"Peter & The Psycho Trick-Or-Treaters" Pg 17

“Guys, come on, we’ve got to make sure the back door’s locked!” Mom said frantically, and took off running for the kitchen.

Peter ran after her. As he passed the windows in the den, he stopped in his tracks so fast that Dill nearly ran into him.

Words written in flaky white paste smeared the windows, large letters scrawled in childish handwriting:

KILLER

DEAD MAN

FOOL

Peter walked up to the window and felt the glass over the letters. It was still smooth and untouched, which meant the white paste they had written with was on the outside.

Thank God.

“What does that mean?” Peter wondered aloud about the handwriting.

“I don’t know, but it looks like they don’t like you very much,” Dill said as he raced on by.

In the kitchen, Mom was jiggling the doorknob to the back door when they all heard the screen door outside it squeeeeeeeaaaak open. Mom cried out and backed away as a hail of eggs smashed against the glass part of the kitchen door.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Mom screamed. “WHY WON’T YOU LEAVE US ALONE?”

In his terrifying encounters with monsters, Peter had always been scared – but now he felt a different kind of fear as he watched his mother fight back tears. He didn’t like to admit it, because adults often seemed mean and clueless, but he’d always believed that they understood the world and were totally in control. Grandfather certainly seemed to be. Mom might have lost her job back in California, but she’d brought them here to Duskerville. She’d had a plan. She’d been in control.

For the first time in his life, he was seeing his mother act just as scared as he felt. Totally helpless, and all because of a bunch of strange kids outside. Seeing her like this made him realize that maybe being a grownup didn’t mean you were really in control of the things around you, just that you faked it pretty well. And that was really scary, in a way that changed how he thought the world worked.

Then the new fear got replaced by a more familiar one, the old type that chilled him to the bone, as all the lights in the house suddenly shut off and plunged them into darkness. Only a pale glow from the moon outside shone through the windows.

Mom cried out again in surprise, but managed to get a hold of herself.

“Guys, are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered.

“NO, this really SUCKS,” Dill said in a trembling voice.

Mom was about to say something, but stopped. Outside the house, childish voices called in the darkness.

“Meliiiiiisa, come out and play…”

“We won’t hurt you…much…”

“Meliiiiisa…don’t make us angry…”

Peter’s stomach turned flip-flops in his belly. “Mom, how do they know your name?”

“We’ve got to get flashlights,” Mom said, ignoring his question.

<< previous page | next page >>

Copyright © 2009 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.