by Piano Kaewchaiyo (8th grade)
Carl thought it was awfully eerie for the night of Halloween. Something just felt wrong, something strange. Seeming like black crows flapping their wings amongst the sky, the midnight autumn air spun around Willowshire Street, calling the names of treat-or-treaters within the neighborhood. Jack-o-lanterns illuminated the neighborhood like sparks of fireworks as large oak trees stretched their branches across the twinkling, anticipating atmosphere. The sound of treat-or-treaters who wore neon, glittery costumes with hair in all sorts of colors echoed through the streets. Smells of caramel candy, Reeses Cups, and pumpkin spice lattes lingered in the air. No street lights were lit, painting the world in pitch black. Carl peeked outside his bedroom window, squinting for a closer look around the neighborhood. He wasn’t much of a halloween person, so he stayed indoors playing video games. It wasn’t his style to dress up and randomly knock on doors for candy. Despite the haunting darkness, amongst the neighborhood lay a haunted house on 666 Willowshire Street. Its 600 sq meter property occupied dark, rich emerald victorian curtains and crooked jet black picket fences. The house was intimidating and terrifying to look at. It was no surprise that nobody had visited this house for over 50 years. The teacher who had previously lived there had a heart attack, and it was known as Willowshire’s Graveyard. Even the teenagers at Carl’s high-school decided to not bother the massive, grim territory. However, Carl thought it was quite odd that Principal Agatha's car loomed over the crinkles of frost on the lawn of the haunted house. Before he went to investigate, the doorbell loudly rang. Could it be a treat-or-treater? He opened the door, groaning.
“Hey, what’s up?” Maya’s hazel eyes lit up the doorway, complimenting her cool Black Widow costume. Maya was Carl’s childhood friend who was a popular student at his high-school. Per usual, she felt unsatisfied that Carl hasn’t celebrated Halloween each year. “Can you not be a wimp and actually have fun?”
Carl blinked, responding, “Nah, I’d rather play games. It’s so lame to dress up. Besides, why is the principal’s car right next to that freaky house?”
Maya looked at him blankly. She sighed, turning her head. She then noticed Principal’s Agatha’s silver Toyota. Odd.
She gulped, murmuring, “Um… why is the principal’s car there? There’s literally nobody there. None. All of the trick-or-treaters have ventured to the other side of the neighborhood.”
“That’s my exact point.” He quivers. Something urged him to go explore. Now this was the Halloween he desired. Suddenly, he got an idea.
He cleared his throat, facing Maya. She stood there, swaying her arms from side to side. “I dare you to go in that house and find out why old lady Agatha’s in there. It will be cool, and you get to find out what’s actually going on in that house.”
“Are you kidding me?!” Maya screeched, pausing. She did enjoy challenges, but was this too much of a risk? “I don’t know, dude.”
After a few seconds of silence, Maya’s expression curled into a devious grin. “You know what? I’ll go. But, only if you come with me.”
At first, Carl shook his head. But, impulsively, he believed that there was probably nothing in that dumpster of a home, and he would be able to tell all of his friends about Principal Agatha’s creepy connection to that haunted house.
“Fine by me,” He nodded. Maya marched forward, while Carl ran behind.
They sprinted to the nearest tree close to the haunted house, and hid as they caught their breaths. The two stealthily leaped over the thorn-like crooked picket fences in the backyard. The backyard smelled similar to foggy air mixed with a strange substance. There was a stench that seemed like it was from rotten flesh. Maya walked forward to the front door, scrunching her nose. The door creaked open, and they were now wandering in the haunted house. After the door opened, the lock clicked. Terrifying gothic chandeliers, broken wooden tiles, a spiral staircase, and oozing liquid decorated the walls of the house. In the living room, rustic carpets and paintings glared at them with an unsettling feeling. Carl and Maya looked at each other and shivered. It looked like something from a horror movie. Carl spotted a broken piece of glass, picking it up carefully. Oddly enough, it had a strand of gray hair on it. As they walked around the house, there was a loud crack beneath their feet. They both looked down, holding their breath, and saw bones sticking out of the floorboards. A sound of a glass shatter thundered the hallways. Then two. Then five. Every window broke one by one, until it got to the gigantic window in the living room. All of a sudden, Carl felt blood streaking down his forehead. Blood trickled down his head, making his mind rush with panic. Carl screamed a horrible bloodcurdling noise and widened his eyes, alarmingly seeing a shard of glass in his skin that wrote “run.” Maya’s heartbeat accelerated, and her mind was racing with wild emotions. Was somebody playing tricks on them? She held onto Carl’s arm.
“We need to go, now,” Carl’s breathing got heavier and heavier as the shatters and thuds echoed through the house. They were trapped. Grabbing the nearest chair, he slammed it against the front door in hopes that it would break.
A morbid, familiar voice lurked out in the darkness, revealing itself to be Principal Agatha. They screamed. Horror. Blood. An ax. There was now an ax in Principal Agatha’s hands, ready to kill someone. Principal Agatha’s silhouette warped into a smoky, hissing demon and charged at the two teenagers. Blood stained claws extended from her fingers and clawed at Maya’s arm. Her eyes grew large, and her pupils covered the whites of her eyes. A sinister look in her eyes gazed upon them. She was no principal; She was a demon. Carl stood there frozen, overwhelmed with shock.
“RUN!” Maya hollered, her arm bleeding intensely. She took Carl’s sweaty palm by force, and raced out of the house by violently thrashing the chair against the door. The demon threw the ax towards the door, resulting in a loud bang that could be heard throughout the entire neighborhood. Both of them had sweat droplets on their faces as they sprinted out. They cried, collapsing in the middle of the street. By the time the neighborhood heard the commotion, the neighbors all came running. Questions were asked. Tears were falling from their eyes. Fear striked all of their hearts. Sirens wailed, reporting to the scene. Blurs of vivid color ran past the shaking figures. Carl felt squeezy, wobbling to his feet. He tapped on an officer’s shoulder to speak, but his tongue was numb. Maya explained everything to the officers -- even though her heart was lifeless.
Yet, what the sheriff said was the scariest part of the entire night. The sheriff stated, “There is no haunted house on 666 Willowshire Street.” Maya’s claw wound was gone, and Carl's forehead wound disappeared. And when Maya and Carl looked towards the direction of the haunted house, it was gone.