“Just one more to go,” Samuel said to no one in particular.
Setting down his carving knife next to his pumpkin, he began washing the guts off his hands. They were always so sticky, but this was his favorite part of the holidays. Almost every other day of the year, he’d be getting strange looks from any neighbors and any passersby. Tonight however, in a quiet neighborhood like Dusky Hollow, you were given looks if you were not engaged in the traditions.
Samuel remembered his first Halloween, 30 years ago when he was a child and his mother had taken him out to trick-or-treat in “the rich” town where there were better treats to be had. Each house offered something new and in different wrappings, some were chunky, some were nutty, others were milky, but each was delicious.
Walking around in the dark of the night, he’d received plenty of compliments on his costume. His mom’s costumes were always admired for looking hyper-realistic. When she was the wolf-man, the hair felt so real! The teeth were hard, they didn’t look or feel like that rubber or plastic fake stuff, but the realism came at a price, the costumes often smelled of sweat. This year was much easier to pull off. She was dressed up as a mad surgeon, with bloodied OR scrubs that made her look more like a butcher than a doctor.
This year, Samuel was dressed up as one of his favorite characters from The Wizard of Oz – the brainless scarecrow. While moving on to the next house, he skipped along imagining himself to be traveling the yellow brick road.
Before he knew it, his prancing, hopping, and trick-or-treating killed most of the hours of the night. The roads emptied of the hustle and bustle, and there was scarcely anyone to be seen.
“Okay honey, this is the last house. It’s getting late and everyone’s going to be going to sleep soon.” Samantha spoke softly in a singsong voice.
She took his hand and escorted him to the front door of an immaculate house. It was surrounded by hedges which offered a lot of privacy from the neighbors. Samantha extended a gloved finger to press on the doorbell, patiently waiting for a response.
“Trick-or-,” Samuel began, but he was interrupted by someone rushing past him to bowl the elderly man down who answered the door.
Samuel looked around the front yard to make doubly sure that no one saw them. After confirming the lawn was devoid of life, he stepped across the threshold of the front door, then closed and locked it while he heard the scuffling behind him. Ah, memories.
Tonight, he’d done a lot of the prep work ahead of time and had everything laid to carve. He’d already disposed of the teeth from his custom Jack-O-Lantern. He only had to finish the torso that would be hanging from the tree.
“All right, just one more to go…” he said while he started Y-incision.
tbc
Part Three was written by a streamer friend AlteredEntertainment. They do live readings on fridays and saturdays on twitch and occasionally game. Be sure to check them out. Link in author's comments.
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