Creative Writing, Fiction, Horror, short story

The Goblin Saint of All Hallow’s Eve (part 17)

October 17th

(Last Year)

I camped out in Cas’ room again last night, changing it up a bit. I hoped it would help trip up our intruder. I buried myself in the opposite corner from the previous night. Instead of using blankets, Cas piled clothes on top of me. I looked like a regular dirty laundry heap, with just my face visible.

“Will it work?” Cas asked.

“I don’t know. But if it doesn’t, I have another plan. We’ll catch it. I promise.” I said.

“We better. I don’t think I can take much more.”

A couple times throughout the night, my eyes got super heavy. I know I never fell asleep, even though it would have been easy in the warm clothes cocoon. I needed to get to the bottom of this whole mess. For both our sakes.

I never heard anything except for the ticking clock. The waiting and the constant tick-tock were enough to test anyone’s sanity. So I kept my mind busy by thinking up new plans for if I needed them.

As the sun started coming up and the room grew lighter, I knew our unwelcome visitor had struck again. I could make out the silhouette of a pumpkin sitting on the end of the bed. After stretching a bit of the stiffness from my body, I made my way over in the dim light to inspect the accursed thing. It was just an ordinary, baseball sized gourd. No writing, but a few more of those creepy growths.

(This Year)

I drifted in and out of sleep last night. Those stupid pumpkins and jack-o’-lanterns filling my head. They were dancing and laughing. Always laughing.

At one point, something brushed my arm. It felt like cloth of some sort, but too coarse to be my sheets. When I moved my legs, I felt something move between my feet. I knew it would be a plain, baseball size gourd, but still needed to check.

I hate these things. My sleep is terrible. My brain is foggy all the time. I think I’m on the edge of crazy.


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