This Is Halloween

"What is that supposed to mean?" Christie asked nervously. Bob's expression held a manic look to it.

"She got raped...and then she killed," Bob said, staring at Christie and slowly making his way to her. The other boys looked amused by his theatrics. "She lost her mind. She killed the man that raped her, chopping off his head out of rage. A head that is rotting in this house, they say.”

The way he spoke, I admit, began to frighten me; his eyes were as insane as his voice was menacing.

“Then, she went out and killed all the men in the town—eventually there were none left,” Bob went on, Christie against a wall now. She looked horrified. “Women were left to fend for themselves and their sons. But she still lived here. Until the mothers found her here…and killed her. They say her spirit still remains. And her last words were: 'men are scum'!"

The way he yelled out the last three words made me jump. We were all staring at him. Then Gerard broke into a one-man applause.

"Gotta give you props, dude," he said. "Christie looked pretty damn scared." Bob smiled proudly at the rest of us. Christie shoved Bob away.

"It doesn't take much to scare her," Ray muttered. She glared at him.

"What happened to the town, then?" I ask. "Did their used to be a town here?"

"Burned down...mysteriously," Bob stated, grinning. He, of course, believed none of it—if he did, he wouldn’t be using it to scare us. "They tried to get rid of her or something...but the house stayed. And so did she."

I felt something on my back and screamed. Everyone laughed. I looked back. Mikey smiled innocently, pulling his hands away from my waist.

"We should break up into pairs," he said. I poked him in the stomach, which he hated.

"We're an odd numbered group, dude," Frank said.

"Then we'll break up into threes."

"There are seven of us."

"Yeah."

"It's no wonder you're failing math."

Mikey stuck out his tongue at Frank. The rest of us laughed.

It was decided that Frank and I would go upstairs, so would Ray. Christie suggested Ray shouldn't stay by himself because the ones that stay by themselves "always die first!" Gerard and Mikey went to the basement. Bob and Christie stayed in the living room. Everyone had flashlights.

The staircases were creaky. I kept close to Frank.

After splitting from Ray, we found a bedroom. We searched the area, looking for something. Anything. I wasn't sure what. Dust particles made me cough. I could hear tiny footsteps on the floor accompanying my slow and steady ones. My light stayed on the walls until it reflected against a body-length mirror. The glass was shattered. I took a few steps away, careful not to step on any glass that might be on the floor.

"Miranda," Frank called to me in a whisper. "Come here."

I flashed the light on him.

"Get off of that!" I hissed at him. He was sitting on a bed with a pink blanket on top of it. It was a bed meant for a child, I could tell.

"Look at this," Frank said, holding up a framed photo that he had previously lit with his flashlight. I slowly walked over to it, not daring to actually sit on an old bed that might belong to a bitter ghost. I kept the light on the photo and once I'd reached it, I saw it was of a man and a young looking girl.

"Not much younger than us," I whispered, studying the background of the photo. There was a tire swing behind them hanging from a tree. Like the one in the front of the house. Only in the picture, the tree was full of life, sprouting leaves from every branch. The man looked angry and the girl looked sad. She held a noticeable resemblance to him. Her eyes, especially; they were an icy blue that was almost unnatural. The frame had words engraved into it: 'Daddy's little girl'.

"I saw the tire swing outside," he said.

"So?" I said.

"So...I'm just saying."

Frank put the photo back down onto the dresser that he had picked it up from. I flashed my own light onto it. I gasped at the long piece of glass, covered with what can only be dried blood. Frank chuckled.

“Don’t be scared,” he assured me, with a chuckle. “It’s just a silly little ghost story.”

I smiled at him, realizing how stupid I was being. Someone had probably left that there to scare stupid kids like myself that dared come to this house on Halloween. Frank grinned, gesturing with his flashlight for me to sit on his lap. I, of course, obliged. He flashed his light on my face for my benefit. I flashed mine on his.

“You haven’t given me a birthday present, Rand,” he said, smiling a very luscious smile.

“Oh?” I said innocently. He nodded. “Well…what would you like, Frank Iero?”

Frank pressed his lips against my earlobe, turning off his light in the process. I felt my cheeks burn up. When he pulled away, he pointed to his lips. I smiled.

“Happy birthday,” I told him, leaning down.

I turned off my flashlight, leaving us in total darkness. I held his face with my hands, pulling it closer to mine. I wasn’t even afraid. My eyes fluttering close and—

"HOLY SHIT!"

I almost fell off of Frank.

"Guys!" It was Ray's frantic voice. "Guys, come see this!"

Frank turned on his flashlight. He stood and held out his hand for me to take. We left the room, holding hands. Bob and Christie met us at the top of the stairs, Christie looking horrified. Bob turned on his flashlight and pointed it at mine and Frank’s hands. He raised a brow quizzically. We followed Ray's voice.

It led us to another bedroom. Frank and Bob flashed their flashlight on Ray.

"I just opened the closet door and it came out," Ray said. He pointed to the ground. Our flashlights followed his finger. Christie and I screamed.

"Disembodiment," Bob said.

I gagged. There was a head on the floor.