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Today is the beginning of Dani and Jax's SPOOKTOBERFEST! over at Entertaining Interests. The fun goes from Oct. 25-28 and features short fiction based on a photo and using at least three particular words. Here's one of my entries. The second one will run Sunday.
Three words had to be used in the story from the following list. Mine are in bold in my story.
WRETCH(ED), IMPEDING, ALIEN(S), SKELETON(S), POTION(S), MASK(S)
By. C.A. Verstraete
"Hank? Where are you? Quit playing games."
Once again, I'd fallen for one of my brother's wretched ideas. I should've known when we ended up traipsing through the woods to the old, abandoned Foreman mansion that he was pulling my leg. Again. "Hank?"
I screamed as the glow-in the-dark skeleton bones on the front of his costume popped up in front of me. "Quit doing that, would you? Now where's this party? Are you sure we're in the right place?"
"Yeah. C'mon, chicken." He grabbed my hand and started up the stairs. "Mask on. Let's go!"
I pulled the sparkly fairy mask over my eyes, adjusted it to make sure I could see, and slid my hand along the wall as we took the steps one by one. "Wait, don't go so fast. Slow down!"
It seemed like every hair on my head stood on end as we made our way to a spooky, dark landing—and a wall. The hall went in two directions. I grimaced and let go of Hank's hand to brush away a spider web, my patience fading.
"Okay, wise guy, which way? You could've brought a flashlight, you know?"
He grunted behind his glowing skeleton mask and grabbed my hand again, leading me to the left. I stumbled over something and tripped, but still he went forward. I stumbled again. Relief filled me at sight of the light behind the door ahead. I couldn't wait to sit down with a cold beer.
I reached for the doorknob and cursed at the sound of scuffling behind me. Darn him. "Hank? Quit goofing off. I’m tired of standing here in the dark."
The door creaked open and bathed the hall in light. I turned and stared, my mind not comprehending the dark pool at Hank's feet. "Hank? What's wrong? Why is your costume torn?"
With shaking fingers, I lifted his mask and began to scream. He stared at me from eyeless sockets, the blood dripping down his face like tears.
I backed up, unable to escape. My mind went mercifully blank as skeletal arms and bony hands reached for me through the shredded remnants of his costume.