“The Grim Reaper will claim your soul by the stroke of midnight,” predicted the County Fair’s gypsy to Josh.
“Oh, really,” said Josh in a sarcastic tone to the old lady. “Guess I’d better pack something for the road. I’m kinda hungry,” he muttered, letting a shriek-like laugh escape as he and his friends chuckled their way out of the tent.
“Keep the 5 bucks, lady,” he said, exiting the dark, damp tent. “You’ll need them for your retirement fund.” He got high fived by his buddies. It was 8:33 p.m.
The clock on the kitchen wall showed 11:45 p.m. as Josh sat at the table. He was really chomping down on some leftover cheese and broccoli he had nuked in the microwave. Amusement drew a smile on his face as he recalled all the devious deeds and mayhem he and his buddies had created that Halloween night. Oh, and the gypsy lady too.
Then a little uneasiness settled in as he saw the time on the clock. What if it was real? The death thing! He didn’t want to die, after all, jokes aside. He was barely 26, and just the thought—the serious, honest thought of walking down the dark aisles of death—shook him to the core.
A sudden, loud thump at the kitchen window made him jump from the chair to his feet. A deep gasp wedged a piece of broccoli in his throat. He choked for a moment on it. When he finally cleared the piece of food from his throat, he rushed to the window to find out what the ruckus had been about. A bat had struck the glass, and it was still quivering on the ground of the backyard.
He was a bit shaken when he retired to his bedroom, lying laying face up on his bed, lights off.
“Well, I’m alive,” he thought, “it’s only a few minutes till midnight, when this gypsy nonsense will be over. I’m not moving an inch from this room.”
Seeing the clock's hands, he rejoiced, waving his hands.
“12:02, yes! In your face, gypsy hag!” he yelled with satisfaction.
Suddenly, he heard the front door open and shut loudly. He was sure he locked it. The sound of fast, heavy steps grew louder as they approached the room. A sick, feverish chill ran through his whole body as a dark, cloaked figure opened the bedroom door. Its glowing red eyes glimmered over a fanged, skull face.
“Sorry I’m late. Busy night! Let’s go,” said the demonic appearance.
“No, wait! Who are you? Go away, please!” begged Josh.
“I’m Death, and I’m late, so don’t give me a hard time. Move!”
“Please, no, wait!” Josh, at the brink of tears, cried, “I’m not dead, I’m alive. That’s not fair—I’m alive! You can’t take my body with its soul still in it!” Josh was now screaming, “You can’t take my body!”
“I don’t want your body. I’m here for your soul,” the Grim Reaper replied in a harsh, angry voice as he grabbed Josh by the wrist and dragged him out of bed like a dry rag.
“If I wanted your choked, dead body, I would have picked it up from the kitchen floor fifteen minutes ago. Move it. I’m late!”
The End
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Author's note: I just came up with story this Halloween afternoon, so it's not perfect. Hope some people like it.
My treat. Enjoy!
