Halloween night. A group of people in costumes gathers in a clearing deep in the forest, sitting around a crackling campfire. Sparks drift into the air, carried by a light breeze that seems determined to make the night even colder. And, as inevitably happens in gatherings like these, someone starts telling a spooky story. And then there’s another one, and another…
“That was a good one!” says someone dressed as a ghost.
“Wow, where did you come up with that? What an imagination,” says a Vampire.
“Or was it?”
The fun continues. There’s tension, sudden scares, nervous laughter, and even a few screams.
The Ghost leans forward, interlacing his fingers and resting his forearms on his thighs, assuming a somewhat intimidating posture. The firelight deepens the shadows beneath his eyes, making his unusually pale skin appear almost translucent.
“On Halloween night, you can find people in costumes most anywhere. Ghosts, like me, vampires, witches, jack-o’-lanterns…” He pauses, glances around, then continues. “…famous horror characters, and even, for reasons I’ll never understand, fairies, angels, and the like.”
Most burst out laughing. Some exchange glances, while others look around the fire or farther into the dark forest.
The Ghost notices. “Ah, fear. The things it does to us, huh?” He takes a deep breath and continues. “A Halloween party is in full swing. The usual stuff: costumes, drinks, flirting, fooling around. Nothing out of the ordinary, until someone notices a figure standing in a corner of the room.
“It’s impossible to tell whether the person is a man or a woman. Probably a man, judging by the height and broad build. The costume consists of a long black hooded robe covering the entire body, thick black gloves, and a white porcelain mask. The mask suggests the contours of a face without revealing any recognizable features. There aren’t even openings for the eyes or nose.
“The Masked One realizes someone is watching and retreats farther into the corner. His hands move frantically, one squeezing the other, then switching, over and over.”
The Ghost imitates the gesture. The icy breeze picks up, and a sharp crack from the burning wood makes almost everyone jump. The Ghost smiles, then shouts: “BOO!”
“Jesus!” the Witch screams, nearly falling backward. A few of the people let out nervous giggles. Others look slightly annoyed at having fallen for one of the oldest tricks in campfire storytelling.
The Ghost continues. “‘Hey!’ someone dressed as the Devil calls out to the figure in the robe. ‘How can you breathe through that mask? Does it have some kind of filter?’
“The Masked One shrinks farther into the corner, but it’s too late. Others have noticed. The Devil tries again. ‘Seriously, how do you breathe in there? There aren’t any holes.’
“More guests gather around. Some ask whether the Masked One has eaten anything or is feeling all right. But the figure only tries to escape the growing circle. Finally, the Masked One breaks free and rushes down a long hallway toward the exit. A few guests follow.
“Realizing he’s being pursued, the Masked One stumbles over the robe and falls. The others hurry over to help, but the figure struggles desperately to keep them from touching his costume.
“Throughout all this, not a sound escapes from the mask. The frantic rise and fall of the robe makes it clear the person is breathing heavily, yet no one can hear a thing.
“An Angel suggests removing the mask. The masked one immediately stops struggling and gets to his feet. Everyone exchanges uncertain glances.
“Then the Devil rushes forward, shouting that they mustn’t remove it.
“The Masked One stands perfectly still, calm and impassive, with the Angel on one side and the Devil on the other. The remaining guests surround the three of them. And now, they can all hear the deep breathing of the person behind the mask.”
Dead silence.
The Ghost takes a deep breath and looks around the campfire, meeting everyone’s eyes. He uncurls his fingers, straightens up on the log where he’s sitting, and reaches for a beer. An orange reflection appears on the bottle.
Then a Nurse launches into a rather peculiar story. “This one’s called ‘Trick or Treat?’” she says.
“A couple dressed as Gomez and Morticia offers three children a bucket overflowing with candy, letting them take whatever they want. Their eyes light up. They fill their pumpkin buckets and race off to the next house.
“These children are wearing traditional Halloween costumes, but there’s something curious about them. They look as though they’ve stepped straight out of a photograph from the 1920s. The ghost wears nothing but a white bedsheet with two holes cut out for the eyes. The witch wears a long black dress and a pointed hat made from black cardboard. And the scarecrow wears patched farmer’s clothes, stuffed here and there with straw.
“They continue filling their pumpkin buckets until they stop in front of a house that looks like something straight out of a horror movie…”
“Oh, come on! You were doing so well,” the Vampire complains.
“Yeah, another tired haunted-house story. Even I wouldn’t go that far,” the Ghost remarks, laughing, already a little tipsy from his beer.
“I can already hear it: ‘No one must enter that house, or they’ll never come out alive!’”
“Can I continue, or are you going to tell the story for me?”
Everyone exchanges glances and shrugs, reluctantly allowing the Nurse to continue, although they’re already convinced her story won’t be worth listening to.
“The house looks sinister. And yes, there are dozens of supernatural stories associated with it. But the three children don’t seem intimidated in the slightest.
“They knock, and a man dressed as a skeleton opens the door. Curiously, his costume also seems to belong to the 1920s. It consists of old, tight-fitting black clothes with a skeleton painted onto them by hand. His unusually gaunt face makes the costume look even more cadaverous.
“‘Trick or treat!’ the children shout in unison.
“The Skeleton looks at them and raises both hands, showing they’re empty. He smiles, opens the door wider, and gestures for the children to come inside.
“They enter without hesitation. The living room is enormous, but dimly lit. “‘Last chance,’ the Witch warns. ‘Trick or treat?’
“The Skeleton merely raises an index finger to his lips, clearly asking for silence.
“‘Are you sure?’ the Ghost asks.
“The Skeleton keeps his finger raised and nods. Thrilled, the scarecrow turns to his friends. ‘Trick it is, then!’
“The three children split up. One heads into the basement, another stays on the ground floor, and the third races upstairs. They search room after room, taking an object from each and dropping it into their pumpkin buckets.
“Despite the poor lighting, they can make out shapes lurking behind curtains, heavy furniture moving on its own, and shadows stretching across the walls. Strange manifestations seem to follow them everywhere. Yet none of the children appears frightened. They barely seem to notice.
“When they’re finished, they return to the living room. The Skeleton is still standing exactly where they left him, and the children’s pumpkin buckets are now overflowing with objects.
“In the middle of the enormous room, the skeleton raises his hands as though offering something. The children form a triangle around him.
“And then the strange manifestations begin again, only this time they’re gathering around the children.
“The pumpkin-shaped buckets suddenly glow from within, flooding the entire room with light.”
“Okay, you got me with that one,” says a Fairy.
“Right?”
“Patience is a virtue,” the Nurse replies with a laugh, brushing back a few strands of hair loosened by the icy breeze, which is now growing stronger.
For a brief moment, the fire casts a strange glow over an empty place around the campfire.
“Okay, okay. Now this one, I’m sure, will make you wish you were safely tucked away in your warm homes instead of sitting around a campfire in the middle of the woods, listening to horror stories on Halloween night,” says a man dressed as Michael Myers, beginning his story.
Some of the people around the fire feel a little uneasy. Others let out nervous chuckles. But the icy breeze, the dense, dark forest surrounding them, the costumes, and, above all, that familiar chill running down the spine in situations like this pleasantly heighten their discomfort—and their certainty that the next story will be truly terrifying.
“We’re not the only lunatics gathering around a fire in the middle of a dense forest on a freezing Halloween night.”
A few people realize they can’t remember seeing this guy without his mask, not even for a moment. After the Ghost’s story, the thought is particularly unsettling.
Myers looks around the campfire, tilting his head in that unmistakable Michael Myers fashion. He pauses with his head at a peculiar angle before continuing.
The Nurse follows his gaze and notices someone dressed as a Jack-o’-lantern sitting in that very spot. A wave of unease washes over her, but she tells herself that people change seats, right? Right?
“It’s a relatively small group, much like ours. Everyone’s having a great time, completely absorbed in the gathering, paying little attention to anything beyond the campfire, despite the intimidating darkness of the surrounding forest.”
Instinctively, everyone glances around. Towering trees lose their definition only a short distance beyond the clearing. Past that, there’s nothing but absolute darkness.
“It’s easy to get distracted when we’re having fun. Conversations, loud music, and, of course, alcohol certainly helps…” Myers gives a faint chuckle before continuing. “But what could be hiding in the darkness of the forest?”
Myers pauses again, looking at each person around the fire. The Nurse glances to her side and realizes the Jack-o’-lantern is no longer sitting there.
A jolt of fear runs through her. She struggles to remain calm, telling herself he might have gone to relieve himself—or perhaps slipped away to have a little fun with some girl, somewhere out of sight.
“Perhaps not everyone knows the story behind Jack-o’-lantern.” Myers looks directly at the Nurse as he says this. She could swear he’s smiling beneath his mask.
“They say Jack was a thief who tricked the Devil into captivity. In exchange for his freedom, the Devil promised never to claim Jack’s soul. But when Jack died, Heaven refused him, and Hell couldn’t take him. Condemned to wander between the two, Jack asked the Devil how he was supposed to find his way through the darkness. The Devil gave him a burning ember, which Jack placed inside a hollowed-out pumpkin. And that’s how Jack-o’-lantern got his name.”
Myers pauses once more, but this time his attention settles on a point deep within the forest. Everyone turns to look.
Perhaps it’s their imagination, or perhaps their fear is getting the better of them, but a tiny orange light seems to flicker in the darkness. Then it goes out and the forest is swallowed by blackness once again.
When they turn back toward Myers, Jack-o’-lantern is standing beside him.
I wanted today’s post to be Halloween-related. I love this time of year as much as any horror reader, so I decided to write this little story and invite you to take part in this wonderfully strange and extraordinary season.
And since we’re celebrating Halloween, I’d also like to invite you to read my novel, Halloween on Friday the 13th, in which I brought together two of our favorite—and, dare I say, very special—occasions: Halloween and Friday the 13th.
