Halloween. Finally, the night I've waited all year for has arrived.
I make my preparations as I always do, pulling out the same old costume I wear every year, the blood splatters from previous years on the torn t-shirt and jeans getting me a little excited already.
Pulling back my hair into a ponytail, I debated where I'd hunt for my latest target. The park? A costumed Halloween party? Maybe I would just lurk in the shadows of some alley, waiting for a lone passerby. Too many choices.
I continued my Halloween evening routine, pulling out a variety of my bloodstained tools from a nook in the back of my closet. Clamps, chains, knives and hooks, all coated in dark dried blood. I felt the edges and tips of each, making sure they were still sharp after all this time.
Well, they were sharp enough to cut flesh at least, which is all I needed.
My mind wandered as I examined each piece thoroughly. Maybe I would kill someone at the party my friend was hosting. Music and drinking makes a good smokescreen for this kind of thing.
Choosing my favourite weapon, a curved blade with a heavy copper handle and a serrated tip, I looked in the mirror to check my costume before I stepped out the door.
The t-shirt fit me perfectly, the crimson blood starkly contrasting with the white cotton. It was torn near the collar, an unfortunate accident from when I had last underestimated a victim. With my bloodied knife in hand, I already looked the part of a serial killer.
Time to make some new bloodstains, I thought as I stepped out into the outside world, full of possibilities.
"Please," he begged, his red face streaked with tears, "please just let me go. I'll never do it again, I promise."
Unlikely.
I thought of what I should do next as I looked over my handiwork. The once lecherous teenager lay pathetically mewling on the floor, pleading with me to spare him. Weakly, he struggled to stand but his legs couldn't hold his weight. Hamstrings are always the first things I slice.
Whimpering loudly, he tried to drag himself across the floor towards the door, the deep gouges in his palms smearing blood across the floor with every movement. Thankfully, the pounding of the Halloween-themes music from the party downstairs drowned out any sounds he made.
"You're making a mess," I warned him, and he stopped with a small whine.670Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5RwSLZtXRA
I scoffed at his fear, feigning disgust at his misery. "You're pathetic," I mocked him, and he hung his head in shame.
"I know, I'm sorry," he admitted shamefully, and I knew he would say anything just to stay alive. "I'm so sorry. I'm terrible."670Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0DAjwF99VX
I strolled over to him and crouched in front of him, brandishing the dagger in front of me so he could see his own blood running down the edge. "You're no more pathetic than any man," I told him.
He looked up at me with his dark brown eyes, paralyzed with fear at my proximity.
"Men," I continued, tracing the lines of his face gently with my knife - not hard enough to cut, but enough so that the blood on the blade mingled with the tears on his cheek, "are always pathetic. They rely on their eyes so much."
As I said it, I slipped the knife into his left eye, smiling gleefully. He screamed - ah, how he screamed! - and blood came gushing out as I removed the knife, splattering my face and clothes.
He screamed and grasped at his face, trying to stop the blood.
We couldn't have that now, could we?
I stabbed him in the stomach, ripping upwards into his flesh. I knew my art, and my strike was low enough to be non-lethal, but it was going to hurt.
He screamed again, his voice melding with the noise from downstairs. He clutched at his newest wound, opening his face again for another attack.
For fun, I gave my best evil laugh as I stabbed him in the right eye. I was having a blast.
He wasn't.
Screaming, he curled up into a ball. He yelled for help at the top of his lungs.
Grabbing his hair, I yanked his head up, turning it towards me so I could see his face clearly.
"Wh-why?" He cried tears of blood. "Why are you doing this?"
"Why not?" I answered as I pushed his head back and slashed his throat open.
The blood splattered out fantastically, adding dozens of new stains to my white t-shirt. I held him aloft for a moment, basking as the warm liquid showered me like a summer rain. Even his choking gurgles couldn't spoil my mood.
The blood flow slowed as his heart did, staining his costume and adding to the pool on the floor around him. I dropped him unceremoniously to the floor like a piece of trash, a broken toy that couldn't bring me any more amusement.
My fun over, I went over the the mirror hanging behind the door and examined my costume's newest bloodstains. Slicing the young man's throat had earned me a beautiful speckled streak from shoulder to shoulder, far nicer than any spread I'd had so far. A fair bit of it stained my face too, dotting my lips like macabre lipstick. My hands were sticky and covered in red ichor, staining everything they touched.
With a half-smile, I pressed my hand against my cheek, leaving a vaguely hand-shaped blot on my skin from my lips to my temples.
I couldn't hide my grin. Pausing only to wipe my hands on my jeans, I skipped downstairs.
Heading to leave the party, I waded through the people, many of whom politely complimented my costume. I accepted it all with an ironic smile. I loved this part, the thrill it gives me to have people see me like this, openly covered in some poor bastard's blood. Halloween truly was a magical night.
Amber caught me before I could leave. "Heather! Where did you disappear to?"
I shrugged, still unable to stop smiling. "Oh, you know," I answered dismissively, "finding some fun."
She looked me up and down. "Is that the same costume as last year? I love it!"
"Thanks, but I've really got to go. Talk to you later?"
I retreated before she could respond and practically ran outside, away from the crowds of people and the loud music.
The air was cool and sweet, carrying the autumn chill. A few people lingered on the street, groups of children huddled together for safety against the monsters of the night. Most people I passed smiled and waved at me, not a single one of them cluing in that the blood covering me was real.
I loved it.
I walked lightly with a spring in my step, still carrying the bloodied knife at my side. I love Halloween, it makes me feel so alive!
The night grew darker as I turned onto my street. Everyone had already gone inside for the evening, locking their doors tight to keep out the Halloween terrors.
As I walked alone, I thought back to earlier and smiled. The victim had been perfect, his blood warm and dark and his begging and pleading on point. I committed every word he said and every scream of agony he gave to memory.
I was so lost in my own world, I didn't notice the police car pull up beside me.
"Evening, ma'am," the driver said, leaning out the window casually. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, thank you," I answered, smiling sweetly despite my pounding heart. "I'm just on my way home from a friend's party."670Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡogpCW6ewI7
"Have you seen any suspicious activity tonight?" he pressed.
"Like what?"
"The 'Grim Reaper' always comes out on Halloween night," his partner said, leaning over to join the conversation.
I shook my head, feigning innocence. "I haven't noticed anything."
""Alright, thank you ma'am," the driver said with a smile.
"Would you like a ride home?" the cop ion the passenger seat offered. "It's dangerous to be out alone on Halloween."
"I appreciate the offer," I declined, "but my house is just up ahead."
The driver tipped his hat. "Stay safe."670Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHfvEtTTiNI
"Your costume," the passenger mentioned, "is really good."
The driver looked me over as well, and I held out my arms so they could get a better view. "Yeah, the blood splatters are quite realistic."
I grinned widely. "Thank you. I worked hard on it."
With a wave, they pulled away and drove off, leaving me beaming.670Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ87qWqBKYTq
I love Halloween.
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