From time to time, I will be adding some samples of my short fiction to this page. Please be aware that all content on this site is subject to copyright.

Trick Or Treat

By

Justin M. Kelly

Jerry could hear the candy being poured into the bowl behind his head as he watched the buxom coed being hacked to pieces by her psychotic ex boyfriend. Her screams echoed throughout the house as Jerry reached behind his head with the intent of pilfering one of the chocolates. Quickly withdrawing his stinging hand, he began rubbing it as the finger marks began to appear.

“Those are for the kids.” His mother chided.

Turning halfway around, he regarded his mom. Her sexy vampire costume, combined with the white face paint and realistic looking fangs, made her look much hotter than a mom should. It was a good thing she was only wearing a costume or else within a week the town would be populated entirely by creatures of the night, at least the male contingent.

“Aw, come on mom. I only wanted one.”

Picking up a Baby Ruth, she pretended to think about it carefully before handing it to him.

“Just one, the rest are for the kids. You'd better actually give some out this year. I don’t want to hear about another scam like the one you guys ran last year. Honestly, giving out music for Halloween? Did you really think you’d get away with that one?”

“It was worth a try.” Jerry smiled at his mother. She tried to remain stern but in the end, she couldn’t help but return the smile. “Besides, we did give some out.”

“Randy throwing candy bars at little kids does not count. That poor little boy will probably have to wear glasses for the rest of his life.”

“I still don’t see how getting hit in the eye with a candy bar could mess up his eyes.”

“The doctor said that it was a fluke. It just happened to hit him just right.”

“But it wasn’t even a butter finger, It was a Milky Way, they’re soft.”

His mother shrugged her shoulders as his father came down the stairs humming something unrecognizable. Decked out in a black velvet tuxedo and lace shirt, he seemed the perfect escort for the vampiress. Casting aside his silver headed cane, he slipped his arms around his wife and bent as if to kiss her but changed course at the last second to press his fangs into her neck. The plastic caps weren’t nearly sharp enough to pierce her skin but nonetheless left two tiny red marks on her flesh. She shivered involuntarily as the goose bumps rose on her arms.

“We all set?” Asked his father.

“Almost, just let me finish barking orders at the kid.”

Jerry’s father bowed gallantly to his wife. “Bark away.”

“You boys can play until nine thirty. I expect everything to be quiet by nine thirty one. After that your friends can spend the night if they want on two conditions. One, the house had better be immaculate when we get home tomorrow. Two, there had better not be any girls here in the morning.”

“Don’t worry,” Jerry winked at his mother “I’ll make sure they’re gone by the time you get home.”

Absently flicking her son in the back of the head, she turned to her husband. “Have I forgotten anything?”

“Yeah, for gods’ sake, give out some candy this year.”

“I already covered that.”

“Oh, okay, I guess that’s about it.”

Jerry’s mom bent forward and kissed him on the head. “The number for the hotel is next to the phone but the house had better be burning down if you call it.”

“If the house if burning down, shouldn’t I get out?”

“Funny.”

“I thought so.”

“You boys have fun and remember, nine thirty.”

With that, they walked out the door.

Waiting a few seconds after he heard the door click shut, Jerry crept to the window and peeked through the blinds. He watched as his parents shared a lingering kiss before slipping into the sleek black Mercedes and backing out of the driveway. Halfway down the block, the taillights flashed as a horde of miniature goblins crossed in front of the car. Seconds later, the Mercedes turned the corner and his parents were gone.

Jerry let the blinds fall back into place as he saw the trick or treaters turn toward his house. The doorbell began to ring frantically as Jerry took a beer from the fridge, a habit his parents had long since given up trying to break him of. He chuckled to himself at the thought of those kids standing outside the door expecting him to share his candy with them.

He grabbed the orange plastic bowl and made his way upstairs to his parents room.

Flopping down onto the soft, King size bed, Jerry surveyed the room. A bit too flowery for his taste but all in all, not too bad. Placing the beer on the night stand and positioning the candy bowl on the bed next to him within easy reach, Jerry picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello?”

“What’s up Randy?”

“Hey Jer.”

“The folks are gone, when ya comin’ over?”

“After I eat.”

“Cool. We have ‘til nine thirty to jam so hurry up.”

“Cool. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Just come in when you get here. Go ahead and get set up in the garage then come get me. I’m hiding out in my parents’ room so the kids don’t bug me.”

“That’s cold man.”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one throwin’ candy at little kids last year.”

“Gimme a break, I was drunk. Besides, they shouldn’t have gotten so close.

“Anyway. You wanna call the rest of the guys? I think I’m gonna crash ‘til you get here. I’m feeling a little sleepy.”

“Sure man. See ya when I see ya.”

“Later.”

After hanging up the phone, Jerry downed his beer, picked up the remote, and began searching for the ever elusive unpredictable horror movie.

. . .

Jerry was awakened by the sound of a freight train rolling through his house. Still disoriented from his nap, he picked up the remote and tried to turn off the T.V. before realizing that it was already off. Strange, he thought. He could have sworn that it had still been on when he dozed off. The bright flash of lightning outside his window made him realize how dark it had gotten. As the accompanying thunder shook the house, he glanced at the clock to check the time. Where the bright green numbers usually were, there was only a black rectangle.

“Damn,” Jerry mumbled, “I guess we’re playing unplugged tonight.”

Jerry lifted his wrist to his face and pressed the small button on the side of his watch. Instantly he was greeted with a soft blue glow from the small timepiece. Jerry lay in disbelief as he stared at the watch face long after the small light had turned itself off.

Hoping he had misread the clock due to his grogginess, he pressed the button again. This time there was no mistaking it. His watch read eight forty seven.

“Where the hell are those assholes?” He growled under his breath. “Don’t tell me they’re afraid of a little water.”
Picking up the phone, he began dialing. About halfway through the number, he realized that there were no sounds coming from the receiver. He jiggled the button a couple of times but to no avail. The line was dead.

Groping in the dark like a man gone recently blind, Jerry seemed to run into every table he passed. Pausing at the top of the black stairwell, he stared into the void, hoping at least to be able to see the steps immediately in front of him. No such luck. Admitting defeat, his hand firmly grasping the hand rail, his foot began feeling its way from step to step. With each step, he counted off the sixteen stairs that he had flown up and down as a child. After what seemed like forever, although it couldn’t possibly have been more that a few seconds, Jerry reached fifteen. Confidently, he took the last step when his feet became ensnared in the tangle of wires at the foot of the stairs.
Jerry’s head hit the tile with a wet smack. His eyes closed as he fought off the onset of a deeper blackness. He was brought back to full consciousness when he realized that he was laying in a puddle of something wet and sticky. A metallic, coppery smell, not unlike the smell of old pennies filled his nostrils.

Who was he trying to kid? It smelled like blood.

Jerry’s eyes flew open just as the lightning flashed again and he found himself staring into the dead eyes of his bass player, Jeff.

In a panic, Jerry scampered away from the body toward the front door, keeping his eyes always on the corpse as if it would suddenly come to life and latch onto his leg. All the while, his mind screamed at him to get out of the house and away from whoever had done this.

His eyes still fixed on the deep gashes in the former bass players’ neck, Jerry reached above his head, searching for the knob. He grew more frantic by the second as he groped for the metal knob. His finger finally found a small hole in the faceplate of the door. Jerry’s stomach dropped as he realized that someone had removed the knob.

After several failed attempts to regain his feet in the slippery, half congealed blood, Jerry buried his face in his hands and sobbed in terror. The blood in his veins froze as he heard a lilting giggle drift down the hall. He jerked his head in the direction of the noise just in time to see something white and feathery disappear around the corner.

His paralysis broken, Jerry crawled through the coagulating mess. After slipping several times, he finally made his way to the carpet and scrambled to his feet. Immediately, his knees tried to buckle. Gripping the back of the couch to steady himself, Jerry listened intently as he fought to regain his equilibrium. Accompanying the loud ticking of the large grandfather clock, he thought he heard the faint sound of small feet running down the hallway above his head but he couldn’t be sure. Desperately, he tried to tell himself it was just his nerves playing tricks on him. His body stiffened as he heard another giggle and the creaking of someone coming down the stairs.

Not waiting for an order from his conscious mind, Jerry’s legs began to run with a will of their own. A warning exploded in his head as he made the left turn that took him through the laundry room and into the garage.

Jerry pounded on the button to open the garage door several times before realizing that an electric garage door won’t open without electricity and his father had removed the emergency release rope. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he scanned the room for another point of exit. The dirt-covered windows offered no help. Even if they did open, there was no way he could fit through them. His eyes lit on the side door leading to the back yard but his hopes fell as he remembered that his father had nailed it shut last summer after several of his tools had been stolen.

Giving up hope, he crept silently to the door leading back out to the laundry room. His hand was on the knob when a soft knock issued from the other side. Jerking his hand away from the knob as if it had suddenly grown red hot in his hand, Jerry looked again at the side door and wondered if he might be able to break through it. The tormenting knock came again.

Without another thought, Jerry launched himself full tilt at the door, turning his shoulder into it at the last second. Lightning struck again at the moment of impact, this time inside his head as the pain raced through his arm. The sharp crack he had heard hadn’t come from the door. He might as well have tried to break through the wall itself.

Defeated, Jerry curled into a ball and sobbed quietly as he nursed his battered shoulder. After several minutes, Jerry shakily made his way to his feet. He was tired of waiting for death. His mind was made up, if he was going to die, he was going to do so on his own terms. Boldly, he grasped the doorknob and flung it open.

The laundry room was empty. Quickly, he bolted through the kitchen and flung the sliding glass door open, barely noticing the corpse of Jim, the drummer, laying in front of the refrigerator, riddled with kitchen knives.

Jerry flew outside into the freezing rain. Overhead, the lightning tore apart the sky as he ran around the house and through the gate. When greeted with the spectacle in the front yard, Jerry tried to stop himself but slipped in the wet grass and fell on his abused shoulder. Behind him, the gate clicked as it swung shut and the latch caught.

On the lawn, in a semicircle, stood two dozen tiny demons in various masks and costumes. Some were practically snarling at him while others stared as if hypnotized. Each child held a lit candle in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. One child, slightly older than the others, stepped out of the group and pointed at him. The lightning flashed from his thick glasses as the children began a slow advance toward Jerry. The blades glimmered as the electric sky danced off the steel.

Jerry tried to find his feet but the wet, slippery mud, combined with his useless right arm, made escape impossible.

Instinctively he backed away as the semicircle closed around him. He nearly screamed as he felt something cold against his back before he realized that he had backed right up to the house. Eerily silent, the children continued to advance. Behind them, the one with the glasses grinned with a maniacal glee.
The children were now no more than a few feet from him. He knew that in another step or two they would be close enough and he would feel the blades being thrust into his body again and again. Insanely, he wondered how many times he would feel it before he lost consciousness.

The first of the children were now in range. They raised their knives high in the air as Jerry curled into a defensive ball and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for steel to pierce his skin. Through his tightly closed eyelids, he saw the lightning begin to flash over and over.

. . .

Jerry waited in anticipation of the pain that he knew would soon come but it never did. The lightning flashed red through the thin membrane of his eyelids. A sudden realization exploded in his head. “That can’t be lightning,” Jerry thought, “no lightning flashes that often or that regularly.”

Slowly, Jerry opened his eyes. Jeff stood before him, blood still dripping from his neck, taking pictures that, undoubtedly, would be all over school on Monday. Jim stood behind Jeff holding the video camera. They were both laughing hysterically. The laughter spread quickly to the children as Jerry felt his face redden. He knew he’d never live this one down. Deliberately, he gave Jeff the finger. Jeff pressed the shutter again.

“A little scared there buddy?” Jeff smiled “Need a new pair of drawers?”

“Ah bite me, what did I ever do to you?”

“To me? Nothing. These kids on the other hand, that’s a different story.”

“The kids? I never did anything to these kids.”

Jeff shook his head condescendingly. “Jerry, don’t you know what happens when you don’t give out candy on Halloween?”

“They go next door and try again?”

“No, they get to play a trick on you.” Jeff smiled proudly.

“Although I doubt any kid has ever pulled off a trick quite so devious.”

“They came to me and asked for some help. I figured why not? Besides, I knew it would be damn funny. I’m actually pretty proud of ‘em. The whole thing was their idea, all I did was get
the makeup effects from my uncle at the movie studio and play dead.” To demonstrate the makeup effects, he pulled the gashes from his neck in one long, rubbery strip.

“But how did you know I’d fall asleep so you could set all this up?”

“We had your mom slip you a sedative.”

“But how?” Then it dawned on him. “The candy bar.”

Jeff nodded as he helped Jerry to his feet.

“So where’s Randy anyway? I’d think he, of all people, would be down for a gag like this.”

“I don’t know. He called us and told us to come over, then he never showed.”

“Oh well, hell with him.” Jerry smiled, then turned to the children. “Come on kids, I guess you earned some candy. Lets go have us a Halloween party.”

Cheering, the kids followed Jerry into the house as he tried to steal the camera from Jeff.

. . .

Lingering behind for a moment, The kid with the glasses grinned wickedly at the garbage cans where he knew Randy’s body lay, already beginning to gather flies. His six guitar strings wrapped tightly enough around his neck to draw blood. Changing to a more genial smile, he turned and ran into the house to collect his candy.