by Uncle Amon
Halloween Stories
Uncle Amon
Uncle Amon Books
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Copyright © 2014 Uncle Amon Books
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. No part of this book or this book as a whole may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or means without written permission from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
You will also enjoy…
Scaredy Cat
Spooky Scarecrow
Frightening Night
Trick-or-Treat
Spookville
Halloween Jokes
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Scaredy Cat
“Jeffrey,” said Mother. “Can you please feed the cat?”
“Yes Mother,” I said.
I went downstairs to feed Sparkles, our cat. She followed me into the kitchen. I opened up the cupboard door to get her food bag down and she jumped in the air nervously.
“Sparkles,” I said. “Why are you so scared?”
“Maybe she saw a mouse,” said Mother. “She doesn’t like mice.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I turned the can opener on and again Sparkles jumped in the air.
“What has gotten into you?” I asked, petting Sparkles behind the ear.
“That is strange,” said Mother, who was watching her.
“She is never this skittish,” I said.
“No,” said Mother. “It is like she has seen a ghost.”
Just as Mother said that, I saw a flash of white move across the kitchen window. I went over to the window. I saw my older brother, Barrie, walk across the lawn and then I saw my younger brother, Gerald, with a white sheet over his head.
“I think I have found Sparkles’ ghost,” I said to Mother, pointing out the window.
“Yes,” said Mother. “I think you did.”
That evening, just before Barrie, Gerald and I were going to go trick-or-treating, Mother called us downstairs. We went but we didn’t see Mother anywhere.
A few minutes later, we saw a black shadow along the stairway. I had a feeling this was Mother getting back at Barrie and Gerald so I wasn’t scared but my two brothers were terrified. They stopped dead in their tracks and couldn’t move.
Again the black shadow passed by. It stopped right in front of Barrie and Gerald.
“What do you want?” asked Barrie.
“Go away!” exclaimed Gerald, almost in tears.
“Are you going to play ghost tricks on the cat anymore?” asked a voice, that, to me, sounded just like Mother’s voice.
“No,” said Barrie. “We will leave Sparkles alone.”
“We promise,” said Gerald.
Mother took off her black cloak and the two boys just stared at her.
“Why did you scare us so?” asked Barrie.
“Now you know how poor Sparkles felt,” said Mother. “The scaredy cat.”
Barrie and Gerald never did play any more tricks on Sparkles.
Spooky Scarecrow
I sat in the living room of our farmhouse and was looking out the window.
“I think that scarecrow just moved,” I said to my Mother.
“It is pretty windy outside,” said Mother.
“No,” I said. “The wind didn’t make the scarecrow walk across the front yard.”
“Lucas,” said Mother, looking straight at me. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“I just saw a scarecrow walk across our front yard,” I said.
Mother got up and looked out the window. She, too, saw the scarecrow walking across the front yard.
“There has to be a good explanation to this,” said Mother. “There has to be.”
Mother and I were both frightened. We saw Dad come into the house. Dad was always a prankster so we asked him if he knew anything about scarecrows walking across the front yard.
“No,” said Dad. “I can’t say as I know anything about that.”
Dad, Mother and I looked out the window and we saw a scarecrow walk across the front yard again.
“Well,” said Dad. “Isn’t that just the strangest thing?”
For some reason though, Dad didn’t seem to be the least bit scared.
“Dad,” I said. “What is going on out there with the scarecrows? Mother and I are scared out of our wits. How come you aren’t?”
“Yes,” said Mother, knowing now that something was suspicious with Dad. “How come you aren’t scared about the scarecrows?”
“Go outside on the porch,” said Dad.
We followed Dad outside on the porch and we then noticed why Dad wasn’t afraid. Our neighbor, Mr. Jenkins, was driving a flatbed pickup truck and in the back of it, were several scarecrows standing up.
“I bought some scarecrows from Mr. Jenkins,” said Dad, laughing.
Mother and I couldn’t believe what Dad had just told us. We had been scared over a pickup truck full of scarecrows.
“It doesn’t take much to scare either of you two,” laughed Dad.
Mother and I decided that we were going to get Dad back for that. We weren’t going to let him away with it.
We went and talked to Mr. Jenkins the next day and we arranged for Mr. Jenkins to drive by our front yard again but this time he was going to put a stuffed bear on the back of the truck.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Dad, seeing the bear in the front window. “It’s a bear!”
Dad was scared out of his wits. He had seen a few bear in his life and he knew they were very dangerous.
“Come out onto the front porch,” said Mother.
The look on Dad’s face was priceless when he realized that we had tricked him with his own trick.
“Oh you guys!” exclaimed Dad.
A few minutes later, we were looking out the window and this time we saw a wolf walk by.
“Who asked Mr. Jenkins to put a wolf on the back of his truck?” asked Dad.
“We didn’t,” said Mother.
“We definitely didn’t,” I said.
“Looks like we got ourselves a real wolf in our front yard,” said Dad.
We stood at the window watching but then we saw Mr. Jenkins waving to us from his truck as he drove by with a stuffed wolf on the back of it.
“It looks like Mr. Jenkins got the last laugh,” laughed Dad.
Frightening Night
“Let’s go,” said David.
“Okay,” I said, putting my Halloween costume on.
“Are you sure you want to visit the haunted house?” asked David, as soon as we got out of earshot of my parents.
“Oh yes,” I said. “I am sure. Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” said David, suddenly not sounding so convincing.
“Why don’t I believe you?” I asked. “Are you afraid of the haunted house?”
“Kind of,” said David. “Justin, I have heard so many stories about kids not coming out of there on Halloween night.”
“I wouldn’t believe that,” I said. “After all, don’t you think that the police would be right on top of that place if it
were true?”
“Yes,” said David. “I guess that is true. Are you afraid of the haunted house?”
“I am a bit,” I had to admit. “But isn’t everyone.”
“True,” said David.
David and I paid our admission to the haunted house and I could see that David’s face had turned pale white when we entered, as I am sure did mine. When we first entered the house, it was lit up fairly well so there really was nothing to be afraid of at first. Then as we started to walk down a long hallway, it was getting darker and darker and soon the hallway was pitch black.
“Are you still there?” I asked.
David didn’t respond. I felt my way around the hallway and I couldn’t find him.
“David!” I screamed. “Where are you?”
There was no answer and I was getting freaked out. About a minute later I heard a blood curdling scream. I recognized the voice of being David and I was relieved to know that he was at least alive.
I followed the sound of David’s voice and finally I entered a room that was lit by one lone candle.
“Justin,” I heard a voice beside me. “What happened to you? I couldn’t find you.”
“Never mind what happened to me,” I said. “What happened to you? I heard you screaming.”
David pointed over to the corner of the room and in the dark was a witch. She looked so real and frightening. All of a sudden that witch started to cackle and I screamed like a baby. I felt foolish after that but that witch scared the daylights out of me.
David and I walked through the rest of the haunted house prepared for something to jump out at us at every corner. It was actually a lot of fun and we did end up laughing as we neared the end of it at.
However, we screamed like babies again right at the end. We walked through another long hallway and we saw three nooses. Each one was filled with a wax head that looked so real. We were terrified to move past them to the exit. We heard a scream coming out of the heads and when we heard that we were through that exit in a flash.
“Were you afraid at the end?” asked David, out of breath.
“Of course I was,” I said. “And don’t even try to tell me that you weren’t.”
Trick-or-Treat
I couldn’t wait for Halloween night. I loved going trick-or-treating. I loved getting candy. I wanted to get lots and lots of candy this Halloween.
“Billy,” said Mom. “Come on, we are going trick-or-treating now.”
“Okay Mom,” I said.
I took my costume downstairs and Mom and Dad helped me into it. My costume was a ghost costume that Mom made for me.
“Nice costume,” people would say as we passed by them.
“Thank you,” said Mom. “I made it for him.”
“Trick-or-treat,” I said as I went up to the house of an elderly man.
“Oh my!” exclaimed the man, pretending he was scared. “It is a ghost! Here, take my candy! I don’t need you to do any tricks for me.”
The man gave me a big handful of candy and off I went to the next house.
“Trick-or-treat,” I said.
The door open and an old woman dressed in a witch costume answered the door.
“Oh my!” exclaimed the witch. “Just what I need for my brew, the hair of a ghost.”
“Ghosts don’t have hair,” I said.
“True,” said the witch. “But you aren’t a real ghost now are you?”
“No,” I said. “This is just my Halloween costume, just like your witches costume is yours.”
“How do you know that this is just a costume,” said the old woman. “How do you know I am not really a witch?”
“I guess I don’t,” I said.
“I would be careful,” said the witch. “You never know what kind of spell I could put on you.”
After visiting the house of the witch, I wondered if that old woman was just kidding. I sure hope she was but I was a bit afraid of her.
“Do you really think she was a real witch?” I asked.
“No,” said Mother. “You didn’t recognize her?”
“No,” I said. “Should I have?”
“You see her in your music class every day,” said Mother.
“Mrs. Thompson!” I exclaimed.
“Yes,” said Mother.
All that next day at school, I couldn’t help but look at Mrs. Thompson and smile.
“Billy,” said Mrs. Thompson. “Why do you keep smiling at me?”
“Because,” I said. “I know you are not a witch.”
“Oh my!” laughed Mrs. Thompson. “You were in the ghost costume, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “I was.”
“I sure had you fooled for a bit,” said Mrs. Thompson. “Didn’t I?”
“Yes,” I said. “You sure did.”
But how would I ever really know if she was a witch or not?
Spookville
There is a section of our village that we never visit. It is called Spookville. It is eerie, dark and desolate. Nobody knows why this part of the village was ever called Spookville but everyone sure has its stories as to why.
“Spookville was once home to some people who escaped from jail,” I heard my Grandfather say.
“Spookville was once home to the criminally insane,” I heard my Aunt say.
“I heard Spookville is a place that is haunted with ghosts and they scared everyone out of it,” said my Mother.
I didn’t know who to believe and honestly, I didn’t really care but when I heard that Spookville was going to be open to the public to visit this Halloween, I was first in line to buy tickets.
“Why do you want to go to Spookville?” asked my friend, Kenny.
“Just to see what all the fuss is all about,” I said.
“Harold,” said Kenny. “I would go too but my Mother won’t let me.”
“I think you are just too scared,” I said.
“I’m not scared,” said Kenny.
“Then come with me,” I said. “I have an extra ticket.”
“You do,” said Kenny.
“Yes,” I said. “You had to buy two tickets at a time.”
Kenny and I talked about Spookville for days before Halloween. We had talked about every possibility as to why Spookville was called Spookville. We had both talked about it so much that we had actually scared ourselves silly.
“Are you sure you want to go to Spookville tonight?” asked Kenny.
“Yes,” I said. “I do want to go.”
Kenny and I walked to Spookville and when we got there the hair on the back of our necks had raised up. We were terrified.
The houses of Spookville were all lit up and we were able to walk through them. The guide of Spookville told us Spookville was nothing more than a ghost town. There was an old mine but that had closed down so the people of Spookville had left.
“That is it,” I said disappointed. “That is the real history of Spookville.”
“Yes,” said the guide.
That’s when the lights began to flicker and suddenly went out. Everyone began screaming. Then the lights suddenly came back on.
Perhaps the guide was wrong. Maybe no one really knows the true tale of Spookville.