A bit of fun for you today, Dear Reader. Three, spooky, 100-word stories for your Halloween reading pleasure. Enjoy!
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THE HAUNTED CAROUSEL
If you don’t believe me, go there yourself. After the mothers pushing strollers leave and the old men playing chess shuffle away. They lock the gate, but go around back. You’ll find a loose board. At half-past-one, the music starts, faint at first. Louder, louder until it’s inside you. Their eyes glow red. White steam blasts from their nostrils. Music turns to screaming. Don’t get too close. Cursed creatures, these. Hungry for life, for blood. You still doubt. Look—lost my right hand that night so long ago. So young, so brave to think that black stallion could be tamed.
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THE WOLF AT THE DOOR
He approaches, lowers himself to her height. She hesitates. Grandmother warned her to stay away: “Those beasts cannot be trusted.” But there is something familiar in his yellow eyes, a dark reflection of her innermost thoughts. She twists her fingers into his fur, swings onto his back, and holds on tight. He charges into the woods, chasing the pale light of a crescent moon. They crash through leaves, branches, tumbling streams. He snaps his tail, bares his teeth, and it takes all her strength to hang on. Then, in a clearing, he slows. She throws back her head and howls.
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OUT FROM THE FOG
Draw the curtains, children. Lock the doors. Snuggle into soft beds, warm blankets. Snuggle down and close your eyes. Ignore the rattling at your window, the howling, pounding shrieks, the harried, urging whispers. If you stay inside, there is nothing to fear.
But the gray mist beckons, wrapping around rooftops and bridge spires, rubbing sharp edges soft, and we are pulled in. Laughter swirls round, reminding us of a neighbor boy who drowned last year in the tub. A flash of red, the color of our dead sister’s hair. We give chase. Before long, we are nowhere, lost and afraid.