"Come on!" The little boy called, motioning for his friend to follow him.
Mark Watts and Peony Davis were running around their neighborhood, enjoying an evening of trick-or-treating after having a delicious pizza party with their parents and grandparents.
They ran up the long driveway of what was known as the town's haunted house. However, nobody believed that the building was dangerous as it just looked old and haunted mansion-like.
The kids laughed as they rapped their knuckles on the door at a rapid, almost inhuman pace. They anxiously awaited a response. A minute passed, and nobody had answered.
"Maybe nobody's home.." Peony said, her eyes meeting Mark's as the porch light began flickering. The girl went to walk away when Mark grabbed her arm and tugged her back, he was determined to get his candy, no matter how long he had to wait.
He told her: "Remember what my dad said? Good things come to those who wait!"
The girl sighed as she took her place next to her friend. They waited for another minute before the curtains in the window to their left were ripped open, revealing a tall figure dressed as a farmer. The figure wielded a pitchfork and their face and clothing were covered in red goo.
Mark, who was seemingly unaware, continued knocking on the door.
The figure smiled at the two children before it oddly twisted its head, giving Peony a sinister smile. The figure reached out a hand and Peony felt a weight on her shoulder.
She shrieked, only to realize that Mark's father, Mr. Watts, had come up behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. He thanked the lady that was standing in the doorway and wished her a happy Halloween. Mark did the same as she placed some candy into his basket.
The lady stared at Peony for a few seconds before placing some rockets into her basket. The trio turned to walk away, Peony turned back at the house once they had reached the sidewalk.
She looked to the window, the curtains were still open.. But the figure was gone.
Peony shivered as she looked for the figure, the only trace of them was the bloody pitchfork that had been expertly propped up against the glass. She sighed as they walked to another house.
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Word count: 380
Author: Norris James
YOU ARE READING
Book of Stories Long and Short
RandomHere lies stories that are both long and short.. To put it simply, this is a book that contains any stories that we come up with. The stories here are all original, edited, and can be either an eternity long, or two sandwiches short of a picnic. Ple...
