by Sam West
“Oh, right,” she said, apparently having no idea what she was going on about.
“So I was thinking – maybe dear, sweet little Jen should have her very own, Halloween babysitting experience.”
“You’re going to break into next door and call her?”
“I’m not going to call her. Rob is. And then he’s going to go round and pay them a little visit.”
“Does Rob know this?”
“Not yet. But he’s about to.”
Her predatory gaze fell upon Rob. He was dancing with Nora, an attractive girl who was dressed as a sexy witch. Like Lauren, Nora came from a privileged, upper-middle class background, and was a solid fixture in their little clique.
Lauren felt no jealousy as she watched them dancing together. Absently, she wondered if they had fucked, or were going to. She couldn’t say that she cared either way. Because even if they were, Rob would drop Nora like a sack of shit if she so much as clicked her fingers.
Which, she decided, was exactly what she was going to do. Curling the finger of her black-gloved hand in a come-hither gesture, she beckoned him over towards her. Like a dog brought to heel, he was at her side in heartbeat, leaving Nora stranded. For all of two seconds she looked put out, before tugging on the arm of a guy dressed as Edward Scissorhands, then proceeding to use him as a pole.
“Baby,” Rob said, holding out his arms expansively towards her. “You ready to dance?”
Ignoring his outstretched arms, she leaned in against his shoulder, pushing her shiny, PVC clad breast against him.
“I don’t want to dance, but I’m in the mood to play a little Halloween plank.”
She shifted her weight onto one hip, accentuating her curves in her skin-tight, shiny, black Catwoman suit. Lauren knew she looked good, hell, she was in a different league in the looks department compared to that pathetic bitch next-door. It just beggared belief that he would choose Jen over her.
Yeah, he sure was gonna pay for that.
“A prank, huh? What, exactly, did you have in mind?” he shouted at her over the music.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm and heading out into the wide hallway where it was quieter.
She threw a final glance at Becks, who had slipped onto the dancefloor when Rob had come over, and was currently having a dance-off with Nora for the attentions of Edward Scissorhands. Becks was winning.
Out in the hallway, she leaned against the wall and allowed Rob to rest his hand on the wall above her head and crowd her space. He smiled down at her, and on most other guys, she supposed it would’ve been sleazy. Rob was too cute to be sleazy, though; shame she couldn’t fancy him.
“So Neil’s gone next-door with the babysitter, and I propose we play a little trick on him.”
“You do, huh?”
He smiled lazily down at her, edging ever closer. His nonchalant, you-do-huh’s were beginning to get on her nerves. She tried not to let her irritation show when she replied; “I sure do. What do you say? Fancy a bit of Halloween fun?”
“I reckon it would be more fun if you forgot about Neil for one second and concentrated on me.”
“Who says I’ve got Neil on the brain? I just thought we should, you know, do something spooky.”
“I can think of things I’d much rather be doing.”
“For God’s sake Rob,” she snapped, unable to contain her exasperation and shifting sideways so that he was no longer quite so much in her face. Not wanting to piss him off, she softened her tone somewhat. “It’s the high-and-mighty fresher girl I want to play a trick on, not Neil so much. She’s just so up herself, she needs to be taken down a peg or two.”
“You mean you’re pissed at her for boning Neil when you’re not.”
She sighed heavily. “Do you want to do this or not?”
“Fine. What do you propose we do, then? What’s in it for me?”
Lauren shifted gear immediately. “A bloody good night.”
Rob chuckled, encroaching on her space once more. This time, she didn’t flinch away from him. “Is that a fact?”
“Uh huh. You’d better believe it. All you have to do is make a funny little phone-call in a funny little voice and say how you’re coming to get her. And when you’ve made your funny little phone-call, you can go round there in a funny little costume and scare the shit out of the bitch.”
Half-pouting, half-smiling, her eyes heavy-lidded, she picked at an imaginary piece of fluff on his stripy suit.
Rob’s smile dropped. “Her and Neil will be calling the police quicker than you can say happy Halloween.”
“Oh, come on, Rob, it’s just for a laugh. Where’s your sense of humour gone?”
“On a different plane to yours, obviously.”
“Sweetie, I’ll really make it worth your while.”
His smile came back when she grabbed his hand and placed it on her small, firm breast. “You drive a hard bargain, Lauren Richards.”
“Yeah. Real hard.”
She reached for his crotch, and he sucked in a sharp intake of breath. She could feel the stiff heat of his cock through the cheap polyester of the suit. His smile was no longer friendly – it was positively wolfish. He lowered his head to kiss her, but she twisted out of reach.
“Up in my room, there’s a long, black cloak on the bed and a Scream mask. Make the call, make a few threats to her and Neil and the kid, then go and knock on their door.”
Despite the dangled carrot of sex, Lauren could sense that she was losing him.
“But why? What am I supposed to do round there? What if they call the police, or Neil goes for me?”
“If they don’t open the door immediately and you suspect they’re calling the police, just come straight back here. The police aren’t going to take them seriously. There’s a party here, for God’s sake, it could be anyone running around in costume just having a laugh. And you’ll withhold your number on your mobile, so they won’t know who it is.”
“What do I do if they open the door?”
“Point the gun at them, get them to strip naked, then I’ll appear and take a picture. Hello the best fucking social media prank ever.”
Rob’s eyes widened. “You what? A gun? Are you fucking serious?”
“Deadly. It’s not a real gun, it’s just a prank. Come on, it’ll be funny. And you get to see Jen naked, so it’s win, win.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
She threw him a sexy little smile. “That’s why you want me.”
“This is insane.”
But she could see him giving it some serious consideration. “It’s just a little joke. Jen’s titties and Neil’s cock will be plastered all over Snapchat, Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. Come on, it’ll be the prank of the fucking year.”
“What if they can see it’s not a real gun?”
“It looks very realistic. They probably won’t take the chance.”
“Probably?”
“Definitely.”
He closed the gap between them, crowding her with his big body against the wall. “Remind me again what’s in it for me?”
“A night you’ll never forget.”
“I want more than a night.”
His response surprised her. She knew he fancied her – most guys did – but apparently he was really into her. “Do you want to go steady with me?”
A look flickered in his eyes, one she couldn’t quite place, but just as quick it was gone again.
And then it clicked what it was.
Jesus, I think he’s in love with me or something.
“Sure we can,” she lied smoothly. “I really like you, Rob.”
Then she tugged his head down onto hers, kissing him like she meant it. Which she didn’t, but Rob seemed fooled. She broke of the kiss, singularly unmoved. Rob, however was gazing down at her, his cheeks flushed and his pupils swamping his brown eyes.
She slipped her dainty, gloved hand into his. “Let’s go upstairs, this is going to be so much fun.”
> CHAPTER THREE
Danny was rooted to the spot in disbelief. The hallway swayed around him and for a moment, his vision blurred. Dimly, he was aware of the children
(they’re not children they’re goblins from hell)
swarming over his mum, stabbing her repeatedly in the back with gleaming knives. Their black-gloved hands whooshed through the air, again and again.
All at once, the stabbing stopped. The four, hideous faces looked up at Danny and they pulled themselves upright to the full extent of their four-foot-something glory.
“We want candy…”
“Get us our sweeties…”
“Sweets, give them to us…”
“Or give us a trick…”
Their voices overlapped each other as they stepped forward over his mother’s body, into his home.
Danny staggered backwards, numbed by terror.
Sweets! You have sweets in your pocket, a little voice screamed in his head.
He reached a trembling hand into his pocket, his fingertips grazing a little packet of sweets that were wet-through with piss. For an alarming second, he thought that his fingers were simply not going to cooperate.
The goblin children took a step closer, their arms extended outwards, each one of them still clutching a knife.
Finally, Danny lobbed the packet of sweets at them. It landed at their feet, and the little packet of chewy bears caused them to stop dead. Their hands lowered to their sides and their large heads tilted downwards.
He dug deep into both pockets, locating more small packets of sweets and threw them at the creatures from hell. For Danny was no longer under any illusion as to what he was looking at – these things were demons, of that he had no doubt.
“You’ve got your sweets, now go. Get out of my house!” he screamed.
The creatures clutched their sweets and stared at him, their oversized heads cocked to the side. Without a word they turned away, stepped over his mum, and walked down the garden path. Danny held his breath, staring after their departing figures until they disappeared through the gate and turned right out of sight.
When he was sure they were gone, and still in that same state of numb shock, he went over to his mum on jelly legs.
“Mum,” he sobbed, crouching down next to her and gently shaking her shoulder. She didn’t stir. “Mum,” he repeated, louder this time.
Sobbing, he lunged into the living-room where the man in the green suit was still on the TV. He was doubled over with laughter.
“Happy Halloween, Danny.”
The fact that the man on the telly had said his name barely even made him flinch. He had just watched his mum be murdered by creatures from the depths of Hell, so if the creep on the TV was directly addressing him then it didn’t really figure.
Ignoring him, he plucked the phone out of its cradle and punched in nine, nine, nine. It rang once before a familiar voice answered; a voice that made his blood turn to ice. Not only was the voice on the other end of the line, but it was also coming from the television:
“Tonight, all calls are being diverted,” the smug voice said in stereo. “You have reached seven, seven, three, four, which, as you might have guessed, upside down and backwards, spells hell. Please hold the line if you require us to come and tear you limb from limb.”
He cackled in his ear, and on the telly too. Something sharp grazed the corner of his mouth, making him yelp. In the second before he flung the phone across the room and it shattered against the wall, he glimpsed a set of sharp, yellow, drawl-covered teeth gnashing in the phone’s mouthpiece.
He blinked, sure he had imagined it, staring in horror at the shattered phone next to the skirting-board. The phone looked accusingly back at him.
See? It seemed to be saying. I’m just a phone and you broke me.
Wrenching his gaze away from the phone, he looked back at the TV… And wished that he hadn’t. The man on the TV was laughing. Except he didn’t much look like a man anymore. Danny refused to look directly at the TV, but he was aware of him out of the corner of his eye. His head was beginning to look a little like the heads of the things that had killed his mum.
I will not look, I will not look, he repeated to himself over and over as he edged out into the hallway.
But he couldn’t seem to stop himself from stealing a glance. The man’s head was stretching and distorting into those ghastly, demonic proportions, and all the while he was laughing like a maniac.
With a cry, Danny stumbled back out into the hallway. Even though he knew he was going to see his mother lying there dead, sprawled across the threshold, the shock was still a physical thing. It rocked him on his feet, leaving him dizzy. With a huge effort, he focussed on what should happen next.
I need to get help. The neighbours will help me.
Mr and Mrs Pearson lived next-door. They were nice – a little older than Mum. They had a baby, and a grown-up-son who had emigrated to Australia.
But if I go out there, the monsters will get me.
Then he thought about escaping through the backdoor of the kitchen into the back-garden, but quickly dismissed the idea. The large, square garden was surrounded by high fencing impossible to climb over. Each of the five houses on this stretch of promenade overlooking the sea were detached. To the left of them was a mile-long park that separated the two towns of Ramsgate and Broadstairs, and at the other end of the row of five houses was an expanse of nothing but clifftop promenade before one came to the cinema. Behind the garden was the busy road that wound down the cliff face into the centre of Ramsgate. The only way onto that road was through the alleyway next to the cinema.
You have to go outside and get help from the neighbours. Unless, of course, you want to go into the park…
Just the thought of entering the park at night made him squirm. There were so many horror stories about what went on in that park in the dead of night.
Refusing to look down at the floor, he edged closer to the front-door. From here, he couldn’t see what had become of the monsters. He was pretty sure that he had seen them turn right instead of left.
Behind him, the monster-man on the telly was still laughing.
He’s getting louder.
Whimpering, he stepped over his mother, turned off the porch light, and pushed himself into the bushes. Now that he was outside, he could hear loud music with a heavy beat coming from next door but one. Mum was always moaning about that house, she said it ‘lowered the tone of the street’. It was a student house, and right now, they seemed to be in the throes of a Halloween party.
He found that comforting. Help was out there, he just had to reach it.
From inside the house, the sound of the man laughing grew louder still.
The telly-man is going to get me. He’s going to crawl right out of the TV, like he tried to do with the phone, but the phone wasn’t big enough. He’s going to crawl right on out of the TV and eat me up…
His heart hammering in terror, he edged down the garden, in search of help.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jennifer Abbot stared at the message on her phone for probably the hundredth time that night:
I’m coming round! Neil X.
She had tried to argue – Mr and Mrs Pearson hadn’t exactly said that no one could join her, but then, neither had they said, ‘oh, yes, please invite your boyfriend round so you can fuck on our sofa while our one-year-old child sleeps upstairs.’
I’m sure they won’t mind, she told herself. It wasn’t like she had any intention of fucking him, no matter where they happened to be tonight. They’d only been going out a week and she was still a virgin. Not that Neil knew that.
Would he still want me if he knew? At nineteen, she felt kind of old to be a virgin. Most guys got weird about it, like, they either saw it as a challenge to ‘break her in’, or they ran a mile, thinking that she was after an engagement ring. The truth was, she was saving herself for someone special. She didn’t necessarily want the guy to become her life partner, but s
he still wanted it to mean something. Was that really too much to ask? Did that really make her such a sad, walking, talking cliché?
The muffled sound of music washed over her, barely discernible, coming from next-door. A Halloween party.
At least some people know how to have a good time. I bet none of them are sad virgins.
The landline trilled loudly, making her jump. She stared at the cordless phone in its cradle next to the TV, her heart thumping hard in her chest. The green writing on the phone’s little screen blinked withheld. She glanced at the time in the bottom right hand corner of her laptop screen; it was gone ten.
Who the hell would be calling this time of the night?
Maybe I shouldn’t answer it.
Or maybe it was the Pearsons. Maybe something bad had happened.
You have to answer it.
Even if it wasn’t the Pearsons, the least she could do was take down a message for them. It was only a ringing phone, for God’s sake, there was no reason for her to be so damn jumpy.
Picking up the phone, she pressed it to her ear, doing her best to ignore the irrational surge of apprehension.
“Hello?”
There was no reply.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Jen,” a deep, male voice said, just as she was about to hang up.
Her heart tripped in her chest as she asked, “who is this?”
The voice on the other end of the line chuckled softly, but there was nothing friendly in the sound.
“Is the child asleep?”
Her blood ran to ice in her veins. “Mr Pearson?” she asked in a croaky voice.
But even as she asked it, she knew it wasn’t him. Not unless he was putting on a funny voice, but why would he do a thing like that? No, this wasn’t Mr Pearson.
She clutched the phone to her ear, and it was slippery and hot in her hand.
“Who is this?” she repeated to the silence down the other end of the line.
Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to hang the fuck up, but somehow, she couldn’t. She had to know who it was. Because if she knew who it was playing this dumb Halloween prank on her, then she wouldn’t be so scared anymore.