Category: Halloween

The Executed

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The execution is over, and the king congratulates the royal headsman.
“Well done,” he says.
The headsman nods, holding his hood.
Afterwards, he walks to his dungeon alcove, closes the door, and lays down his massive axe.
Then, he takes off his black hood and hangs it on a hook.
There is no mirror in this room… they are luxuries for the nobles.
So, he is saved from the horror of looking upon his rotten and gruesome visage.
Pulling the freshly decapitated head out of a sack, he replaces his rotten and putrid one.
And puts the hood back on.

Tell Me A Story

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“Tell me a story,” says the ghost in my bed.
I’m used to it.
So, I pull a book from the shelf, open the pages, and begin to read.
“I’ve heard this before,” says the ghost.
The ghost has heard them all.
I close the book and make up a story about dragons, castles, maidens, and knights.
But this time, the maidens ate dragons and the castles floated in the air.
“What about the knights?” asked the ghost.
“They lived happily ever after,” I said.
The ghost smiled, faded into nothing, and I was finally able to go to sleep.

The Leaking Pen

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Freitag’s pen drips and leaks on the paper, making it useless as a writing device.
But if you hold it over the paper and gently dangle it, the droplets of ink spell out messages we believe are from Old Lord Freitag himself.
“I was brutally murdered with my own pen, driven into my heart,” says his spirit through the cursed writing device.
We already know that. His butler confessed to the crime, Freitag’s blood and the pen’s ink fresh on his hands.
That was over two hundred years ago, but Freitag’s ghost hasn’t stopped since.
Here. Have a pencil instead.

Maggots

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I was in the hospital, laid up with a broken leg when the word got out that zombies were on the loose.
No guns. No machetes. Just fire extinguishers and the occasional bone saw.
That’s when it hit me.
“Maggots eat dead flesh,” I said. “Release a bunch of maggots and they’ll eat the zombies.”
The nurse went down to the stockroom and brought out three trays of maggots.
“Is that all?” I asked. “I was hoping for huge barrels full of the things. Maybe fill a moat with them.”
No.
Bar the doors. And pray the army shows up.

The Feeding

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With horror bubbling in her throat, Lisa ran a finger along the last wrinkle in her face.
“One more child should do it,” she told her servants. “Not too young. I do not want to overfeed.”
That night, in a burlap sack, they dragged a peasant boy up from the village into Blackmoor Manor.
“Still alive. Good,” said Lisa. “Lock the door. No visitors.”
As Lisa cleansed the ritual knife, the angry mob made its way up the stone path to the manor.
Looking at the pitchforks and torches, her servants decided they were no visitors, and made their escape.

Devil’s Night

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They call this night the Devil’s Night because kids set fires to usher in Halloween.
One year, they got what they wanted, and The Devil showed up to survey the damage.
“You call this devastation?” He howled. “I’ve seen entire empires laid waste, nothing but ashes from ocean to ocean!”
He spat at on the sidewalk and laughed.
The kids burned more houses, but it wasn’t enough for The Devil.
Cops arrived and arrested the kids.
Instead of becoming Satanists, jail house imams converted them to Islam.
For them, any size fire was fine.
Especially when it involved killing Jews.

Pumpkin Screams

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This genetic engineering shit gives me a case of the heebie jeebies.
These newfangled pumpkins scream and ooze blood when you carve them.
When it got to Thanksgiving turkeys that gobble to the tune of “over the river and through the woods” even after you cut their heads off, I got worried.
How did it start? Let me think… It started with a simple splice of DNA to produce Yule logs that burn with natural cinnamon spice scent.
All downhill from there, rabbits laying eggs and crazy shit like that.
Oh. Great. Here comes Santa Clone.
Earlier every damn year.

Servant

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We need more sticks for wands.
Kiss your fingertips, touch the gate, and walk into the cemetery.
Without the kiss, the cemetery’s residents will be insulted.
With the kiss, you will have a safe journey to the Tree Of Souls.
Gather the loose branches. Do not take from the tree itself – that is certain destruction.
These powerful twigs will make excellent wands for necromancy, magic of the dead.
My best ones come from here in fact. Powerful enough to raise the dead and make them obedient servants.
Such as yourself.
Now, be a good zombie, and get me those twigs.

Apple Bobbing

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I love Halloween. It’s the best time of the year.
The candy. The costumes. The cool breeze in the air.
Most of all, I love apple bobbing.
Fill a washtub with water, toss in a few apples, put your hands behind your back, and then try to catch an apple with your mouth.
It’s so fun!
Ever tried other fruits?
Bananas are way too easy.
Watermelons are just too big.
No, it’s best to stick to apples.
I know one guy who likes to bob for lobsters, but that’s taking “choose your lobster from the tank” a little too far.

Vlad

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They called Count Vlad a crossdressing pervert.
He likes to wrap himself in bandages and sleep in an Egyptian-style coffin.
“They think I am a mummy,” he laughs. “While my assassins hunt for canopic jars with my vitals or try to torch my body, I just laugh and smile.”
I asked him about the dress, heels, and lipstick.
“That’s none of your business!” he hissed.
Tonight, he goes with a red wig.
“It’s my lucky hair,” he says, and walks out into the night.
He won’t have much trouble getting blood tonight at the bar.
Crossdressers eat that look up.