Trick-Or-Treat

Some may say Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, but for John, it’s Halloween.  This year was no exception.  The weather was clear, chill relegated to the very outer edges of conscious thought as he walked up the front stoop of the small grey bungalow.  The door was framed by a pair of grinning candle-lit pumpkins.  John rang the doorbell and stood back a bit.  A few moments later, it opened to a slightly haggard-looking, mid-fortyish housewife, looking like she just awoke from a Rip-Van-Winkle kind of nap.

“Well look at you,” she cooed in the practiced tone of interest only a mother would understand.

John smiled shyly.  He knew the part well.

“Trick-or-treat?!”

“Well obviously  treat hon.  Just let me grab the candy bucket.”

She turned her back to John, which presented the perfect opportunity.  His jaw opened wide and within an instant, his teeth morphed into an oh-so-familiar shape.  For the vampiric costume he was wearing was no costume at all.  If only he hadn’t wandered into those woods on that foggy night more than sixteen human years ago.  Now he had nothing but time to reflect on his youthful mistakes.  And every Halloween night made his craft and his birthright so much easier to perform.

Before the women even had a chance, he bit hard into her neck, arterial blood shooting out into the hallway.  His fangs sank deeper until the tendons keeping the head attached to the body gave way.  It fell in front of him and rolled down the steps, ending in the middle of the front yard.  As the rest of her slumped to the carpet, his fangs quickly retracted.  He ran out into the yard, grabbed the head and bowled it into the house, watching it crash against an end table before coming to a rest, the eyes frozen with utter terror.  He gently closed the door and walked nonchalantly down to the next block, stopping in front of a blue split-level on the corner.  It was bathed in all sorts of streamers, lights, and various other knickknacks to celebrate the holiday.  He went up the walkway and would have rang the bell were it not for the fact that the owners had clearly been watching him.

“Hello there!  Such a great costume!,” said the female half of the pair standing now at the opened door.  The wrinkles on both her and the man who stood next to her betrayed lives filled with experience, wisdom, love, and blood so rich the finest cake could not compare.

Lovely, he thought.  I haven’t had aged wine in forever.  He smiled as he had before.

“Trick-or Treat!?”

“Oh I have treats for you!  How’s a nice delicious apple?”  The woman opened the door wide, holding a small red apple in her right hand.

Looks like I’m doing the earth a favor, John thought while outwardly he smiled and reached with his left hand to grab the apple.  As he touched her hand, his fangs sprang out once more, biting into her wrist, sucking at the scarlet blood that leaped into his open mouth.  With superhuman speed, his right hand grasped the male and gripped him tightly around the throat.  From her wrist, he traveled upward to the throbbing vein in her neck, made even more enticing by her sheer terror.  When he had his fill of her, he turned towards the male, whose face was now turning blue from the lack of oxygen.  He relaxed his grip just enough to give the tiniest bit of hope to the male that he would live, just before John punctured his neck.  He began gulping the blood, feeling the warm textures flow down his throat.  Oh so heavenly, he sighed.

When he was done, he simply lifted each body up and dropped them into the living room, now so unfortunately named.  Closing and locking the door behind him, he walked further down the block until he came upon a small, cheap kit house.  It was dark, looking practically abandoned.  Clearly was not as enamored with the holiday, John thought.  Or forgot to buy candy.  It took a couple knocks before the young man, 20-something, opened the inner door, keeping the screened portion closed.

Grinning with expected fervor, John called out as he had before.

“Trick-Or-Treat!?”

The man looked back at him with a sly, knowing grin.

“How about a trick?”

There’s always one, John thought.

With practiced resignation, he sprang the fangs from his teeth, baring them to the young man.  He leaped back a little from the screen door.  After a few seconds he returned, eyes wide with impressed amazement.

That’s some trick!  How the hell did you do that?”

John smiled wider.  Oh the power of parlor tricks.

“How about opening up the door so I can show you?”

 

 

Happy Halloween everyone!

 

 

 

 

 

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