I love Halloween. It’s a fun holiday where people get to be whatever they want. They can be themselves, they can be something they wish they were. On Halloween you can just have fun. Not to mention all the candy! So in the spirit of the holiday I wrote a few pieces of flash fiction. Hope you enjoy them!
It was coming for us. We couldn’t see where we were going, we just had to run and hope we were faster. Its many limbs grabbed at us, tugging at the edges of our clothing, but we kept running, faster and faster. Our lungs burned, unable to cry out our terror, gasping for the precious air needed to keep up our escape.
The limbs of the dark trees in the moonless night leapt out at us as we ducked and dove, trying desperately not to lose our pace. The thing didn’t seem to be slowed down by the terrain at all, but we could only keep running for so long. He stumbled…I wanted to stop and help, but it got there first.
I ran even harder; I didn’t look back. I hoped having one victim would satisfy it; maybe I could get away…but it didn’t seem to even slow it down. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t think, I just ran. There was nowhere to hide.
My time came soon after. I tripped on what I can only assume was the root of a tree. It was on me before I could even begin to get back up. The last thing I saw was teeth.
On Being Dead
It’s weird being dead. Everything looks fuzzy. I can’t really touch anything, either. I get bored whenever the residents aren’t home to turn on the TV or talk. They keep me company, though I suppose they don’t realize it.
I tried to leave the house once, but I found out pretty quickly that I couldn’t. My universe just loops around when I go through the front door, and I end up right back where I started. I haven’t bothered to try again.
Sometimes I get frustrated. After I’ve been bored long enough – behaved myself long enough – I get angry. I’m still only human, after all. I can touch things, then…well, sort of, anyway. Enough to get the residents’ attention, at least. It scares them when I do that. I feel bad afterward. One family called in a priest once, but I just followed him around making faces behind his head.
Someday I hope I’ll move on. For now, though, I’ll just keep watching TV with you, hoping one day you’ll talk to me…
Death had come to claim her
She did not struggle or fight
Tears streamed down her face
Fear, trepidation, relief
She took the outstretched hand
She wiped away the tears
They walked away