witches" were targeted was that they distributed not just medicines like arbortifacients, but recreational drugs? As well as the knowledge to find, harvest, preserve, and use them? It's just supposition on my part, but it would explain why you hear about them acting weird and having orgies with the devils. You hear stuff that's almost as bad about pot, let alone other types of illegal drugs. Witch burnings as a covert Mafia war between church-sanctioned and independent drug dealers. Why not? It might be fun...

2.      The Zombie Apocalypse is going to occur this Halloween and for 48 hours, the world is thrown into chaos. Live through it and consider yourself lucky, you've been warned. What is your first step, especially as no one else knows or believes you? Do you leave family behind and seek shelter to ride it out, or do you try to save your family? How and why?

Oh, my family would believe me.  We've had an agreement for years that if one of us gets bitten by a zombie, the others will take them down as quickly and painlessly as possible.  We don't have bug-out bags and kits set up, but it's on our to-do lists.  I'm thinking about making them for Christmas presents at some point [she said, hoping her family isn't reading this].  At our old house, we were planning to go up to a certain reservoir stocked with fish; now that we're in the middle of moving, I'm not sure where we'd go.  I'll have to ask.

3.      Because of the time of your birth, (see the 1^st question) the angels have decided to forgive your sins and are offering to remedy one evil that now exists in the world, but only one! Which would you choose and why?

I'd like to tweak human nature just a leeeetle bit so that humanity can process the interconnection of more than five things at a time. See Robert J. Sawyer's Calculating God. In essence, humans may think we're smart, but we can't actually process the interconnections of more than five things at a time (which is 125 interconnections). The universe is far more complex than that, which leads to humanity failing to even understand how little it knows (and, I might add, how hypocritical we usually are). A planet with just a little less hypocrisy and a little more willingness to admit we're wrong? Super.

 4.      Why is Halloween a favorite holiday, or not a favorite, and if it isn't why did you participate in this query? Come on; tell us your biggest most secret Halloween fantasy!

FAVORITE. I've always liked it (I was one of those kids who always wanted to play dress up), but the reason it's a favorite is because of my daughter, who was born in October. Halloween has become a second birthday in which we set up a mini-haunted-house in the garage and pass out treats to anyone brave enough to run in and make a snatch-and-grab. We've done Frankenstein, hillbilly zombies, pirates, and other things. It's a ton of fun. This year, because we're in the middle of moving, we're going to do a normal trick-or-treat pass. Siiiiigh. Next year.

      Now the fun part: Finish the story. I've given you the first 100 words. Provide us with the rest, but please hold the number to 750 words or less. The winner will receive a $10 Amazon gift card. The contest will be judged by another lover of the horror genre, the person to be announced later. The winner will be posted no later than a week after Halloween!

DESPERATION HOLLER

Jerry sauntered along Desperation Holler Road that earlier echoed with the excited shouts of ghosts and ghouls as the children scrambled from house to house in colorful and frightening costumes.

Dusk dissolved into the blackest of nights as the little monsters disappeared into the shelter of the brightly lit houses with their chocolate goodies.

Jerry smiled, even suppressed laughter, because he knew there was no refuge, not in Desperation Holler on this most evil of Halloweens.

Concealed by the dark limbs of deformed trees and invasive ivy, the innocuous little cabin looked abandoned, but Jerry knew better. 

The witches abode . . .

All he had to do was get inside, find the trap door to the cellar (it was supposed to be in one of the bedrooms, although that homeless slut he’d caught had claimed not to know which room it was in), and climb down an old wooden ladder.

The chest would be the only thing left in the cellar: the glass jars full of dead babies and demons' blood had already been taken out by the group of teenagers who had found the trap door last week, and Jerry had already found their hiding spot after he had caught Mary digging through his trash three days ago. He had been so elated that he had put a quick end to the girl and her other little homeless friends. There was fun and then there was what he'd been sent here to do, and now he was all out of time for fun.

He must have gone past that place a hundred times and not even suspected.

He whistled as he swung his keyring around the tip of his finger.

He did a little jig as he jumped onto the front stoop and selected the key with the grinning skull at the end. The key slid into the door lock and opened it smoothly. He danced inside and closed the door, closing the rotting curtains with a flourish.

He laughed when he saw the cross-stitched embroidery on the wall: BLESSINGS ON THIS HOUSE and a cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney, flower pots on the stoop, and an embroidery spiderweb stretched between chimney and roof. The cabin was a little old ladies' home, all armchairs and doilies and delicate end tables simply begging for a cup and saucer. Spiderwebs covered the furniture like drop cloths, torn in places where the teenagers had stopped to playact a tea party in the witches' chairs, pinkies sticking out as they spoke in clumsy accents.

He skipped into the back hallway, jiggling door handles as he went. Broken windows, leaves, sticks, and animal nests. Footprints on bare floors, rotting quilts on beds, the old gray tinsel of fat cobs long dead. The place was so old it had no indoor bathrooms. There'd be an outhouse somewhere in the back, so long unused that it would smell almost sweet. Maybe it would still have an almanac or catalog by the door.

The last room, then. He flung open the door. The bed had been tossed to the wall and the trap door flung open. A narrow old ladder peeked out from under the floorboards.

Jerry picked another key from the ring, this one marked with a candle held by a severed hand. He knelt at the edge of the trap door and turned the key in the darkness.

A faint green glow appeared in the cellar: all clear. Yet who knew better than he to trust witches! He ignored the ladder and jumped down, landing as cleverly and quietly as a cat hunting a mouse.

The shelves were bare of all but circles in the dust. The cellar ran the length of the house; if the dust spots on the shelves were any indication, the homeless shits had another cache of jars somewhere. When he was done tonight he’d have to go looking for them.

And use them all up, before they went bad. He grinned.

An old, iron-bound chest waited coquettishly for him at the other end of the cellar. Splashes of old mud covered the bottom of the chest; it was heavy, sinking down into the floor. Around it lay scraps of old carpet and straw mats, marked with small, muddy footprints.

He sang a little ditty about something something pretty, something something pity and didn’t even mind that he’d forgotten most of the words, and couldn’t remember whether the singer had used a fish knife or a surgeon’s scalpel on the women as he’d killed them.

The skeleton key flashed in his hand as he pushed it into the lock and turned it.

The top of the chest popped open like a jack in the box. Jerry hopped backward, and the small claws missed him.

He cooed, he tickled, he scooped it up with a tattered old piece of rag rug from the floor so it wouldn’t scratch him, he closed the lid.

And then he turned around just as the eerie green thieves' light went out.

He tucked the bundle under his arm and pulled out a third key, this one marked with the handle of a knife, and held it before him.

The trap door at the other end of the cellar slammed shut. The squirming, sacred bundle fell apart in his arms, scattering into fragments of old mud onto the floor.

Jerry cursed, an old curse that was supposed to be good against witches. He’d suddenly remembered something bad, very bad.

There hadn’t been any spiderwebs in the cellar.

Behind him, the chest lid creaked.

****

Thanks so much DeAnna, That was thrilling!

DeAnna says she would happily give away an ebook to one lucky commenter!  Your choice of A MURDER OF CROWS (short horror stories), ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN UNDERLAND (zombies), and TALES TOLD UNDER THE COVERS (middle-grade genre stories).  

Alice's Adventures in Underland: The Queen of Stilled Hearts

by DeAnna Knippling

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alice Pleasance Liddell whose father ran Christ Church College at Oxford University. One of Dean Liddell’s friends was a man named Charles Dodgson, a lecturer in mathematics and amateur photographer who would eventually become known as Lewis Carroll.

Once upon a time, an outbreak of a virulent disease known as zombieism spread across Great Britain. What made it so deadly was that it had two phases—the earlier phase infected the victim’s bloodstream, making them infectious but not necessarily mad; the latter phase occurred upon death, when the victim was prevented from joining the souls in the afterlife and condemned to remain upon the Earth—which had the understandable effect of enraging them to the point of infecting every human in sight.

At first, the undead were considered to be lost to both Heaven and Earth, and regularly burnt to cinders in large pits throughout the countryside; then, the Italian Filippo Pacini developed a serum that, if ingested early enough and regularly thereafter, allowed the undead to fight off the worst effects of the infection. The Infected and the undead were treated with serum on a regular basis, and society returned to normal—except for a few curious customs regarding the undead, including the requirement to be shackled at all times, for the safety of the living.

A curious fact of the times was that zombies, being dead, were seen to have few legal rights. They were unable to enter into legal contracts or own property—even themselves. A zombie without a de facto owner was a dead zombie—collected by the Government and humanely destroyed.

Protected zombies were often employed as servants. They were certainly not slaves.

Once upon a time, Mrs. Liddell wanted a picture taken of her three daughters by the most fashionable photographer in Oxford…even if he was a zombie.

Buy HERE!

*****

DeAnna Knippling lives in Colorado with her family and probably spends too much time thinking about ways to hypothetically scare her friends with horror stories. 

 Everyone, no matter how jaded, has something that gets under their skin, is her theory.  Her latest book is Alice's Adventures in Underland: The Queen of Stilled Hearts, a zombie tale about the real Alice from Alice in Wonderland.  You can find out more about her at www.WonderlandPress.com.

Connect with DeAnna here:
dknippling@gmail.com
@dknippling

Goodreads
www.WonderlandPress.com
www.facebook.com/deanna.knippling

Her new collection of short horror stories, A MURDER OF CROWS, is out now! You can get a copy here. 

*****

It's only the 16th - plenty of time to enter the

WEP - Halloween Flash Fiction Challenge

Youthful Frights vs. Adult Fears

Come on, I dare you!

DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE!

MY NEXT VICTIM THIS HALLOWEEN

IS CATHRINA CONSTANTINE!

Thanks, Cathrina, for agreeing to be part of the fun.

Presenting Cathrina's

Halloween Interview & Flash Fiction Challenge

         1. You're born on Halloween and have the ghostly evil super powers of one of the following: The Ghost from Poltergeist, The Frankenstein Monster, The Mummy, The most Evil of Witches, The Devil himself, Freddy Kruger, Pumpkin Head, Michael from Halloween, or Jason from Friday the 13^th. Alternatively, if you prefer, pick one of your own. Otherwise, tell us which one you would choose and why? No friendly ghosts allowed! You're to wreak havoc in this scenario!

Call me Crista, a cute name for a wicked witch. I like being in control of those around me, and my potent incantations radiate from the pits of hell. I demand to be pampered and seduced by those of my choosing. It’s fun to watch as boys and even girls bend to my every desire. But once, Dredal tried to take what was mine. Poor Dredal.

    2.   The Zombie Apocalypse is going to occur this Halloween and for 48 hours, the world is thrown into chaos. Live through it and consider yourself lucky, you've been warned. What is your first step, especially as no one else knows or believes you? Do you leave family behind and seek shelter to ride it out, or do you try to save your family? How and why?

Even though me family doesn’t believe me, I love them and can’t leave them behind. They argue, but I convince them it’s only for two days. Think of it as a mini vacation, hahahaa. And to pacify my insanity, they agree and we pack up the SUV with life saving supplies, food, water, guns, and ammo to last for 48 hours. Then we hightail it up to the remote section of the Adirondack Mountains. Hopefully away from deadly seeking Zombies. We barricade ourselves into a safe house for the long haul. We make a pact. If one of use is turned, we know what we must do. Will we live through the Apocalypse? Who knows for sure. But we’ll live and die together.

      3.  Because of the time of your birth, (see the 1^st question) the angels have decided to forgive your sins and are offering to remedy one evil that now exists in the world, but only one! Which would you choose and why?

Hatred. Being the most evil of witches, and seeking repentance, the angels have allowed me to cast a Unity Spell of Love and Peace. If hatred is banished from the world, I believe people may actually live in somewhat harmony.

     4. Why is Halloween a favorite holiday, or not a favorite, and if it isn't why did you participate in this query? Come on; tell us your biggest most secret Halloween fantasy!

I love Halloween and all its scariness. Not precisely the bloody knife in my gut kind of gore, but suspense and spooky tales. I’d be awesome to witness a paranormal event, as long as I didn’t have a heart attack in the process.

     Now the fun part: Finish the story. I've given you the first 100 words. Provide us with the rest, but please hold the number to 750 words or less. The winner will receive a $10 Amazon gift card. The contest will be judged by another lover of the horror genre, the person to be announced later. The winner will be posted no later than a week after Halloween!

DESPERATION HOLLER

Jerry sauntered along Desperation Holler Road that earlier echoed with the excited shouts of ghosts and ghouls as the children scrambled from house to house in colorful and frightening costumes.

Dusk dissolved into the blackest of nights as the little monsters disappeared into the shelter of the brightly lit houses with their chocolate goodies.

Jerry smiled, even suppressed laughter, because he knew there was no refuge, not in Desperation Holler on this most evil of Halloweens.

Concealed by the dark limbs of deformed trees and invasive ivy, the innocuous little cabin looked abandoned, but Jerry knew better. 

The witches abode oozed ghastly spells. Seeping through the cracks and crevices of the weathered planks and windows. Jerry walked through the mist and breathed in evil like a tantalizing spice.

His every nerve ending fed on the despicable incantations, filling him with power. Jerry turned to look at the innocent road where families struggled to get their sugar-high monsters into bed. Again, his mouth tweaked in an untoward grin. Little did they fathom what was coming to devour them.  Although, not their souls. Souls must be freely given.

Jerry inhaled the mists fragrance to determine what was expected of him.  His body shuddered in anticipation, for the night had just begun. He mutely chuckled deciphering the intricate spells. Estelle, Crista, and Bettina planned on binding Desperation Holler: To pluck out naive children’s spirits to keep them young and immortal.

“Knock, knock. I’m here.” Jerry stood outside the door. He heard shuffling and gasps. “My lovely ladies. Please invite me in.”

“We don’t need your help this year. Go away.” He recognized Estelle’s voice.

“Estelle, dearest. It’s been centuries. I miss are little scuffles.”

Silence.

The door whipped open and Jerry was immediately speared in the chest. His hands wrapped around the lance as the witches dragged him inside.

“We were expecting you.” Cackled Estelle. “Don’t fight the potion that just entered your blood stream. Soon you’ll be all mine.”

“Not fair, Estelle,” said Bettina with disdain. “He’ll be all ours.”

“Very clever.” He gritted his teeth trying to pull out the cumbersome lance. On the floor laid skeletal remains, withered and grizzled. The clothes clearly made them teenager. “I see you’ve already started. And without me.”

“Be a good boy, Jerry, and we’ll leave you a little treat,” Crista said. The provocative witch with flowing red hair drew new. She latched onto his blood spewed lips. “Mmmm…you taste divine.” Her tongue lapped over his mouth, rinsing the blood.

“These teenagers came knocking, looking for a trick or treat. We gave them both.” Estelle chortled. “But it’s not enough to keep us in the lifestyle we’re accustomed to. You’ve been stingy, Jerry. Not letting us stay and play. This Hallows Eve, we’re prepared.”

Jerry’s knees buckled to the floor.

“Soon the children on Desperation Holler will be walking through that door and we’ll have a feast,” Estelle said over her shoulder as she scuttled to a bubbling cauldron. “One final ingredient is needed. Jerry’s head.” The witches each stirred the boiling pot while chanting. “Who wants to do the honor?”

“Me, me!” Crista jumped up and down like an exited child.

“I’m the oldest,” Bettina said. “Besides, it’s my turn.”

Crista’s bottom lip turned down into a pout.

“Why don’t you both indulge,” Estelle said, a nefarious smile carved into her face.

Bettina and Crista walked to the back of the cabin and grabbed a sickle, used for harvesting wheat in days gone by.

“Isn’t it ironic,” Estelle said, “the grim reaper will get beheaded by his own sickle.” They snickered.

“Thank you girls. I’ve been looking for that,” he said, dripping with sarcasm.

“Such a waste of man flesh,” Crista said, hauling the heavy blade. “This weighs a ton.”

“It will take the three of you to swing it.” Jerry looked up to where Estelle seemed intent to watch the furling charms flow out the windows. Blood laced his hands and again painted his lips. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay in this human condition. 

The three witches toted his sickle and hewed it towards his head. The blade spliced through his neck in one ugly stroke.

But his head remained intact.

“What kind of farce is this?” Crista spat.

Suddenly the lance melted from Jerry’s chest, he straightened with a shit-eating grin. “Ladies, it’s always a pleasure. Thank you for letting me feed off your wickedness. See you in hell.”

He raised his arms and the cabin exploded to smithereens.

*****
Thank you for your participation, Cathrina! 

Love your answers and your flash was amazing. 

Once again, Jerry had the last word. 

Readers one comment could win YOU a copy of

DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE!

Blurb:

Sixteen-year-old Leocadia arrives home from school to find her mom's body. Unaware that the killer still lingers, she rushes to her mother's side, only to be grabbed from behind and then everything fades to black.

After a year of retrograde amnesia and battling personal demons, Leo's dreams are getting worse--she's starting to remember. More bodies are discovered and they seem to be oddly linked to her mom's unsolved homicide.

When Leo allows her friend, Henry to drag her into the haunted Lucien Mansion, misty ghosts appear, ghosts that just might lead to her mother's murderer.

Will Leo let her memories threaten her into a relapse or, will she fight to find her mother's killer - only to become his next victim?

*****

Cathrina Constantine resides in Western New York with her husband, five children, two Labrador Retrievers and two cats. When not with her family, reading, or stationed at the computer, you will find her walking in the backwoods with her dogs, conjuring up a new tale.

You can find Constantine here:

https://www.facebook.com/wickedly333

www.cathrinaconstantine.blogspot.com

www.goodreads.com/cathrinaconstantine.com`

Amazon Authors Page: http://www.amazon.com/Cathrina-Constantine/e/B00EPENYGE/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1415978225&sr=8-1

Twitter: https://twitter.com/cathconstantine

*****

CONGRATULATIONS!
MADILYN QUINN
YOU'VE JUST WON A COPY OF
DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE!

*****

The 

WEP - Halloween Flash Fiction Challenge 

is

waiting for YOU to sign-up.

Share your scary story!