Superstition
Have you heard?
“Have you heard?” Natalie whispered, the candle light flickering across her face. Her eyes were barely visible in the shadows of the attic, the iris appearing dark, and hollow.
“Heard what?” Andy asked, attempting to hide the fear in her voice that was caused by Halloween. Natalie smiled, gazing into the burning flame, her eyes suddenly snapping up to meet Andy’s, making her jump.
“The stories,” She murmured, a glint of excitement in her eyes, “About her.”
She traveled with insane speed, a black hood covering where her eyes once were.
“What are you talking about Natalie?” Andy finally hissed, her skin crawling. Natalie smirked, sending more chills through the other girl’s body. She stared into the candle, watching the flame sway in the wind of the open window high above them.
“Helen.”
The mention of her name beckoned her to the house, her ghostly form filling with hunger for a kill.
“Who’s that?” Andy asked, uncertain of whether she really wanted to know. Natalie continued to stare at the fire, her face somber.
“She was a girl, our age. Before she was killed.”
“What happened?” Andy inquired quietly, her curiosity winning over her fear. Natalie continued without hesitation.
“She was born in 1675, and died 1692. She was falsely accused of performing witch craft. They ‘found’ her guilty in her trial, and she was to be publicly executed. But Helen was young, and she didn’t want her life to be over. So she ran away.”
Andy leaned in, absorbed in the story.
“A mob followed her, her friends and family even chasing after her, wanting her blood to be spilled. Just as Helen was almost to a large forest by her village, she ran through a field. Her father was hidden amongst the tall stalks of corn. As she reached him, he jumped out, swinging the sickle he held and cut off her head.”
Andy gasped, a wave of new fear running over her.
“Her dad?” She repeated, her blue eyes widening. Natalie finally met her friend’s eyes.
“They say that if you speak her name on Halloween, she’ll find you.”
A grin spread across her pale face, as she came to a halt in front of the old two story house. The attic window was open, a dim light making the room above glow.
“B-but you said her name!” Andy cried, point accusingly at Natalie. Natalie’s smirk returned.
“I know,” She said, keeping unwavering eye contact with her now terrified friend. Andy scooted back, getting to her feet.
“It’s just a superstition. It’s not real!”
Natalie laughed a dark and low laugh. She got to her feet, watching Andy.
“Then why are you so afraid?”
Silently up the stairs she came, sickle in hand.
“What’s wrong with you Natalie?! Why are you being so weird?!” Andy cried, stepping back towards the attic door. A cold gust of wind blew through the room, the candle going out.
“She’s here.”
The attic door flew open and Andy spun around, shrieking.
She glided past the screaming girl, who backed up against a wall. The girl with the dark hair stood her ground, smiling adoringly at her.
“I knew you were real,” She murmured, closing her eyes.
She swung the sickle, the girls head rolling off her neck and across the wooden floor, a smile still on her face. The other girl screamed, sliding to the floor.
“Natalie no,” She sobbed, hugging her knees to her chest.
Turning slowly, her empty eye sockets met the trembling girls eyes.
“I’m just a superstition Andy,” Helen stated, swinging the sickle again
“Heard what?” Andy asked, attempting to hide the fear in her voice that was caused by Halloween. Natalie smiled, gazing into the burning flame, her eyes suddenly snapping up to meet Andy’s, making her jump.
“The stories,” She murmured, a glint of excitement in her eyes, “About her.”
She traveled with insane speed, a black hood covering where her eyes once were.
“What are you talking about Natalie?” Andy finally hissed, her skin crawling. Natalie smirked, sending more chills through the other girl’s body. She stared into the candle, watching the flame sway in the wind of the open window high above them.
“Helen.”
The mention of her name beckoned her to the house, her ghostly form filling with hunger for a kill.
“Who’s that?” Andy asked, uncertain of whether she really wanted to know. Natalie continued to stare at the fire, her face somber.
“She was a girl, our age. Before she was killed.”
“What happened?” Andy inquired quietly, her curiosity winning over her fear. Natalie continued without hesitation.
“She was born in 1675, and died 1692. She was falsely accused of performing witch craft. They ‘found’ her guilty in her trial, and she was to be publicly executed. But Helen was young, and she didn’t want her life to be over. So she ran away.”
Andy leaned in, absorbed in the story.
“A mob followed her, her friends and family even chasing after her, wanting her blood to be spilled. Just as Helen was almost to a large forest by her village, she ran through a field. Her father was hidden amongst the tall stalks of corn. As she reached him, he jumped out, swinging the sickle he held and cut off her head.”
Andy gasped, a wave of new fear running over her.
“Her dad?” She repeated, her blue eyes widening. Natalie finally met her friend’s eyes.
“They say that if you speak her name on Halloween, she’ll find you.”
A grin spread across her pale face, as she came to a halt in front of the old two story house. The attic window was open, a dim light making the room above glow.
“B-but you said her name!” Andy cried, point accusingly at Natalie. Natalie’s smirk returned.
“I know,” She said, keeping unwavering eye contact with her now terrified friend. Andy scooted back, getting to her feet.
“It’s just a superstition. It’s not real!”
Natalie laughed a dark and low laugh. She got to her feet, watching Andy.
“Then why are you so afraid?”
Silently up the stairs she came, sickle in hand.
“What’s wrong with you Natalie?! Why are you being so weird?!” Andy cried, stepping back towards the attic door. A cold gust of wind blew through the room, the candle going out.
“She’s here.”
The attic door flew open and Andy spun around, shrieking.
She glided past the screaming girl, who backed up against a wall. The girl with the dark hair stood her ground, smiling adoringly at her.
“I knew you were real,” She murmured, closing her eyes.
She swung the sickle, the girls head rolling off her neck and across the wooden floor, a smile still on her face. The other girl screamed, sliding to the floor.
“Natalie no,” She sobbed, hugging her knees to her chest.
Turning slowly, her empty eye sockets met the trembling girls eyes.
“I’m just a superstition Andy,” Helen stated, swinging the sickle again
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