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By R. R. Stark

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When the young couple moved to Mellowbook, they knew very little about their surrounding neighborhood, and even less about their own basement, but they would soon find out, as the Midnight after Halloween swiftly approached!

A gust of autumn wind carrying rustling leaves blew across the old wooden porch causing the flame inside the bright orange jack-o-lantern danced wickedly. The azure twilight sky of dusk seemed to glow around the silhouette of the darkening landscape, where gnarly elms looked like twisted hands of witches, picket fences looked like rows of dangerous spikes, and the countless living jack-o-lanterns on all the October porches were severed heads of hideous monsters who wore ghastly grins. Giggling and laughter was heard from children skipping, running, or walking down the streets or sidewalks, who were transformed into ghosts and goblins, or pirates and witches, and aliens and demons.  And they all carried mysterious bags, for they were collectors, scavengers of sweet goods, and their victims willingly gave forth of these needful treats, lest they must perform some kind of hideous trick.

For a long time the puritanical people in the town of Mellowbook harshly frowned on the old trick-or-treat tradition, although some families still carried it on. Soon . . . things changed.

There was an old story, perhaps just an urban legend, that a magician lived in town who opened his door to the Halloween children, and for a while his magic acts sufficed.  But there was one group of children in ninja outfits, perhaps a little larger than usual, that wanted treats, and when the magician’s tricks did not satisfy them, they slashed and beat him to death -- or so the story went.  However, true or not, all of the townspeople zealously celebrated the Halloween trick-or-treat tradition ever since -- as if this would ward off any evil attackers.  The people of Mellowbook were very superstitious.

Jim and Kate Winslow were no exception, a young couple in their twenties.  They had lived here only one year, and moved into the residential neighborhood on Sycamore Street, where most of the people enjoyed the Halloween tradition. This was one street where you could find jack-o-lanterns and straw-filled scarecrows, and stuffed witches on broomsticks decorating the yards and porches.  After school this Fall, children were always seen raking dried leaves into piles, then they would jump, arms spread out, landing in the crunching heaps. But this evening of Halloween, there were no leaf raking rituals, but there were only scary costume and trick-or-treating rituals on the night of this dying day, for when this day died, the night became alive. For everyone knows that Halloween is a nighttime holiday, and it begins after the sun has set -- but has anyone ever asked when it ends?  Does it end at midnight, when the new day officially begins, although the skies are still dark?  Perhaps midnight is when Halloween really begins.

            Although the Winslows had been in Mellowbook for only one year, they still had several unpacked boxes they had stashed along the walls of the basement, and since they were not basement people, they rarely ventured down there.  They had become quite familiar with all the rooms, and crooks and crannies of their beautiful two-story house, but they knew very little about their own basement.  Perhaps it required something sinister during a Halloween night to bring them to become familiar with this unknown place in their new house. And this would be their first Halloween here in Mellowbook.

Jim and Kate had their big plastic bowls of candy ready to go, sitting on a square folding table by the front door. Kate dressed herself up like a green-faced witch, complete with fake drooping nose and jutting chin, and horizontally striped orange and black socks, and the typical pointed witch’s hat.  She was indeed very ominous looking, especially when she gave the usual witch’s cackle, which she had been practicing all day long -- to Jim's irritation. Jim dressed up like a scurvy pirate, with tattered pants torn off at the knees, a plastic sword in his wide belt, a red scarf tied around his head and the usual black patch over one eye. He didn't need to practice his pirate’s snarl, but he did it every time she witch-cackled, just to get back at her.  It was all very innocent and playful, of course.

They were both ready for that night, that dreaded time of the trick-or-treaters, sneaking from door-to-door, collecting their goodies.  So the doorbell would ring, they opened the door, and Kate would cackle sinisterly, "Aaah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"  and Jim would give his menacing pirate snarl, "Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr!"  The hideously costumed children would giggle and laugh, while holding out there half-full plunder bags, and the wicked witch and the scurvy pirates would toss them a few treats each, some candy bars or gumballs, perhaps some licorice sticks or lollipops, and other fun assortments.

In between such bell ringing sessions, instigated by the little scavenger, who only wanted tasty treats and no tricks, the witch and the pirate would drink hot spiced cider and nibble on their own personal stash of sweets.  She had made chocolate brownies and apple cobbler and candied apples and pumpkin pies for themselves, and they were all laid out in an orange and black checkerboard tablecloth covered folding table. Not that they were too greedy to give these scrumptious homemade goodies to the foraging children, but they thought the youngsters would appreciate candy instead -- and perhaps this was just a lame excuse.

In the living room on their widescreen 26” TV they were watching DVDs of John Carpenter's Halloween series, whose infamous antihero, Michael Myers, gave everyone the creeps, including Jim and Kate, but on nights like, this they didn't mind being creeped-out. Or that's what they believed so far, but the night was young.

After Halloween III, the ghouls and goblins and ghosts seeking sweet plunder became sparse.  There were fewer rings at the door.  In fact, Jim and Kate became very comfortable on their living room couch for an hour and a half, intently watching Halloween IV -- when there was a startling heavy knocking at the door.  Jim and Kate looked at each other, astonished.

Kate gasped, "Why aren’t they ringing the bell?"

Jim replied," I don't know.  Let’s go find out."

Jim clicked Pause on remote, set it down, and the couple got up and ran to the door.  They opened it, preparing to cackle and snarl -- when they stopped short, beholding something they only heard in urban legends of Mellowbook. There were five black suited ninjas, a little larger than the usual children that had come tonight, perhaps teenagers.

One of them said in a deep gravelly voice, "Treats, no tricks."

Jim felt shivers creep up his spine, and Kate had goosebumps crawl up the flesh of her arms.  Only the dark eyes in the dark masks could be seen, no other hint of humanity.  And they carried in their arms large paper grocery bags, already full.  But one of them handed to the others fresh folded bags, and after they set the bulging bags down, they opened them up immediately and held them out.

One of them growled, "Fill ‘er up -- or else!"

Immediately, Jim and Kate took the plastic bowls of what was left of the candy and dumped them into the bags, trying to distribute them evenly.  But there wasn't much left after all the children had gotten their fair share.

One of the ninjas growled, "Is that all?" One hand holding his bag, the other slowly pulled something out of a pocket, revealing something metal and shiny.

“H-h-hang on there," Jim stammered. "We've got more inside."

Jim and Kate grabbed the rest of their chocolate brownies and apple cobbler and the candied apples and pumpkin pies and tossed them into the brown paper bags.

Kate blurted, "Keep the dishes."

The five ninjas took their heavy bags, turned and went down the steps and returned to the sidewalk, ambling casually along, apparently in no rush.  Jim and Kate closed the door, both trembling and sweating.

"Do you think--?" Kate shot frantically.

"I don't know," Jim shook his head. "The neighbors just told us crazy stories about this."

"But it could've been -- them."

"But even if that incident ever did take place, it must've been many years ago -- could've been twenty or so years back."

"I suppose your right."

Jim chuckled weakly, "They were probably just teenagers having fun with people.  See how many goodies they can get from people."

"That's a cruel trick to pull, resorting to some ghastly urban legend," she snarled.

Jim shrugged, "Oh well. That's typical for teenagers."

"You're right. But it was pretty frightening."

"Let's just forget it and watch the movie."

"After that?"

" Fine.  We’ll watch a romantic comedy. How about Sleepless in Seattle?"

"You're on."

After tonight, the Winslows would discover that they would be forever sleepless in Mellowbook.

They walked back into the living room, observing that their little orange and black checkerboard tablecloth covered table was empty, as if realizing it for the first time.  In a sense, they had been robbed. Jim frowned and Kate sighed.

"Now what will we snack on during the movie?"  Jim griped.

Kate scratched her head, then she smiled.  "I know.  There's a bottle of red wine in the cabinet and a large chunk of cheddar cheese in the fridge. And a box of Saltine crackers on the counter."

"Sounds appetizing," Jim grinned.

It was sometime after 11:00 p.m., and the porch light had long since been turned off, detracting anymore trick-or-treaters, especially of the sinister ninja variety.  The bottle of wine was nearly empty, cheese and crackers darn near gone, and the movie was over, leaving only the end credits to roll.

Kate sighed, "Halloween will soon be over."

Jim said, "Why do you say that?  Do you believe it’ll be over at midnight?"

"For me it will be," she said.  "I'll be in bed fast asleep."

“Then let's hurry upstairs before we turn into pumpkins at the stroke of midnight!"

He tickled her and she giggled, as she playfully kicking at him.

So they ran up the stairs and into the bedroom.  Soon they were under their warm covers, snuggling and giggling and whispering and fondling, finding it difficult to fall asleep right away.

"If we had stayed downstairs after midnight, what do you suppose would have happened?"  Kate chuckled.

"Oh, we would have been eaten alive by horrible monsters," he growled, then he opened his mouth wide and gnawed on her shoulder. She giggled and playfully scratched at him.

Midnight was indeed fast approaching, but this was no sign that Halloween would be over.  In fact, the eerie night just began.

Suddenly they heard a piercing shriek -- from somewhere downstairs.  They froze, listening again -- but heard nothing further.

"What the hell was that?"  Kate gasped.

"Hopefully just kids," Jim supposed.

"Curfew is at ten o’clock."

"When you were that age, didn't you stay out late sometimes -- regardless of the curfew?"

            "A few times."

            "All right then."

            They resnuggled under the covers again, feeling the warmth of warm blankets and there bodies -- but that dreadful shrieking paralyzed them again.

Kate whispered, "I could swear it was coming from downstairs --somewhere."

"I doubt it.  It's gotta be from outside."

"Are you going to check it out, dear -- just to  make sure we're safe?"

"I don't want to leave you alone. Let's  go together.  I'm sure it's nothing."

"Oh alright," she huffed. 

Crawling out of bed, Jim flung on his robe and grabbed the flashlight off the bed stand, and she put her robe on also and followed him as he left the bedroom.  They eased down the stairs, his flashlight leading the way.  They stopped when they heard a whining shriek that died shortly.

"It could be an animal in pain, out front or something," Jim guessed.

"I hope so," Kate nodded.  "I mean -- I hate to think of some animal in pain, but I just hope it's nothing horrifying."

"Like what?  A prowling werewolf?"  Jim chuckled.

Suddenly they heard a canine howling, long and piercing, before it faded.

"Yes, exactly," Kate gasped.

They slowly descended the stairs, and entered the dark living room.  There was only silence now, so they stopped, looking this way and that.

Jim pondered, "I'm not sure where it was coming from, so we’ll just have to wait until we hear it again."

She grabbed his arm, trembling.  "I don't wanna wait for anything.  I just wanna get this done with and go back to bed, dear."

"Well, hopefully it's nothing serious, so --"

Then they heard the most eerie high-pitched screeching -- from somewhere below them.

"I-I-It’s under the f-f-floor, "Kate whispered.

" Impossible!”  Jim muffled his exclamation.

"But it came from the basement."

"That's ridiculous."

"But we have to check it out -- just to be sure there's nothing down there.”

"Of course.  I just don't like basements -- they're naturally creepy."

She nudged him and said, "It's Halloween, things are supposed to be creepy."

They continued walking and turned down the hall and came to the basement door, which had been locked for several months now.  They had stored some boxes and just left them there.  Fortunately, or not, the key lay atop dusty narrow ledge above the door.  Jim reluctantly reached up and grabbed it.  He inserted it into the keyhole and turned it, unlocking the door. Then he cautiously gripped the knob, and slowly turned it and opened the door, then slowly pushed it inward.  He and his flashlight eased down the stairs, she following, and they slowly stepped downward.  Each step caused the stairs to creak noisily.  Jim tried to step down more slowly and softly, but each board creaked just as loudly.

"Shshshshshsh," Kate hissed.

"I can't help it," he whispered. "Besides, you're doing it too."

As she took a step behind him, causing the stair to creak just as badly, she apologized, "Sorry."

Suddenly they heard another loud piercing shriek -- still from somewhere down below.  A sinister chill ran up their spines as their neck ears prickled and goosebumps formed in their arms.

"What in God's name is that awful noise?"  Kate gasped.

"If I knew, I’d probably have sense to run back up the stairs and hide."

"Chicken."

During the silence, the cautiously continued down the creaking stairs, until they reached the dusty cement floor.  Jim wiped a net of cobwebs away as they entered the main area of the basement.  As he flashed light around, he saw the unpacked boxes lining the walls, and other miscellaneous junk laying around, all covered with dust and creepy cobwebs hung from the ceilings everywhere. They even saw little spiders dangling in their webs here and there.

"It really is creepy down here," Kate mused.

"I told you I don't like basements," Jim reemphasized.

"Me too."

They slowly walked across the open floor, and the stale musty air was not pleasant to breathe.  They smelled something else too, something putrid."

Kay suggested, "Something must have die down here."

"Probably just a rat," Jim suggested.

"I think something bigger."

"What?  Like a person?"

She hit him in the arm.

They continued cautiously and slowly walking across the floor, Jim moving the flashlight this way and that, trying to see anything out of the ordinary.

"If there was somebody or something down here, making some kind of weird noise, we'd see it by now.  There's nothing down here but the boxes."

Then they began to hear several hooting and shrieking voices, almost in a rhythmic undulating chanting arrangement in ragged unison.

"What the hell?!"  Jim shot as they stopped dead in their tracks.

What -- who the hell is that?!"

Whatever the eerie sounds were, they were definitely not in the basement, but they were emanating from someplace on the other side of the far basement wall were several large boxes were stacked.

"It can’t be coming from inside those boxes, certainly," Kate postulated.

"Impossible," he assured her.

They approach the boxes, still hearing the eerie chanting sound of hooting and shrieking and squealing and howling, a very eerie form of chanting indeed.

"I think somebody's playing a sick joke on us," Kate decided.

"Let's hope that's all it is," Jim agreed.

"Those animalistic primal sounds are a little too disturbing for me."

"Some teenager probably placed a boombox somewhere down here with sick Halloween noises and left the volume cranked up."

"It doesn't sound like a CD playing. It sounds too real and live."

Jim shrugged and said, "We'll find out soon enough."

"I'm afraid to find out."

They came to the boxes and Jim began grabbing them and moving them aside, and she reluctantly helped. They half expected that boombox to be inside one of the boxes, placed there by some prankster, but no such luck.  As they moved the boxes aside, they realized the uncanny sounds were coming from the other side of the wall.  Very soon, after moving aside the last few boxes, they revealed an old wooden door in the wall, and the sounds were louder now, considering they were no longer muffled by the heavy boxes.

"I don't remember this door ever being here," Jim mused.

"Neither do I," Kate concurred.

"Let's just get this over with."

 "I'm with you."  Grabbing his arm tight she whispered, "B-but it's only a few minutes to midnight, and we should be getting to bed."

"You are superstitious, aren't you?"

"A little bit."

"I'd say a lot. Nothing's going to happen."

The cacophony of the eerie undulating chanting rattled their nerves, causing them to shudder all over, but something drew them onward, keeping them from running, as if some unseen force were subtly nudging them. Reluctantly, Jim reached for the badly tarnished brass doorknob, as his hand shook noticeably, and he gripped it and turned it, slowly opening the creaking door.  They peered down a narrow dark tunnel built from old red bricks, and the low ceiling arched over their heads as they carefully entered. That putrid odor grew stronger now and the bizarre rhythmic chanting of ghastly voices seemed louder as they approached their horrifying source.

Kate grabbed Jim's arm tighter now as they slowly walked along the tunnel, cobwebs brushing across the tops of the heads.  They waved their arms about to push them aside.  At this point they couldn't tell if the voices were human or inhuman, or animal, or a combination of these.

Jim tried to say something, but his throat tightened up, and Kate choked too.  Neither could speak at this point, for they were frightened to death, but ironically, they found it difficult to simply turn and flee.  It was more than just their overwhelming sense of curiosity; some ominous supernatural force was drawing them onward.

The tunnel curved slightly to the left as Jim aimed the flashlight ahead of them, as they saw scurrying, squeaking rats flee forward from them.  Soon they noticed another old wooden door at the end of the tunnel. They slowly approached it, brushing aside more disgusting cobwebs.  When they reached it, they saw the door vibrating as the ghastly chanting voices reverberated against it.  Kate imagined the force of the hideous sounds knocking the door clear off its hinges, as if she had expected that to happen.  But instead Jim's trembling hand grabbed the knob and slowly turned it, opening the door as it creaked rustily on its ancient hinges.  Then Jim grabbed Kate's and gripped it tightly as they entered.

The heinous screeching of otherworldly creatures became unbearable as they entered a large basement room, similar to their own, but obviously beneath the house of the other neighbor.  Suddenly the sinister noise stopped, as cleverly costumed people turned to greet their new guests.  Jim and Kate felt relieved.

Then Kate said to Jim, almost apologetically, "I totally spaced it out.  The Carbuncles had planned a Halloween party for the whole neighborhood.  They invited us weeks ago -- but I forgot."

They also observed large tables presenting a Halloween feast of cakes and bowls of punch and candy and other treats, and they even saw what was left of their dishes of chocolate brownies and apple cobbler and candied apples into pumpkin pies.  Not only did they notice the costumed witches and goblins and ghosts and werewolves and vampires and so forth, but in front of the masquerading crowd they noticed those ominous five black suited ninjas.  They began to realize just how strong that odious putrid smell was now, reminding them of rotting flesh.

Jim and Kate began to frown, not sure what to think or do.  But they began to feel as if they had made a terrible mistake.

Suddenly Jim's wristwatch alarm began to buzz annoyingly, at the stroke of midnight.  At that moment all the people in unison tore off their masks, revealing who they really were: ghastly, hideous creatures of the living dead!  The horribly frightened couple witnessed dead skin barely hanging off skulls, rubbery white eyeballs glaring from dark sockets,  and gaping naked jaws revealing rows of long white teeth as the creatures screeched hideously, and there arms reached out with horrifying skeleton hands grabbing at them as the maddening crowd inched toward the terrified couple, clawing at their clothes and the ripe flesh beneath. 

Kate in Jim quickly turned and ran through the doorway and back down the tunnel, across the basement floor, and they dashed up the rickety stairs -- with the ghastly crowd of shrieking demonic zombies following right behind them!

"When we get upstairs, grab the car keys!"  Jim cried.

"Okay!"  Kate panted.

"We should've never moved into this wretched neighborhood. But we’re moving out now -- and fast!  If they don't get us first!"

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Copyright September 2007 by R. R. Stark

Bamblebrush Press

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