Halloween Populars
Chapter One
A ghostly laugh that made the woman lying on the floor look up in alarm. A mystical shout that made the man watching from beside the woman turn away. “Gotcha!” Cried a girl who was sitting at the woman’s feet. And she raised a hand, causing the woman to writhe and scream, with pain or shock Clover didn’t know. The girl left the woman lying limply on the floor. Then she turned to the man.
Clover didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t look away. The girl screamed like a banshee, but it was a beautiful sound. A banshee who sang as she screamed, thought Clover. Then the girl flung her gaze on the man and he rose from the ground as half of his face melted away. . .
The girl watched, laughing, as the man yelled soundlessly. It was horrifying to watch as the woman tried to back away, still writhing with pain, from the horrible man. The girl watched, amused, for a minute, then she turned to Clover, who since then had been an innocent bystander.
But now innocent bystander was victim. The girl turned on her, and Clover wanted to scream with fright. But then the girl began to blur and mangled hands began to soar through the air towards Clover. A lump rose into her throat as the hands reached for her, trying to grab her.
Clover ran, and tried to holler as she did, but it was no use. Then the hands reaching for her grew closer and the girl, still giggling, leapt through the air and landed beside Clover. Then, smiling cruelly, the girl pushed Clover roughly.
And now the floor was coming closer, and the girl was laughing and it was ringing in Clover’s ears. “Shut up!” Clover cried, but the girl just began to sing her banshee song. Then the floor engulfed Clover and she was no more.
--
Clover Burnes looked at her alarm clock. This was the first time since kindergarten that she had woken up before seven.
The nightmare had been too real. The hands she’d seen reaching for her, the horrible deformed man, the writhing woman. . . and the girl. . . Clover shuddered. But even now the details of the nightmare were fading.
Clover knew, though, that she’d remember the fear she’d felt from the nightmare for a long time.
It was nearly Halloween, she thought, glancing at the calendar that hung on the wall across from her bed.
“Clover? Is that you?” Her mother hollered up the stairs, as Clover got out of bed and stood on a creaking floorboard.
“Yes, it’s me!”
“Come downstairs and have your breakfast; it’s six-fifty and soon you’ll be late for school!”
Clover stretched and grabbed a pen from the messy floor. She circled the 30th of October that was on the calendar.
One day until Halloween!
“Clover! Hurry up! Don’t make me come up there!”
“Alright, mother! Don’t lose your head!”
And, gritting her teeth, Clover left the room.
1500 metres away, forty girls got ready for Halloween.
Clover didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t look away. The girl screamed like a banshee, but it was a beautiful sound. A banshee who sang as she screamed, thought Clover. Then the girl flung her gaze on the man and he rose from the ground as half of his face melted away. . .
The girl watched, laughing, as the man yelled soundlessly. It was horrifying to watch as the woman tried to back away, still writhing with pain, from the horrible man. The girl watched, amused, for a minute, then she turned to Clover, who since then had been an innocent bystander.
But now innocent bystander was victim. The girl turned on her, and Clover wanted to scream with fright. But then the girl began to blur and mangled hands began to soar through the air towards Clover. A lump rose into her throat as the hands reached for her, trying to grab her.
Clover ran, and tried to holler as she did, but it was no use. Then the hands reaching for her grew closer and the girl, still giggling, leapt through the air and landed beside Clover. Then, smiling cruelly, the girl pushed Clover roughly.
And now the floor was coming closer, and the girl was laughing and it was ringing in Clover’s ears. “Shut up!” Clover cried, but the girl just began to sing her banshee song. Then the floor engulfed Clover and she was no more.
--
Clover Burnes looked at her alarm clock. This was the first time since kindergarten that she had woken up before seven.
The nightmare had been too real. The hands she’d seen reaching for her, the horrible deformed man, the writhing woman. . . and the girl. . . Clover shuddered. But even now the details of the nightmare were fading.
Clover knew, though, that she’d remember the fear she’d felt from the nightmare for a long time.
It was nearly Halloween, she thought, glancing at the calendar that hung on the wall across from her bed.
“Clover? Is that you?” Her mother hollered up the stairs, as Clover got out of bed and stood on a creaking floorboard.
“Yes, it’s me!”
“Come downstairs and have your breakfast; it’s six-fifty and soon you’ll be late for school!”
Clover stretched and grabbed a pen from the messy floor. She circled the 30th of October that was on the calendar.
One day until Halloween!
“Clover! Hurry up! Don’t make me come up there!”
“Alright, mother! Don’t lose your head!”
And, gritting her teeth, Clover left the room.
1500 metres away, forty girls got ready for Halloween.