Flash Friday – Photo Prompt – 350 words- “Tricks Not Treats” – humorous horror PG13

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Flash Friday.  Hosted by Rebekah Postupak , lover of dragons and writing.  The task for today: 300 words (+/-10) based on the photo.  The task always a bit more daunting because it is posted at 12:01AM on Friday and expires at Midnight!  All entries are added to the comments section of her blog (click on pic for all stories, but read mine first!).  I post my story below:  It was not suitable for the contest as I thought it was a 350 word limit instead of 300.  I left it as was because – I had too much fun with it.

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Trick Not Treat

By Scott L Vannatter – 357 Words

@SVBookman

“It looks like an old school,” Tom Westingham said, picking his nose.

“Do you really think it’s haunted?” Marlene was always worried, whether it be about her appearance or the end of the world.  In fact, unless she told you, you could not tell which from her reaction.

“Nah, people are nuts.  It’s just…” Joel’s gum dropped from his mouth in mid-sentence.  The other two glanced at him then turned to the old building.  Near the top of one of the turrets, a soft-white glow appeared, slowly moving down the spiral staircase.  You could make out a head behind the glow, but the figure, otherwise, was missing.

“Joel Morgenstern!”  Marlene, a very indignant twelve, rebuked the boy for the natural release of bodily fluids at the sight of something he should be running from.  He ignored both her and the growing stain, choosing instead to bounce a bit back and forth as if deciding the proper direction to flee.

Tom, always trying to be a proud and unshakeable visage of strength, remained outwardly calm.  His eyes, lost in the approaching darkness, might have given a more true report of his emotional construction.  He did not move.  Let it be noted he also did not look away.

Marlene, after yelling at Joel, seemed to recover and realize she should, indeed, be scared.  Her trembling started in her knees, but quickly spread to the reaches of her body so that she appeared very cold.

The figure in the old building stopped and, as if sensing the fear, turned slowly until the face was looking directly at the children.   As if on cue, the trio spun 180 degrees and left some prints in the soft ground as they headed full-steam to their respective homes.  This moment would not be mentioned by them again while they were children.

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“Well, that should do,” stated Mirabelle, removing the black cover from her neck and body.  She shook the sparkle dust from her hair and face, as well as from the candelabra in her hand.

Her husband, Dirk, smiled.  He enjoyed a good snack, but agreed with her that missing children brought trouble.

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Namaste,

Scott

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