"Peter And The Psycho Trick-Or-Treaters" Pg 7

That the kids had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and silently, was creepy enough. If Peter had heard them sneaking up, it wouldn’t have been nearly so frightening. After all, the kids were hardly imposing; none of them was any taller than Devil Boy, and a couple were several inches shorter.

But their masks…their masks were unsettling. There was one with a canvas sack over his head, with ragged holes for eyes and a jagged frown stitched beneath. Another kid had what looked like a frosted fishbowl on his shoulders, nestled atop flowing green robes. There was a girl with a creepy, white, baby doll mask made out of porcelain. Another kid had what looked like a mop in place of his head, and the last one seemed to be wearing several layers of black pantyhose over his face.

The really weird thing was that, just like Devil Boy, none of their eyes were visible. They were either sunken-in black pits, like Sack Head and Baby Doll’s, or entirely absent, like Mop Face’s. Fishbowl’s helmet was so hazy that it was impossible to see even a hint of anything inside. And Pantyhose definitely had a skull, but the only features visible were slight hollows where the eyes should have been, and a bump for a nose.

And they just stood there, arms hanging slackly by their sides, totally motionless. If Devil Boy had said they were his zombie sidekicks, Peter would have believed him.

Despite his earlier bravado, even Dill had the heebie-jeebies. “Uh – who are they?” he asked, his voice cracking a little.

“They’re my crew. They help me mess people up.”

“They really shouldn’t sneak up like that,” Peter said.

“Why not?” Devil Boy asked, though the flatness of his voice made it more of a statement than a question.

“Because it’s…creepy.”

“So?”

Devil Boy’s tone had gone from confident and playful to hushed and threatening.

Peter heard the change in the kid’s voice, and knew they were having some sort of wacked-out contest. So he stared at the dark holes in the kid’s mask and said firmly, “It’s not very friendly.”

The kid’s voice was quiet, almost soft as he answered.

“Who said you were my friend, Peter?”

Peter’s stomach knotted up, and he instinctively turned around to look behind him.

The creepy kids hadn’t moved, though.

Yet.

“I think we better be going,” Dill chirped. “Nice meeting you.” Under his breath he added, “Psycho boy.”

Something was bugging Peter – a tiny detail buzzing in the back of his brain… then he realized what it was.

“How did you know my name?” he asked.

Devil Boy just stood there looking at him.

“How did you know my name?” Peter repeated.

“Dude, I must’ve said it. Come on, let’s go,” Dill urged.

“No – no, you didn’t, I’m sure you didn’t.” Peter turned back to the Devil Boy. “How did you know my name?”

Devil Boy just stood there, silent.

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Copyright © 2009 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.