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TASK NR 5: HALLOWEEN

This task has a Halloween theme, and it will be a "monthly" task instead of a "bi-weekly" one. The idea is that there will be an initial image (photograph or artwork), and the first participant will write a short story describing the image, or using the image as the starting point, or incorporating the image somehow to the story. It does not have to be a full story, it can be just a part of a larger story.

Length: 200-300 words, not too long.

Objective: this exercise has a specific purpose from a grammar perspective: to practice adjectives!

IMPORTANT: once you have finished writing, you need to post a NEW PHOTO for the next participant to write about. So each story will be inspired by a different photograph or artwork. Regarding images, please remember this is not a 18+ scene, so do not go overboard with gore and guts. Or graphic nudity. That's even worse. If required, I can make this 18+ scene.

HINT: you can "claim" an image by posting "WRITING" so no one else picks that one.

I raise my eyes again, squinting ever so slightly to try and focus the scant light that manages to filter from the overcast sky above. There's clearly not enough ambient light to work comfortably, and the one there is seems hazy and pale, hardly of any help while trying to discern what's going on in the box. But the instructions were strict- no manmade light. It was of paramount importance that the experiment be carried on conditions of diffuse natural sunlight. I cast those unproductive thoughts away from my mind and focus on The Box.

We call it The Box. And, truth be told, it's exactly what it is. A huge, polished box made from an unidentified, porous substance whose natural colour seems to be jet black. It has a strange weight to it, as it somehow it was stouter, heavier, more fundamentally solid than the ground it stands on. The only discordant note is the round opening on the side directly facing me. A perfectly circular hole, cut with steady and precise skill. Over it, another circle made of a polished, opaque material slightly resembling plastic had been bolted firmly over it with big semi-spherical screws that shine with a deep matte glint on the dim light. 

There's an opening in the corrugated sea of clouds above, and sunlight starts falling squarely on the box. I feel a sudden urgency, and hastily take my pen and notepad. Something tells me I'll need them.

I do.

I hear the shrill cries coming from within, and soon afterwards, the vague outline of a pair of emaciated hands, with spindly long fingers, appear on the window, followed by the blurry but unmistakeable outline of a human head... or what mostly looks like one. The basic shapes are there, but there is a menacing air to it, as of something feral and animalistic. The shouting is louder now, an almost incongruous string of vile curses, grievous threats and bone-chilling, impossibly high-pitched shrieks and squeals. I take notes of the time interval and wait. Eventually, heavy black clouds laden with rain slide back in the gap and block the sun. The sound dies once again, as the hands fall down and a roiling cloud of oily, urticant smoke rises from the box and seeps through the narrow pores in the walls.

I lay down my pen. It's the first time that the vampire has managed to survive direct exposure to sunlight for so long. The Ministry will no doubt find this notice enthralling. I must report now. I take a celebratory sip of my tea. It tastes like burnt cinders in my mouth.

I do wish the combustion smoke would be less of an inconvenience, though. Oh well. No one said this job was going to be easy.

Dear Grandma:

I have good news for you. Becky is back! I know that you said that she was now in heaven with the angels and she couldn't live with us anymore, but Mom and Dad found her and brought her back.

Mom and Dad were very sad because she wasn't here, and they started visiting a lot of people to ask them if they knew how to find Becky. I think that some of them knew the way, and after that Mom and Dad said that because we have put the body of Becky under the ground she needed a new one to be able to live with us, so they made a new one for her.

They spended a lot of time in the garage, I think that Becky was having so much fun playing with the angels that she didn't want to come back down because I hear shouting and cries at times. You know that she was very stubborn when she wanted to keep playing with her friends. But they persuaded her at last and now she is sleeping in her room.

Her new body is hard and cold, since it had to be made with a special wood. Do you think that that she will grow as tall as a tree? I'm his older brother, I should be taller than her. Maybe I should ask Mom and Dad for a new body too.

I think that some of her friends came back with her. Mom and Dad don't let me go to the garage anymore but I see their shadows through the windows and sometimes I hear them cry. Should I open the door and let them go home? They seem sad.

I'm sending you a photo of Becky and me together.

Love

Matt

The darkness is my friend, like the song. I walk with her, I walk hand in hand, and I find a new prey. Because I have to catch one today. Today is the day I can go out from my cave, and look at the world. The marvelous big black world.

So, I walk, step by step, in silence. I smile, but you can’t see it, except the smile of my mask. It’s hidden, just like me.

Suddenly, I see her, laughing with her friends. Her shining and pink smile makes me revive. Finally, I can see her again.

She is dancing, while her friends applaud. The party just started, and the village is decorated with a million different colors. I don’t mind, because they can’t see me. No one can. I wish she could.

I look at myself. And I only see dirt. I ask to myself why I liked her time ago. She was my whole life, and I lost her, but not today. Today I can walk, and see her again. The darkness becomes a forgotten friend. Today I can only see her.

My mask hides my face. My dark silk clothes hide myself. My heart is hidden, too. But I can stay close to her, and I am able to smell her short and curly hair. Roses, like her lips.

I slip between two girls who don’t realize I am here, and I follow my pink rose. I dance with her while she dances. And I walk with her, while she walks. But I can’t hug her, because the darkness keeps my hands with her. I am her slave. I am doomed to stay with the darkness. Only with her.

I look at the darkness’ face, and she shakes her head. Time’s up. The night is over, and I have to come back to my cave. That is the deal. One day, one opportunity to see her. The rest of my life, hidden, becoming to a terror story for the village.

I nod, and I start to come back. I don’t see again, because I would be able to accept I have to wait for a whole year.

I just walk with the darkness. 

The little child closed the noisy door. He was a clever boy but he hadn't thought that the door could had done such a scratchy sound. He held is tiny breath while he tried to hear some familiar sound. But his mum didn't ask "Who's up?" and his daddy's footsteps didn't sound on the stairs.

So Bobby begun to breath again. He opened the back door and ran away from the family house. The night was dark, cold, wet and scary. He ran as quick as his little weak legs could do it. He didn't want to be there, alone in the shadowy outside.

A week ago some of his classmates were talking about the Ancient tree. They told that it was a magic tree... or that is what his wise grandparents had told them. It was older than any other tree in town, primitive and ancient. They told an old legend that said you can ask for a wish if you go to the tree, at midnight, on Halloween eve.

That was the reason why the wee child was running in the middle of the scary night. It was not too far from his warm house, so he soon reached his woody destination. Now he was more scared than before. The creepy wind made the huge branches move as if the towering tree were inviting the child to come closer. The panicked kid was paralized. Suddenly an owl hooted somewhere. The boy jumped, shouted something to the tree and ran away to his home.

-I want to be brave!!!- that was the wish the child shouted that night to the tree.

The manor up on the hill had been abandoned for as long as anyone in town could remember. All kinds of stories were whispered to those interested in listening. For some, the place was haunted. But for most people, it was nothing but an old building that had always been there. It had become part of the landscape.

Inside, the afternoon sun cast light through the ground floor window. There was a small round wooden able, and everything looked surprisingly clean. Someone had been tidying the place up recently.

-Mike, look – Jane said pointing at some pizza boxes and empty Coke cans thrown away in the corner. She was holding her boyfriend’s hand firmly. She had not felt comfortable about coming here the day after Halloween, with all the horror stories still fresh in her mind. But Mike had insisted on coming here today. And he could be extremely persuasive when he wanted to.

So they entered the manor. –Just some kids were playing a silly game last night. Your brother, and his nerdy friends. Don’t worry hun – he shrugged his shoulders. He had been planning this visit for weeks, and he was not going to let anything stop them today He took her upstairs, walking closely behind her and contemplating the sway of her hips. Jane was wearing a short white dress which fitted her body tightly in just the right places. Mike was a senior in high school, and he had had his doubts about dating a sophomore like Jane. But he had swallowed his pride, and pushed aside the urges he felt when they were together. He had gone slow with her. And today, it was time to claim the grand prize. Sometimes, good things came to those who waited.

Mike had closed the windows and prepared some candles and a soft mattress on the floor. The small attic was almost completely dark. Only a few rays of light filtered through the cracks.

-I love you Jane – he started and kissed her. –And we have been going steady for three months now...

The two kissed again, and his hand started caressing her thigh and moved up her skirt as he gently pushed her against the wall.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was getting heavier. Suddenly, she heard a noise. She opened her eyes. –Wait... Wait. Did you hear that, Mike?

But he did not stop. The next thing she saw was a burst of fire and a black hand emerging from the flames to grab his neck. And then a huge shadow followed. A demon spread its wings, and opened its mouth to devour the two lovers.

***

-My demon priestess is hot! She kind of looks like your sister Jane – the boy chuckled and soon enough the others were also laughing. The four friends had gathered in the old manor in Halloween. They had found an old book up in the attic, and what looked like a game board. Jim, Jane’s younger brother, had created a cool adventure game from it. Jim took another sip of his Coke, and finished his pizza slice.

-Hey, Jim... What if the demon we summon... the one in this book, you know. What if it’s for real?

Everyone laughed.

I know what you are expecting. I would even dare saying that I know what you are looking for while reading this. What, didn’t guess I would? Come on, you show a picture of an old piano, covered in spider webs and dust, shrouded in the dim mood-setting light of the candles… fuck me, is that an Instagram filter what I see on the corners?

Please, don’t deny it. You were looking for this:

I won’t lie either. For a moment I was quite tempted to go ahead through that road. But then I said, ‘hey, why? Why being so mild when I can use this opportunity to show them the horrors of my true nature?’ So yeah, I then changed my mind and decided to go for it.

So you want a horror story, don’t you?

Look at the screen.

Look closer.

Do you see it? Maybe you don’t, those new LCD are really cool. But maybe you’re lucky and you do. Your reflection, do you see it now? A dark silhouette hovering on the screen that contrasts with the bright colors of the web. Yes, that’s you. Surprise surprise (sarcasm).

I know what you’re thinking now: ‘jeez, this fucker is trying to troll me’. Well, could be. Could this be the horror story I want to tell you? Could I be here writing about the horrors hidden behind this screen that is holding your reflection in this very moment? The horrors that filled pages in the stories of old that are now a very real threat to many, the horrors that keep ‘talking strangers into death’ and ‘cheer on rape’?

But no, that’s not the story I’m here to tell. That’s quite horrific in itself. No need for me to milk that cow further.

No, go back to you, to that silhouette on the screen.

Reflect upon it as it reflects on the computer. Remember where it comes from, what it has been through, how has it behave with others. The aggregate of joy and suffering it has lived through. And now, think where it is going. Think where it will, unintentionally indeed but nevertheless in fact, end.

You are dying.

There is absolutely no way you are going to get out of this adventure, of this horror story, alive.

There is no sugar coating. There is but the plain truth: In this story, the story of your life, the main character dies at the end.

With that, I leave you with something else the picture elicited in my mind.