by Jesse R Traynham - Author

Likes: 5
Words: 200

We pulled up to Nan's house around three.

"We just as well get to it, Sis."

"Yeah. I know."

Nan's familiar aroma embraced us as we entered, like one last hug from beyond.

"Where do we even start?"

With moist eyes, we got to work. Cleaning out Nan's house was going to be difficult.

"Check this out. Look at these photos."

She spread out six yellowed photos from an old shoebox. The first four photos appeared the same at a glance. Nanna posed at the fall festival, in front of the Evergreen Ferris Wheel, smiling from ear to ear. She held up that year's festival sign. The first year was 1924. Then 1944. Another was 1964. Then 1974.

The same young ride operator smiled and reached for her ticket in each photo. The thing is, Nan looked exactly the same age in every photo. So did the operator.

In the fifth photo, Nan and the operator stood together, holding hands. The sign said 1984.

In the last photo, Nan and Grandpa stood together in their forties, still holding hands. That one was from 1996.

"Clint. How old was Nan?"

I dug around in the box. "Her birth certificate. Says 1894."

by Neviena Dēls

Likes: 4
Words: 200

Dave walked Amy past the funnel cake stand and the ring toss, holding her hand so she wouldn't wander off into the busy crowd. She was seven and fast.

"Can we do the corn maze first?" she asked.

"After the scarecrows," he said.

Every year the town lined the main path with scarecrows stuffed by local businesses. The hardware store always won. This year their scarecrow wore a flannel shirt Dave recognized. It was his, gone from the line one morning back in September.

He stood in front of it a long time.

"What's wrong?" Amy said.

"Nothing. Let's go."

The scarecrow turned its head as they passed. Dave saw it in the corner of his eye and did not stop walking. He did not tell Amy. He just pulled her a little faster toward the maze, where the tall corn swallowed the sound of the crowd.

"Dad," Amy said, "the maze is supposed to be closed."

The gate was open anyway.

Somebody had left a lantern on the ground just inside. Dave picked it up. The handle was warm, like somebody had been holding it a second ago. He looked back at the path. The scarecrow was already gone.

by Eolas Pellor

Likes: 4
Words: 201

“Festival!” He heard the calls echoing down Main Street. There wasn’t much to stop echoes, these days. The shops, diners and small businesses that had once operated along the road had all closed, one by one, when the Walmart opened in Colby. In the past there would have been people going back and forth, and trucks and cars parked all along the street. Now it wouldn’t have looked odd if a tumbleweed had blown down the length of the old downtown.

“Festival!” He heard another call, insistent, alluring. What was the cause of all the hubbub? It was that Baker boy, he guessed. There was something wrong about it, but it was the right time of year, he supposed – the Full Moon after the Equinox.

Some kids – boys about twelve ran past him, laughing and making a ruckus.He sighed and shook his head; it wasn’t right letting kids watch some things, but times were changing. He followed them, slower and more sedately, toward the square in front of the courthouse. It was all decked out with corn-sheafs, pumpkins, and bunting. Perfect for a festival.

In the middle stood the gallows, and the Baker boy was climbing up the steps.

by Mary Zuelke Author

Likes: 3
Words: 198

Moonlight shimmered across the lake. A thick black forest surrounding it, except for a narrow wooden path cutting through to the festival grounds.

Gillian stood on the edge, clenching her fists, eyes closed and a soft murmur surrounding her. She threw her arm back and tossed the sacred stone.

Plunk

It lingered on the surface before the gentle wave took it under.

A tight sigh escaped as she turned, walking toward the tiny speck of firelight, hope kindling. Trees crowded her like a narrow mountain pass.

Branches snapped and leaves rustled.

“Not yet…” A chill circled her. She knew this distance was too far.

Then the path trembled, buckling beneath a great weight. An acrid stench wafted behind.

Run! She forced herself into a sprint—heavier footfalls behind.

What if it catches me?

“You will make it.” A voice whispered into her ear—Haden. He waited on the edge.

A burning talon seared her, cutting into flesh.

“No…” she yelled as she lunged into the dark figure standing within the circle of light. They fell, breaths mingling.

Guttural croaks broke the blackness.

Silence hovered over them, eyes watched.

He grabbed her hand, turning toward the fire.

Conversations and laughter resumed.

by Kathy Goddard writer

Likes: 2
Words: 202

‘Why are you bothering to carve that thing?’

‘We’re in England’s pumpkin capital, Liv. It’d be rude not to. Anyway, I’ll stick it on the porch - it’ll add to the atmosphere of the party. ‘What’s it meant to be?’

Gareth picked up the pumpkin and swivelled it round. Arched eyebrows rose above small eyes but it was the wide smile and long fangs that gave the game away.

‘A vampire? Hardly original.’

‘I’m no expert.’’

Picking up the knife Gareth winced as the blade slipped and nicked his finger. Red drops dripped onto the fangs.

‘Looks a bit more authentic now,’ Livy laughed.

That evening guests crunched over fallen leaves laced with the first frost of the season, anticipating a fun filled evening of comparing costumes, swapping ghost stories and enjoying pumpkin spiced beverages. Several guests took selfies with the bloody fanged vampire.

One visitor hung back until he was alone on the porch. He crouched down , lifted the pumpkin, sniffing and licking the dried blood stains. ‘Blood calls to blood,’ he whispered. ‘your invitation is graciously accepted.’

He slipped into the house unnoticed. Mingling with the guests he honed in on his host and prepared to slake his thirst.

by D. R. Long - Storyteller

Likes: 1
Words: 200

"Barry... I really want to leave!"

"Not yet, Melly. One more ride."

"You said that after the last one. This better be it."

"It is, I promise!"

Melly pointed at three rides that had the shortest lines.

Barry shook off all three. "No, I want a scary one... there!" Through the fog, words appeared.

HELLSHOT. A giant wooden castle rollercoaster. It was rickety, and had no line.

"No, Barry... That one’s dangerous."

"Come on, it'll be fine. And no line!"

Melly rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

A ghoulishly thin attendant strapped them into a vintage car in desperate need of grease with torn padding. The attendant laughed as he threw the switch. When Melly looked at him, his head was only a skeleton with hair.

“Barry! We need to get off now!”

“Too late, Mel! Here we go!”

The car lurched forward and gained speed as it pushed them up the first hill. It bounced them side to side as the metal screamed below them. It rested for a moment at the top before shooting them down and through a loop. Barry held his arms up as Melly pointed forward. “Look ou-”

The thin wire sliced through them before she finished.