Hi everyone! Here's my second halloween story of the month. I hope you like it!
Mr. Denby could practically feel his bones creaking as he patrolled the town catacombs. Halloween night, it was; the worst night of the year. Every year, some drunk teenagers would sneak in and pull some sort of practical joke. He sighed at the thought of last year’s “prank:” rearranging the ancient bone formations to read “Happy Halloween.” The cleanup had been agonizing. Had they no respect for the dead? he thought to himself. A voice in his head responded, “Apparently not.” Ah, but wait! Now, most would think Mr. Denby was mad, or perhaps having some strange internal dialogue. But no. The voice in his head was indeed the ghost of his dead lover. Insane, you might say! But no, only the voice of his bride-to-be, having appeared in his head the moment she died, only two hours before their wedding, as was wont to happen in these days. If it wasn’t for her, he would have killed himself years ago. But Desdemona’s voice insisted that he must stay alive and ensure that her grave was never, ever disturbed. Mr. Denby therefore decided that until Desdemona came to fetch him herself, he would not die. And that is how Mr. John Denby stayed alive for 138 years. Not only this, but he did not fall in love even once for 138 years! This gave him a rather biased perspective on love, as he believed that one’s first love also must be one’s last love. Mr. Denby spent his days patrolling the catacombs with his flashlight, stopping to re-light candles and pay his respects to Desdemona along the way. Sometimes, he would read, but once Edgar Allan Poe had died, there wasn’t really a surplus of literature about dead fiancees. It was a boring existence, and some might say a lonely one, but at least he had Desdemona. She kept him company. She was too good for him, but he supposed that if she wanted to leave, she would. He kept her picture in his pocket, yellowed and crumbling of its age. Still, Mr. Denby’s memory of her face was clear as day - as well as his memory of other parts of her. Lost in reverie, he found himself straying from his usual route. A nice change, he thought. “Yes,” replied Desdemona. “You should do this more often, I’m tiring of our path. Your footprints must be etched into the stone by now.” Mr. Denby chuckled. Then, suddenly, coming from an old broom closet, he heard a sound. Frowning, he got out his keys and started to unlock the door. He jiggled the old handle, and finally got the door open. Inside were two teenagers - older, maybe 16 or 17 - that sprang apart when he entered. The boy was dressed as some sort of movie character; he had annoyingly spiky hair and stood with his arm still pinning the girl to the wall. The girl, on the other hand, was blushing furiously and buttoning up the front of her costume- an angel. Ironic. *** Sylvie didn’t mean to end up like this. She had gone out with her friends on Halloween, finally over her jerky ex who had dumped her a few months before- and she had been having fun! But, she supposed, she must have had a few too many drinks, because all she could remember was kissing Jack and then him whispering something in her ear. He’d taken her away from the party into the old catacombs, and Syvlie had run giggling along with him all the way to a little closet in the wall. He’d locked the door (from the inside), and, well… What she really wasn’t expecting was to get caught. Jack had assured her that the old caretaker rarely passed by the closet, and yeah, they hadn’t seen him on their way in. So why was he here now? And what was happening to him? The caretaker’s original look of shock had been replaced by a very ugly one. He took a couple steps forward. Sylvie quivered. Her mother was going to kill her. She could just imagine: “THIS IS NOT WHAT GOD WANTED!” and church camp for another three months. This was what she got for dressing as an angel for Halloween. Jack, like her, was standing stock-still, transfixed. Sylvie braced herself for a very stern telling off; what happened was even worse. The caretaker pulled a switchblade out of the folds of his coat. Sylvie screamed. Was this old man going to try and kill them? Jack stepped forward: “Look, sir, we’re really sorry, it won't happen again- can we just go and promise to never come back?” The man grunted. “No one disturbs her grave.” “Er… what?” “INSOLENT!” shouted the man. He staggered forward; was he drunk or arthritic? Sylvie cursed inwardly. How could she have let the boy who’d broken her heart put her in this situation? A breakup was one thing, but getting murdered by a tiny old man with a switchblade? That was so much worse. Was it some kind of sick joke? She glared at James, but he didn’t seem to notice- or, if he did, he ignored her. Suddenly, things took an even stranger turn. The old caretaker’s eyes rolled back in his head. They both watched, helpless, as the man trembled in place. Then the air pressure shifted and Sylvie felt her ears pop. A chill washed over her, and she shivered. Strange, muffled whispering surrounded her. The man’s mouth began to move jerkily, but the garbled voice that came out wasn’t his. It sounded like a young woman. “Children,” it said. Sylvie could see that this description irritated Jack, but frankly, he had about the intelligence of an infant. “You have disturbed my grave. My fiance has protected me, but you shall plague these catacombs no longer. Leave now, and let you not return. I am feeling merciful.” Sylvie and James stayed paralysed. “LEAVE!” The old man’s body fell limply to the floor. They ran. Sylvie ran all the way home without even stopping to say goodbye. She couldn’t even fathom what had just happened. Ugh. Halloween really was the worst night of the year. EPILOGUE John opened his eyes to a blinding light. Standing over him- no, it couldn’t be- “Desdemona?” “Obviously, darling,” she smiled, her face aglow. Her green eyes sparkled, her dark hair was falling out of its careful updo. “Where are we?” “Ha! I think you know.” She offered a hand. “Come on. Let’s get married!” And together they walked into the afterlife. FIN
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
October 2022
Categories |