The Hyperion Chronicles

The Hyperion Chronicles

“Illiterate? Write for help”

#322 My Readers Scare Me

Welcome to the second installment in our week-long tribute to All Hallow’s Eve. Today we feature stories sent in by you, the Readers. Back in September I asked a few Readers if they’d like to submit a Halloween story. A few more heard about it, and soon 20 people were working on it. Some dropped out for personal reasons, or found they just couldn’t come up with a good story. Several we had to turn away for not meeting our requirements.

What survived is what we have today. I will forward all comments, but they don’t write for a living, so go easy, and think about how hard it would be for you to do this. Final notes: These are Halloween stories, so they take some license with our normal decorum here. Be aware and don’t be a stuffy prig. Finally, these stories really REALLY are better read aloud. Enjoy. –Hyperion

REAL MONSTERS

By Abigail Cora

The Monster oozed out of its lair, stretching luxuriously. The Monster had waited a whole year for this night—Halloween—and now the Monster got to patrol the neighborhood looking for lives to ruin.

The Monster lumbered out to the road, a Wisteria Lane, looking for costumed children. But, it was early yet, and the street was empty and quiet, save the frantic barking of a yellow Lab named Henry. The Monster approached Henry and barked back, and to this day if you visit 48 Wisteria Lane, you’ll find a house with a yellow Lab hiding under it, absolutely refusing to come out.

The Monster crept up to a house, peering in the window. Inside the Monster saw two little children, a boy and a girl, pleading with their parents.

Billy: But why can’t we go trick-or-treating? All the other kids are!

Jill: Yeah, Mom! Please?

Mom: I’m afraid not. It is unsafe to go by yourselves, and your father and I have our weekly bridge game tonight.

Dad: Besides, candy is so bad for your teeth. I got you an educational video on why candy is bad and why you should be filling your body with whole foods. You can watch that instead of trick-or-treating.

The Monster retreated from the yard, a bit disturbed. True, the Monster was just going to devour the children once they got outside, but still…not getting to go trick-or-treating!

The next house the Monster went to had broken beer bottles in the front yard, so the Monster had to go around back. There the Monster saw a 10 year old girl with three younger siblings. A very pregnant mother was putting on her coat, while a no-good boyfriend waited.

Drunk Mother: No, you can’t go trick-or-treating. You have to watch the others. I need some peace from you awful children, and the work-release program only gives Rat-Tail a 48 hour furlough. Now behave, or you’ll be sorry when I get home!

[4 pathetic kids looking miserable]

The Monster went away from that house even more disturbed. The Monster didn’t like the way Rat-Tail had been looking at the girl one bit.

The next house had a Green Party campaign sign in the front yard. The Monster shuddered and didn’t even bother to go up to that window.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth houses were more of the same. In one house they were giving away raisins for Halloween candy. In another the kids were dressed in grocery bags; the words “SOLDYER” or “PRINSESS” written on the front in blue magic marker. One house was actually decorated and throwing a lively Halloween party, but in the back the youngest kids were being occupied by a DVD of Full House: Season 5. the Monster wanted to throw up.

Finally, the Monster got to the seventh house. It was white with blue trim, nicely lit. the lawn was tended and the flowers pruned. Everything seemed normal, and the Monster had high hopes of finding some nice children to gobble up. Silently—well, as silently as a 1200 lb. Monster could—the Monster inched up to the window.

There the Monster saw acts so unspeakable, it would make your ears bleed to hear and sear your eyes to read. The family inside was…they were…well, they were playing Trick-or-Treat, but there wasn’t any candy.

The Monster crawled away, dejected, tail between its legs. This was the Monster’s one night to shine, to wreak havoc and create fear all over the town. But the Monster knew when it had been outclassed. The Monster had much to learn about ruining lives before it could truly call itself a Monster at all.

THE MONSTER OF CADDO CREEK

By Dawn Short

As they drove back from Caddo Lake, Dan's car began to sputter and cough. About ten miles from home, the old Dodge seized up and died; rolling to a stop in front of an old grave yard. Emily thought then; This isn't a good sign.

Her eyes searched the deserted county road for signs of life, but found nothing but miles of fields and forests. And that graveyard.

"Don't tell me you ran out of gas!"

Dan pointed to the gauge: "Still half-full. Must be the carburetor, or maybe…” He grinned evilly.

Dan looked around. "The Jenkins' place is just over the hill. If I cut through the graveyard, I can be there in ten minutes and use their phone. You'll be okay here, right?"

Emily looked around and shivered involuntarily. "I'm not staying here. I'm coming with you." She fished through her purse for her tiny flashlight.

"Don't worry Em, the monsters don't come out until midnight , it's only 11:30.

Emily punched Dan on the arm. "Ha ha; very funny." She was about to say something sarcastic about the boogie man, but then she remembered Tony Jenkins, and the Caddo Creek Monster.

For years people in those parts had scared each other with tales of the Caddo Creek Monster. Emily had never paid much attention to it, laughing when her mother used the story to get Emily to behave.

But last year at a birthday party out by the lake Tony Jenkins had disappeared. They never found him, and the stories came up anew.

A howl came from deep in the woods. The sound struck Emily as lonesome and threatening at the same time. Dan took her hand, and they began to walk together in the darkness.

The full moon illuminated the headstones in the graveyard ,making them appear ghostly. The light caught one that read TONY JENKINS.

Dan saw it too and said, “He disappeared last year, right around here. His parents had to identify him by his pinky ring because the police never found anything but his left hand."

The hair on the back of Emily's neck rose at these words, but just then a pack of feral dogs appeared on the horizon, barking and snarling menacingly. Dan pulled on Emily’s arm and shouted, “Lets run for it!”

They ran for what seemed like ages until coming to a tall wooden gate. They scrambled up on top; panting and gasping for breath. The sounds came nearer and nearer, then just stopped.

"It's too quiet, something is wrong." whispered Dan. Emily almost screamed at the sudden sound. “The dogs seem to have left, though, and this is the Jenkins’ place. Let’s go use the phone.”

The house was shrouded in darkness; no lights could be seen. Dan knocked on the door; it creaked open slightly with an eerie sound.

"Anyone home?" Dan called out uncertainly pushing the door open wider. Trash and debris were strewn throughout and dirt touched every surface. The house looked empty and abandoned.

“What happened to the Jenkins?” Emily asked. “I don’t remember them moving.”

She was interrupted by a fierce growl coming from inside the house. Slamming the door shut Dan exclaimed, "One of the dogs must have gotten inside!"

But just then the door began to shake and rattle as something threw itself against the door repeatedly. They ran.

As they climbed over the gate they heard the door give way with a loud CRASH! Something screamed and collided with the gate. Emily heard scratching sounds as the thing clawed its way to the top. Dan stopped and grabbed her arm. " Wait ... it cant possible get over the gate."

Just then an odd shaped head with red glowing eyes appeared above the gate. It opened its mouth and a high-pitched scream came out. Then it dropped out of sight.

The door of the gate began to groan softly, and there was a loud CLICK CLICK as the creature slowly, and with great effort, turned the handle of the gate. They stood, transfixed with terror. Emily recovered first.

“RUN!!”

They tore through the graveyard, this time taking no notice of headstones. Though the trees Emily saw the waters of Caddo Creek reflecting in the moonlight, but did not stop to contemplate its beauty.

They heard the dogs again, but couldn’t worry about them now. They found the road and raced towards Dan’s car. Emily heard the sounds of pursuit but she could see the car now and doubled her speed.

She reached the car and jumped in, slamming and locking the doors without thinking. She realized Dan wasn’t there but before she could do anything about it truck headlights appeared in front of her on the county road. Emily turned on her own headlights and the vehicle flashed its brights in recognition, temporarily blinding Emily.

Just then something ran onto the road and the truck swerved violently. There was a horrid crunch as the truck’s front tires ran over whatever it was. As the truck screeched to a halt Emily saw that it was Dan’s Dad, Mr. Benton.

He leapt from the truck and ran over to see Emily. “Are you okay? When you two didn’t return I got worried and came to look for you. Where’s Dan?”

Emily tearfully told Mr. Benton everything while he attached a tow chain to Dan's car. He listened in silence until she got to the part about getting to the car and Dan not being there.

Mr. Benton looked panic-stricken. “You mean, Dan was right behind you? Oh no! What was that I hit?”

The both raced over to the spot on the road where Mr. Benton’s truck had run over something. There was fresh blood, drying on the ground, but there was nobody there.

FLIGHT

By Saralyn Marshall

She raced through the woods;

Running for her life.

The tree cover was heavy;

She could not see daylight.

Thick undergrowth tripped her and scraped at her as

She threw her body forward.

Someone was after her;

Someone who wanted to kill her.

If only she could get away.

With every step she sought freedom, but

He was gaining on her.

Her heartbeat raced in her throat in

Her panicked flight.

She tried to hide in a tall bush, but

She heard Him getting closer and closer.

She turned her head, left and right but

She could not see Him.

And that scared her even more.

She ran through the woods while holding onto

Hope that she would escape.

She knew if she could just get to the river

She could follow it to safety.

She heard the sound of the water, but

Never seemed to get closer.

For hours she ran, chest heaving, and then the

Panic turned to fear.

What if she missed the river?

If she passed it, every

Step took her further away.

If she turned around and the river was still ahead,

She would miss it as well.

She kept running while

Plagued with doubt and indecision.

Which way to go? All alone in the dark woods,

She cried out in frustration.

While running, while being chased.

The river echoed in her ears;

She no longer knew where it was.

He kept moving, gaining on her.

She knew she could not keep going,

Soon her body would

Give out to exhaustion and

He would catch her. Tears of terror and

Frustration leaked down her cheeks as

She slowly realized she could not get away.

Suddenly the river roared in her ears.

She raced toward the noise with renewed energy.

Through a clearing she saw that

She reached the top of a waterfall.

She approached the edge and looked down at a

fall that disappeared into the mist.

The water raged and she stood paralyzed,

Unable to decide what to do.

She could not keep going.

Her body was aching and

He would surely catch her.

Behind her she heard footsteps.

He was coming now.

She looked back over the ledge to the

Bank that seemed miles below.

She couldn’t jump;

She would die for sure.

But He was getting louder now, closer.

She looked back at the direction of Him;

Her mind screaming at

Her to move, to do something, but

Her feet stayed rooted to the spot.

She looked down at the waterfall; sure a jump would kill her

Just like He would.

But she was so terrified of Him.

This thought made her decision.

She took a deep breath and jumped off the ledge.

She sank into blackness,

Not sure what had happened.

She fought to open her eyes and saw

She had drifted down the river half a mile.

She swam to the embankment, unsure

How long had passed since her jump.

Her body felt oddly light as

She shook off the river water.

Then she realized she was not alone.

Death stared at her, a calm expression.

She never knew Death could have an expression.

"Why did you run?

You knew you could not escape me."

He pointed an icy finger toward the river.

She turned to where he was pointing, realizing he was right. She gave a sad smile as She looked at her body

floating

down

the

river.

A TEACHER’S LOVE

By Ethan Treviño

Ms. Kent loved her students and would do anything for them.

The rain cleared for the first time all day, so she let them out for recess. The children stumbled out, holding hands and cheering. The sky was cloudy, giving the wet grass a blue pallor. As her children ran across the playground, she saw them stumbling through sea foam, their sneakers lost in the grassy surf. One of her girls, Leora, ran around the lee of the building to the edge of the playground. Ms. Kent blew her whistle and yelled.

Leora! Get back here!

Then came the blast.

Ms. Kent watched Leora dissolve in an instant of light. Heat poured off of the school. Forgetting herself, Ms. Kent staggered to what was left of the building. Brick had already melted and cooled into a congealed red frosting. The stink of the lunchroom billowed out of the building. Asbestos seared the eyes.

Ms. Kent?

She ran back to her students, akimbo behind the wall of the school. She pulled out her whistle and blew.

Line up, she cried, line up!

They pulled themselves up. Some cried or had questions, but she shushed them. Routine took over, and they lined up like they had been taught. And they followed her.

She counted them. All were there, minus Leora.

They walked down the middle of the road, though it stank of tar and burned their shoes. The houses blazed and the lawns smoked. A car tore around them, racing nowhere.

Ms. Kent half led and half carried the children until they reached a building that wasn't burning. Inside people huddled, scared. She picked up each of her children and showed them to those gathered.

Are you this child's mommy or daddy?

One woman screamed and sobbed at the sight of Dean, a little towheaded boy. Grudgingly, Ms. Kent let the mother take the child. Dean held his mother and they fell to the ground crying.

Ms. Kent sighed and led the children up the stairs of the building. She found an old office and told them that this was home for a little while. She dragged in some office chairs and ripped out the cushions and told her students to use them as pillows.

Everyone in the building shared what little food there was. The others stayed on the bottom floor, hoping for rescue. A few left and promised they would send help when they found it. But the foul air struck them down after only a few steps. No one left after that.

Days passed. The vending machines slowly emptied.

One night, voices down the stairs woke Ms. Kent. She slipped out of the room and crept down the stairs. The survivors were gathered at a window, pointing and arguing. Figures walked to the building, attracted by the survivors. But the survivors were blinded by their hope. They refused to see the figures were not human. Ms. Kent ran upstairs and blocked the door. The children stared at her, frightened.

Shh. Be quiet. Cover your ears, children.

Dean banged on the door, his mother screaming at him to hide. Ms. Kent swallowed a lump, and curled up, leaning against the door. Little fingers reached under and Ms. Kent held them. Dean’s body pulled back and forth, but he never left the door. Ms. Kent listened as the intruders slurped and chewed Dean’s body. Eventually, all she had left were his fingers.

Ms. Kent treasured those fingers and kept them as talismans of her failure to protect Dean and Leora.

The food lasted longer, but it still ran out. The children groaned. They grabbed their stomachs in pain.

The downstairs was empty. The food was gone. The people were eaten. Ms. Kent stared at her children and held up Dean’s fingers. With a knife, she cut them into several equal pieces. When her students had eaten the flesh, she taught them how to suck the bones for nourishment.

The bones lasted for a day.

Ms. Kent took a knife and cut off her own hand and cooked it. Then her feet. As time went on, she gave the children her calves. Next her shoulder.

Ms Kent’s body wheezed. The children sat around her, waiting and famished. Their eyes were hollow. They bent towards her, their mouths dripping with saliva.

Ms. Kent could see the hunger in their eyes. She tried to escape, but they grabbed her remaining arm and held her down. She screamed as their little teeth ripped into her belly.

Ms. Kent loved her students and would do anything for them.

Hyperion (et al)
October 27, 2004

Credits
Thanks to the four authors who gave so much of their time
Thanks to all the others who gave it a shot
Editing thanks from Koz, Laureate, Jerrica, and Bear
Thanks to Taisie
Thanks to all monsters everywhere

Coming Friday
My own Halloween stories. Make sure you don’t read them after dark!