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October31, 2005 - Oct 31,2005 - Special Treat - From Me! >> |
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STORYTIME TAPESTRY The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world ? Halloween Contest ? ? Subscriber ? Today??s Announcements: ? We welcome Jennifer Ragan as writer #258 to our Storytime Tapestry Fold.? How wonderful it is when brand new writers pitch in right away and join the Halloween Contest.? I am blessed to have a wonderful group of writers.? I wouldn??t have it any other way. ? We at Storytime Tapestry wish a happy 19th weddSubscribering anniversary for our members, Dave and Ruth Elkin. ? Best Wishes go out to: Louis Berry, husband of our writer Nell Berry, Kristen Ramirez, and Anne Glover. ? ? Submissions for the contest are now Closed. ? The membership will vote according to their favourite writer.? Each day the entries of what has been published to date will be posted at the beginning of the newsletter and the list will grow daily as the submissions increase.? Voting will be held after the contest ends.? The contest ends when there are no more submissions.? ? All members can access the archives of Storytime Tapestry http://archives.zinester.com/98907 to reread an entry before voting if need be.? If you have any problems please contact me at: winterose@videotron.ca ? Contest winner will get a copy of my new book, Angels Watching Over Me upon release. ? ? Now on to the good stuff.......... ? Submissions for the contest to date: If you do not see your name here, it means you piece has not been published yet. Each day new names are adding as the pieces are published. ? Name? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Title? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Date Sharon Bryant? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Halloween Cupcakes? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 25 Sharon Bryant? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Pay Attention To Your Dreams? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 25 Sharon Bryant? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Coke Glass? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 25 Sharon Bryant? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Fire Wall? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 25 Sharif Khan? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Witch Doctor? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 26 Barbara Deming? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? A Stranger At the Foot of My Bed ? Oct 27 Barbara Deming? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Houses Of The Living Dead ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 27 Barbara Deming? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Cemetery March ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 27 Debra Shiveley? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Haunted House? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 27 Pam Patterson? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Trapped? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 28 Mary-Ellen Grisham? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Heavenly side of Ghost-ly? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 28 Lynne Stevenson? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Aurora Borealis ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 28 Lynne Stevenson? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Halloween
In Surinder Jandu? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Journey of Soul? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 29 Surinder Jandu? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Power of Prayer? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 29 Martha Jette? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Michele Grew Up With Spirit ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 29 Martha Jette? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Haunted Pub? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 29 Norma Liles? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Who Celebrates Halloween? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 29 Barbara Fred Skill? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? My Best Halloween Costume? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 30 Richard Sims? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Real Story Of Halloween? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 30 Dianna Doles Petry? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? It??s Halloween? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 30 Norma Liles? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Who is the Hoot? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 30 Norma Liles? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Haunting? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 30 Kathy Baker? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Halloween Havoc? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 31 B.J. Cassady? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? What Lurks Below? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 31 Debra Shiveley? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Cigar Box? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 31 Richard Sims? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? A Super Scary Halloween Story? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 31 Jennifer Ragan? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? The Bewitching Mist? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oct 31 ? Halloween Contest Submissions ? HALLOWEEN HAVOC By, Kathleene S. Baker ? ? An old, yellow school bus rumbled through the neighborhood on Friday afternoon.? But it wasn??t just any Friday ?? it was Oct. 31st, and the children aboard were down right rowdy.? As if by magic, many of the homeowners had decorated their yards that very day for a fun-filled Halloween evening.? Other homes had been decorated for most of the month.? The air was crisp with autumn??s arrival, and the busload of youngsters brimmed with excitement. ? The aged, bus driver thought his eardrums would burst as they passed Frank Townsend??s house!? In between the screaming and shouts of enthusiasm, he could make out the same remarks from nearly each child.? ???That??s where I??m going first tonight!? Whoa, did you see that?? Hey, they even have a coffin.???? As each costume-glad child exited the bus, the distraught driver decided they were all on a ???sugar high??? from the parties held at school that day.? When the last little goblin danced down the bus steps, he welcomed the sound of silence. ? Still being kids at heart, Frank and Wanda Townsend had created a scene right out of a scary Halloween storybook.? Bushes and trees were draped with spider webs and spiders!? And they were big, wooly spiders, with red eyes that would glow when darkness descended.? Uniquely carved pumpkins adorned the porch, several old, crooked tombstones were scattered about.? Beneath a gnarly, live oak tree sat a huge caldron, that would be boiling and bubbling come dusk.? From speakers hidden in the shrubbery came eerie music, screams, and the cackling of witches.? However, the true masterpiece was a rickety, wooden coffin sitting just at the edge of the sidewalk. ? Frank had enlisted his neighbor, Dave, to don a glowing, skeleton suit and spend the evening in the coffin.? An electronic eye had been installed on the side of it, so as each child approached the lid would open completely.? Most likely the squeaking hinges would generate goose bumps on the bravest of kids, and quite possibly their parents too.? The squeaking hinges were Dave??s cue to sit upright, and then reach out as if to grab the nearest little ghost or goblin. ? The moment darkness fell an all-out stampede of kids came tearing up the sidewalk.? Tiny tots came with parents, entire families approached, as well as vehicles arriving loaded with tricksters.? Spooks clambered out car doors at the speed of lightening. ? Wanda, dressed as a wicked witch, had perfected a cackle that was hair-raising to young and old alike.? Frank was wrapped in layers of torn, ragged sheets and made a magnificent mummy, and he even remembered to drag one leg at all times.? They had staged a Halloween display for many years, but they??d never had a turn out of this size.? Yep, this year they had outdone themselves with the preparations!? . ? Meanwhile, down in the coffin, Dave was so thirsty he could spit cotton.? The first break in traffic didn??t take place for a good two hours.? By then he was begging, ???Frank, you??ve got to toss a few of bottles of water in here or I??ll die of dehydration before this evening is over!??? ? As the evening wore on, Frank, Wanda, and Dave all realized they were having repeat visitors.? But, how do you turn out the lights when it??s still party time?? Halloween had fallen on a Friday, which meant no bedtime curfew ?? kids could sleep until on Saturday.? Nope, they would not close up shop until they ran out of candy, or the sun began to rise! ? The next lull brought more complaints from the coffin.? ???Dave, if I don??t get out of here I??m going to wet my pants.??? ? Frank could only snicker.? ???Just lay off the water!? I can still see kids up and down the street and they aren??t gonna be disappointed when they get here.? I??ve got a urinal in the house from my last hospital visit.? Do you want me to run in and get it???? ? ???Not a bad idea, but this blasted suit doesn??t even have an opening in the front.? Maybe you could bring me a pair of scissors too!? Did you get this costume at some kind of thrift shop, or what????? The words were no sooner out of his mouth, and another mob of kids came dashing up the sidewalk. ? It seemed the evening would never end; at least that??s how it seemed to Dave trapped in the coffin.? His back ached from lying on the hard wooden floor, his bladder was in spasms, and he had cramps in his stomach.? He was miserable and had become a hateful skeleton.? No longer did he feel remorse as a little princess or ballerina walked away terrified and in tears.? In fact, he was beginning to delight in it.? Misery loves company!? And if he heard Wanda??s annoying cackle one more time, he thought he might just climb out and strangle her! ? Finally came the words he thought he??d never hear.? ???Dave, I think we can call it a night.? There isn??t another kid in sight.? Well, no wonder -- do you realize it??s ????? Frank was yawning as best he could with his face wrapped so snuggly. ? ???Frank, just shut up and give me a hand out of this contraption you built!???? ? Frank moseyed over and glanced down at the cantankerous skeleton.? ???Oh, get on up out of there -- you don??t need help!??? ? ???Yeah, I need help, and in the worst way!? If I strain to sit upright one more time, I know my bladder is gonna give way, besides which, my back is killing me as well as my stomach.??? ? Frank helped him out and Dave struck out for home without saying a word.? He was stooped over with one hand on his back and his legs nearly crossed. ? ? ???Hey pal, what??s with all the complaints?? I mean, how hard can it be to lay in that box and rest all evening anyway!???? Frank shouted at him. ? That stopped Dave dead in his tracks.? ???Rest!? Did you say REST?? And what??s wrong with me?? I just spent six hours in a torture chamber ?? that??s what??s wrong!? You try six long hours participating in a sit-up marathon from hell ?? with a full bladder.? Not to mention Wanda cackling and screaming a few feet from my head.? My ears are ringing and my head is splitting.??? ? ???Hey, Dave!? I??ll call and see how you??re feeling tomorrow.???? Oh, if Dave could have seen the twinkle in Frank??s eyes, things might have gotten ugly! ? Dave hollered back over his shoulder,? ???Don??t even think about!? Don??t call.? Don??t drop by.? Don??t do anything that involves me.? It??s easy being a mummy, ya know.??? ? Frank couldn??t keep his mouth shut -- he just had to get in the last word.? ???Yeah??¦ well??¦ that??s not what my mummy always told me??¦??? ? With that -- Wanda, the wicked witch, tuned up and began cackling again??¦ ? ? ?©2005 Kathleene S. Baker Please visit my website: http://www.lnstrlady.bravehost.com/ ? Kathy Baker Lnstrlady@aol.com ? I was born and raised in the small town of ? ? ~**~**~ ? What Lurks Below B.J. Cassady ? Welcome to the land of the Macabre.? The land of terror, where horror reigns supreme and justice is as feeble as straw in a raging fire. Are you one that hastens their pace when walking in the dark?? One that is leery to speak of evil when night is master?? One that stays home Halloween night, especially when the wind is howling, leaves rustling, mysterious shadows that bespeak mysterious 'things'.? Do you believe in ghosts, goblins, demons, powers of the devil, things that go bump in the night, vampires, werewolves, zombies, and creatures so despicable that satan banished them from his domain. ? ? ? ? ? If you believe that you can survive this, retaining at least some of your sanity, then proceed..........if you dare.... ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? "What Lurks Below" ? ? ? ? My name is John Arrington and I do not expect you to believe what I am about to tell you, why sitting in my study surrounded by familiar things and smoking my favorite pipe it is hard for mt believe what has happened.? A year ago, 1926, in late October, the trees were bare of their leaves and a cold wind blew down the near deserted street past children, dressed as witches and hobgoblins.? I had long held a penchant for the occult and it was this bizarre interest that led me one fateful afternoon to the estate sale of one ? ? ? ? ? I remember Mr. VanBuren well for he taught history when I was in high school and later lectured at the local university.? He was a large man with a salt and pepper beard an on wet days he was forced by an injury to his knee to use an archaic cane of oriental origin.? I always secretly held the idea that it contained a sword as is the style of such ancient devices.? In later years, Mr VanBuren became confined to a wheel chair. I went to the estate sale of this lofty personage in late October with the long dead leaves of the surrounding trees swirling, performing a dance macabre, at my feet.? The setting of the day not unlike that of some enchanted tale that bespoke of misdeeds.? Mr VanBuren's passing had saddened many in my small town, myself included, but it had also brought into the open a vast library of ancient books(several boxes of which I purchased fairly reasonable, the bidding not being too vigorous) along with several sealed trunks which I contrived later that night with much pomp and circumstance. ? ? ? ? ? A storm blew up that evening and the trees outside my window danced; hideously scraping at my windows as if seeking admittance.? I was unable to sleep and slipping into my night robe I went downstairs.? The study drew me towards it where the trunks and books were stored.? Taking some logs from my wood box, I stirred up a roaring fire while the rain pounded incessantly at my tall french windows.? This was the scene under which I opened the first of two trunks.? I must add admit to a certain chill in my bones as I undertook this seemingly harmless task, a feeling of foreboding. The first trunk merely contained a variety of clothing from around the world. The late Mr. VanBuren had been an extensive traveler.? Finding nothing of particular interest in the first chest, I moved to the second which was locked with an ancient padlock of Victorian vintage.? I made several feeble attempts to pick the aged lock, all of which failed miserably,? thus I was forced to break the lock.? Finally, with my curiosity piqued, I opened the creaking lid and I staggered back, choking on the cloud of dust that arose from the interior.? ? ? ? ? ? ? After the dust settled, I cautiously peered over the rim and inside were several yellowed newspapers clippings about some mysterious murders in town and in the countryside.? Some of the newspapers were quite old and some were fairly recent, all were contained in a single ominous folio. As I thumbed through the pages, some written in a language I could not understand, but recognized as Indo-Asian in origin, a binder of yellowed notepaper crumbled to the floor.? Written in the spidery script of the deceased antiquarian, and it appeared to be a journal of some sort.? ? Our of respect for Mr VanBuren I will not repeat what it said in full, but I will say that it told of strange and occult proceedings that seemed to be related to the newspaper clippings.? On the last page, which had been partially removed, it stated," ...today I finally gathered the resolve to do it and with the help of my manservant, Jenkins, we bricked up the entrance to the passage."? This intrigued me. ? ? ? ? ? Of what passage did he speak?? I decided to find out and for assistance in my endeavor, I enlisted the services of one Jacob Marlott.? I briefly filled in my friend on the details the next day over tea, and knowing his interests were similar to mine, I knew I could count on his curiosity.? We planned to set out that very night. ? ? ? ? ? Jacob arrived punctually at .? I answered the door, my servants having already retired for the evening, and I gathered such accouterments as might be of help and we set off.? We decided to walk, since the VanBuren estate was so close to my own home, and the elements of quiet and surreptitiousness being very desirable.? We ventured off on foot up the hill towards the aged estate.? An owl hooted, started both of us, the wind swirled the fallen leaves around us and shadows seemed longer on that short walk than normal.? The sounds of night, I thought, were angry that night. We approached the ill-kept house.? During the past few years the house had fallen into a further state of disrepair and decrepitude.? As I was standing there looking at the house in outline against the huge, harvest moon, my friend directed my attention to a number of people entering the house from the rear. ? ? ? ? ? About ten people were making their way into the basement door, we viewed a bizarre candle light procession.? Our curiosity compelled us to follow them.? Upon arriving at the door, we saw candle light pulsing through the chinks in the cellar door.? We pressed close enough to see five of the cloaked figures removing stones from a section of the basement wall.? The stones were well anchored in a mortar that appeared to be lighter than the surrounding wall and more recent in construction than the wall connected to it.? While three of their companions held candles aloft to light their work, two others held a bound and gagged woman.? She looked to be in her early twenties.? The hole in the passage grew larger until the figures were able to disappear into it. ? ? ? ? ? When they were safely inside the passage, we carefully followed them inside the cellar.? At first, the passage seemed to be man-made, but as we descended, we felt the cold air rush past us of a cave or tunnel.? As the leader paused to open an iron gate with a huge silver key, we pressed flat against the walls of the passage.? He struggled with the heavy gate until it begrudgingly swung open, and they disappeared once again.? The tunnel began to grow more difficult, with many a turn and a twist.? Ahead, we heard chanting in a language I couldn't understand, but my friend convinced me in a hushed tones that it was Akkadian, an ancient tongue spoken in and we slowed to a crawl.? Peering around the corner, we saw the hooded figures crouched around a squat altar carved with fantastic and hideous figures.? The chanting was mesmerizing but loud.? The grotesquely carved ancient altar was located on a precipice beyond which appeared to be a huge cavern.? The cavern glowed with a sort of phosphorescent fungus.? through the middle of the cavern ran a greasy river on which was a stone clock, with two stone lanterns alight on it and along the walls of the cavern were myriad tunnels leading in all directions.? Bound on the hideous altar was the woman we had glimpsed earlier. ? ? ? ? ? The chief of these chanters stood over her, a wickedly curved dagger grasped firmly in his shaking hands.? He held it blade down in his right hand with his left hand on top, palm down and pointed away from himself.? He swayed drunkenly, screaming out the blasphemous couplets of the deafening chants, which his accomplices repeated.? My friend began to gesture wildly, then he fled screaming up the passage we had so carefully crept down.? I was disconcerted and perturbed at his behavior, for while the scene ahead of us was unusual and distasteful, it was hardly any reason for a gentleman to lose his wits entirely. ? ? ? ? ? A shadow flickering on the wall caught my attention.? I realized with total clarity his screams had been pure instinct, as I felt the terror building inside me.? Crawling over the lip of the precipice was a monster, far more blasphemous against nature than had been depicted on the carvings on the altar, but surely one of the most horrible creatures conceivable.? First appeared a head, a canine-like skull covered with skin as thin as parchment and eyes that glowed with an eerie intelligence.? Following closely two clawed hands and a hunchback body with two dog-like back legs.? I started to run after my companion, but something held me there.? What about the woman?? I could not simply leave her there helplessly bound to die.? The terror in her eyes touched a nerve in me that I had scarcely felt before.? ? ? ? ? ? Sometimes to think is to act and sometimes boldness wins where strength would fail.? I charged the hooded figures, surprising the closest one, and knocked him over with my momentum.? The cloak fell back to reveal his shaven head and cloudy eyes, as if he was in a deep sleep.? He moved very slowly, and in the ensuing panic, I managed to make it to the girl and free her legs.? The leader had just enough time to scream out, "Kill the defilers!" before the creature silenced him.? His order trailed off in a gurgling scream as the monster clung to his victims throat.? ? I grabbed the girl and started to run and just before I turned the corner, I chanced a look back to see more of the hideous monsters pouring over the edge of the precipice.? The acolytes fell easily as the monster horde continued to pour over the edge.? The creatures had expected a tribute, and upon it's interruption, the acolytes became their sacrifice.? As we ran up the steep tunnel, I heard screams of horror.? We reached the gate and swung the heavy gate closed and with relief, heard the lock snap into place.? At the entrance of the passageway, I paused to replace most of the stones and piled the trunks and heavy boxes of books in front of them.? I roused my friend and asked him to look after the health of the woman while I prepared some food for us and had a hefty drink. ? ? ? ? ? Now, after almost a year, I have managed to decipher a part of the singularly ominous folio Mr. VanBuren left behind, and have come about a startling revelation.? By mere coincidence, the night we chose for our nocturnal sojourn was the very night of Walpurgis, one of the few times when the next world nears this one.? According to the tome, my companion and I had interrupted the ceremony meant to fuse the two worlds together, and if completed, would have unleashed those creatures we viewed, and perhaps other 'things' upon this world.? That night, after returning above ground, my friend and I agreed that at first light, we would leave the estate and never return.? I purchased the manor from a local real estate company, and employed a demolition agent to reduce it to rubble.? As for me, I have moved to the country for some rest and relaxation, and to put that horrible night as far out of my mind as possible.? The woman disappeared that night, while my friend and I were discussing our plans, but the murders have stopped.? I could not have beared to stay in that house, knowing what lurks below. ? John Arrington 1927 ? Post script, I pass this letter/account on to my great-great nephew B.J. Cassady who has promised me to keep this secret until my passing. ? B.J. Cassady BJ.Cassady @ af-group.com ? B.J. Cassady is a Stephen Minister at in era USAF vet,? BJ enjoys giving back to the world with his writings and is putting together a CD audio collection of his best writings.? For further information please write: bj.enterprises @juno.com Also look for his story 'Medals' in "More Patriot Hearts" by Coffey and "The Quilt". ? ? ~**~**~ The Cigar Box Debra Shiveley ? It looked to be a long night.? I had agreed to play? the fiddle at a harvest dance in the next county.? At first I had shilly-shalleyed about takin?? the job.? It were a tedious drive over rutted country roads and instead of ridin?? my horse Rusty, I were, perforce, obliged to hire a cheap buckboard from Silverman??s livery stable - a much slower conveyance and a nuisance as well.? It seems I could earn a few much needed dollars by deliverin?? a hand carved chair, ordered by a Mr. Riffle, who
lived in the county to which I??d be a travelin??.? ? By agreein?? to play at old Silverman??s daughter??s weddin??, I had me a free rig for the night.? Grumblin??, I gave a slap of the reins and a ???giddy up??? to the hired horse and set upon my way. ? She were a beauty, and lands sake could my Bessie sing!? She could wail like a new born babe and make the stubbornest foot begin to tap and stomp until the floorboards of the sturdiest barn was a thumpin?? in time to my sweet Bessie??s song.? She were my pride and joy and I never passed an opportunity to show off what she and me could do together.? I couldn??t figure out why she could wail like she did -- better ???an any fiddle I??d ever heard, but I didn??t care none neither.? She were mine and that were all that mattered. ? Many times, I would play her when we was all alone.? I??d go up to the loft of our cabin, hunker down on a old tree stump I??d drug up there, and I??d just play my girl.? Sometimes, a feelin?? of desolation and malaise would come over me, a feelin?? I couldn??t understand, but I figured my Bessie had her reasons so I just kind a flowed with her. ? Anways, here we was a bumpin?? and a jigglin?? over these dad blasted roads, Mr. Riffle??s chair a wobblin?? and a bangin?? in the back, when we come to the woods.? I never did cottin?? to this particular patch of woodland.? I ain??t an imagin??ful man but on the sunniest of days it were forbiddin??.? Dark trees loomed menacin??ly over the road squelching?? the sun, makin?? deep dark patches of dankness; black holes, like some'un had put a red hot poker into the night and left parts that were darker than others; black holes which had burnt away the sky to let in the cold.? ? It were always cold, even on the hottest days, and now, as always,? the chill seemed to creep into my chest.? This were the first time I??d taken my Bessie through these woods and I were concerned lest I would have to high up the horse and make a run through its dark nothin??ness.? ? I grit my teeth and with a somewhat nervous ???Giddy up!??? I urged my equestrian companion forward. ? We finally left the forest without some kind of terrorizin?? happenin?? and a cloud seemed to pass beyond the sun allowin?? a stream of sunlight to fill the road with relief.? I felt better and, knowin?? I were close to my destination, my heart lifted as I made my way to first Mr. Riffle??s and then on to the dance. ? Bessie had endured the ride strapped to my back by a sturdy piece of bailin?? twine.? I kept her there ???cause she were my girl and I didn??t want nothin?? to happen to her.? Nary a scratch nor a dent were allowed to mar her beauty so when I reached the barn where we was supposed to play, it were with renewed pride that I brung my Bessie with me down from the buckboard and strutted into the barn. ? The barn were as festive a place as you??d ever want to see!? Chinese paper lanterns was strung from front to back.? Tables groanin?? with pies, cakes and donuts lined each side, and the floor had been scrubbed then sprinkled with sawdust to give each dancin?? foot better purchase.? It promised to be a grand night and I could feel my Bessie vibrate with anticipation. ? Lots of folks in their Sunday best was there: tight sack coats for the men, colorful calicos, dimities and gingham for the ladies.? I seen a couple of right pretty young gals that might require my attention later on in the evenin??.? ? Now, I don??t want to say I??m good lookin?? but I??ve had my share of eyes made at me and I??ve been told I cut a dashin?? figure.? I??m rather tall, standin?? at six-two with dark hair and eyes.? I prefer the Jesse James Duster to the tight fittin?? sack suit of the times.? The long, loose fittin?? linen coat do cut a dash as I whirl with my Bessie; the ladies, I??ve been told, find my Western wear romantic. ? I tucked my Bessie agin?? my shoulder and blew upon her gently ???Play fair, my sweet Bessie,??? I crooned and as I walked the length of the barn, I resined up my horse hair bow and drew it agin?? my girl??s strings in a long, drawn out note, leadin?? into a dramatic piece that showed off what my Bessie could do.? As I played, I made toward the platform at the back of the buildin??, stoppin?? now and then to appreciate a nubile young lady, then movin?? on, gettin?? in a bit of fancy foot work as I went.? It were my own particular style of enterin?? a dance.? Folks seemed to like it and it made me and Bessie feel right proud.? I leapt upon the platform at the end of the barn and commenced to regale the folks therein with Bessie??s sweet, ulalatin?? music. ? The dancin?? became frenzied.? The floor boards thumped and bowed as the weight of hundreds of feet stomped.? ? The air became warm and close.? Bessie were out doin?? herself and the room seemed to swirl and spin about in a frenzied combination of howlin?? music, swirlin?? skirts and petticoats.? Sweat run into my eyes, my heart raced and Bessie seemed to throb agin?? my arm where she lay.? Then I seen her. ? Removin?? my large white hankie from my coat pocket, I mopped my streamin?? forehead and eyes.? I searched the room for the girl, but she were gone.? Someone shoved a cup in my hand and I swigged, then choked.? Strong corn liquor burned my throat; I felt obliged for the drink.? My head felt light and empty; my stomach churned and tilted. ? I don??t rightly remember much more of the dance.? I guess maybe me and Bessie played some more and maybe we didn??t.? The next time I recollected myself, I were in the rattley buckboard, headin?? towards the woods.? Bessie, once agin across my back, seemed to thrum as we drew nigh the woods.? ???Now, Bessie, it??ll be all right, my girl,??? I crooned.? We entered and blackness fell. ? I heard what seemed to be a Bobcat; unnatural for these parts but not unheard of.? I heard a hiss.? I looked up and there were a gruesome sight!? It were a woman ?? gaunt, pale with eyes like burnin?? coals!? I seen a fallin?? shadow and it were upon me.? At first I were too flummoxed to realize what were a happenin?? and then I realized I were being attacked by some thing from the trees. ? I grabbed for the whip hoping to drive my attacker from me when it wrapped its arms around my neck and hissed agin.? It??s breath were fetid as if blowed out by a rottin?? corpse.? Matted, black hair blew into my face and my open, screamin?? mouth.? It tasted squirmy and dead as if a decayin?? animal had entered that howlin?? cavity.? Taloned nails began to rake my skin and sharp teeth dug into my neck. ? I fought!? I grabbed its arms and tried to release its stranglin?? hold but I were quickly weakenin?? from loss of blood.? I heard it screech, an eerie, manic cry and once again I thought I heard ???I am yours!??? My head begun to swim.? ? I wrastled with the fiend, tryin?? to tear it from my back and finally, leapt from the careenin?? buckboard to the ground, rollin??, rollin??, tryin?? to free myself from its deathly embrace.? The last thing I remember was hearin?? my Bessie crunch beneath my weight. ? They never found my body.? The horse and buckboard returned to the stable and a search were commenced forthwith.? All they found were my Bessie, layin?? in the road in the middle of the forest.? She had splintered and were now a shattered skeleton of wood shards and strings.? Only one part of her remained all of a piece: the bottom of the fiddle, which had once been the lid of the cigar box.? Attached to it were a scrap of pink lace and lettered upon it were one word: ? Bessie ? ? Debra Shiveley Welch merribuck@aol.com ? ? ~**~**~ ? A Super Scary Halloween Story ? By Richard D. Sims ? It was early in the night and it was pitch dark, on Halloween night here in the small city of neck stood up. ? I knew that something real bad and evil was going to happen, I could just feel it but what was it that's what I was wondering. Parents with their small children all out trick or treating filled the dark streets of Arma on this evil and hideous halloween night. It was then that my police scanner came to life. Arma 401 said the county sheriff's dispatch over the radio. Yes! this is Arma 401 go ahead county, Arma 401 we have had a dangerous? killer escape from custody, he was last seen in Arma! ? Oh my God no county! I have citizens with their small children all out trick or treating all over the streets of Arma. Arma 401 you must warn them and tell them to go home, lock their doors and stay put. Let them know that if they see someone strange or suspicious to report it to you immediately. Will do county, could you send me someone ? over here to help me get everyone off the streets. Yes Arma 401 we will be sending five county units over to help you. Okay thanks county, I am going to turn on my lights and my public address loud speaker on and start getting these people off the streets. ? We seen him coming down the street with his lights flashing and his loud speaker blaring out everyone needs to go home get inside and lock your doors, we have a dangerous, desperate and blood thirsty killer at large here in Arma. This is no joke, please report anyone strange or suspicious to us right away. now we are starting to hear the five county units as they are driving around town helping warn everyone. It was then that it dawned on me that my son Rick was out working on the carport installing a new motor and transmission in his four wheel drive pickup. ? I ran to the back door to get him to come in where it was safe, but he wasn't to be seen anywhere. The trouble light he had been using was hanging off the truck with the light still burning, I noticed that my shop door was closed for some strange reason. Could it be that the escape killer had got him already and was holding him hostage, or had killed him. I told my wife Jackie that I was going out to find Rick and get him in the house, she said not alone Mr. I am going with you. I said, no way your staying in here as I walked out the back door. It was too late she was right behind me. ? We heard a strange painful moaning noise, it was blood curdling as we passed the front of Rick's truck. right under the front bumper was a bumper jack with the handle still sticking out of it. Jackie told me to grab it at least I'd have a weapon if need be. Now coming to the passenger side of Rick's truck we heard the loud moaning again alot louder I jumped and went sprawling to the concrete floor of the carport. That's when I founded Rick trapped under his truck, the transmission had fallen down on him while he was trying to install it. he was wedged in under the transmission so tight that all he could do was to let out that blood curdling painful moaning noise. ? Jackie and I both worked and got the truck jacked up and the transmission off of him and helped him out from under the truck. He wasn't hurt, just had the breath knocked out of him, ? I was scared and shaking thinking that truck could have squashed him to death. The three of us finally made it into the house and locked the back door behind us. Oh no! we soon noticed that there was an uninvited guest in our son James's bedroom, it was the killer while we was outside saving Rick the killer had gotten in the house and was in James's bedroom holding a knife to James's throat. ? I tried to reason with the killer telling him to let James's go and take me hostage instead. No way was he going to do that he wasn't going to take that knife away from James's throat. Then all of a sudden the loud speaker on the police car roared out. Distracting the killer and James stabbed the killer in the groin area with his ink pin. Rick and I jumped the already in bad pain killer, and my wife Jackie smacked him up side the head with James's telephone and phoned the police. Who came and took the poor old blood thirsty killer to jail ending and evil and hideous Halloween night! Just goes to show you three strikes and you out at the old ball game. ? Now if you really believed this Halloween story I just told you. 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