Curse of the Hallow Moon

By Editingle Indie House

Halloween can be a scream, the trick or treaters ultimate dream, on a dark, dreary night.

When the dead start rising, therefore surprising, making them take flight.

Goblins and ghouls are no fools

• Language: English
• Publisher: Editingle Indie House
• Release date: Oct 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9788195458806

Book preview

Table of Contents

Idle Hands

All Hell This Eve

The Glass Vampire

Beyond the Valley

Inheritance

Daisy the Werecow

Locked in Public Storage

Digging

The Ghost of Michigan

The Whispers of the Childern’s Room

Idle Hands

E

very family has stories. Stories of Christmases and birthdays. Funny stories and sad ones. Handed-down family history, if you will, and when we get together, we love to reminisce about them. About the old days. Some stories are unusual or even something scary that happened to one of our family members. Well, this is one of the latter, and if you’ll be patient, I think it will be satisfying and intriguing, maybe even chilled. Just trust me.

This story was told to me by my beloved grandfather, whom I always called ‘Grandpa’. I was fifteen years old at the time. I adored my grandpa, and he felt the same as me. I followed him everywhere like a lost puppy.

On one of his visits, which was during the Halloween season, he told me a particularly chilling story about his teen years at fifteen. Grandpa loved to tell me scary stories and there was nothing I liked more. It was our thing.

I’m older now, and I have a husband and children of my own, but I wanted to relate this story to those who can appreciate the eternal love grandparents have for their grandchildren, and I promise you, if you stay until the end, you will be rewarded. My Grandpa’s story began like this:

  Grandpa! I’m glad you came today. Do you have a story to tell me? Make it a scary one! Oh, I know! How about when you were my age, what did you do for Halloween?

Well, let’s see... when I was fifteen...

  Grandpa!

  What? Oh, right! What did I do on Halloween when I was your age? I don’t know if you should hear this. I mean, it’s not pretty. It’s downright scary as hell!

  The scarier, the better.

  You might change your mind afterward.

  Come on Grandpa, quit teasing me and tell the story!

Precious, truly, I’m not teasing. I don’t want you to have nightmares because of me. Besides, this is about teenage boys and when they’re by themselves, they use colorful language. Your mom and dad won’t be happy with me.

I watch scary stuff all the time on TV and the internet. I don’t have nightmares and Grandpa... I go to school with teenage boys, I know how they talk.

I see your point. Well, just remember, I warned you. Have I ever told you idle hands are the devil’s playground?

  Grandma told me that.

  Well, it’s true, as you’re about to find out, it was like this…

  It was nineteen seventy-five, and I was fifteen years old. I had planned to go to a Halloween party with friends. But not everyone from my school had such plans. Some boys, a couple of them who were troublemakers in my school, named Paul and Ben, had schemed to go out and pull tricks, rather than asking for treats. What they thought of as fun, most considered as mayhem, cruelty, and plain old vandalism. I knew about it because they had bragged for weeks about the chaos they had planned.

I wanted nothing to do with their plans because I knew they usually end up in trouble with parents, teachers, and the law. They weren’t bullies, Paul and Ben, just reckless braggarts. Perhaps they should have had some hobbies to keep them out of trouble.

Paul was a lanky guy with a shock of light brown hair just past his ears—most of us had long hair in those days—and six feet tall. He was partial to muscle shirts when he wasn’t in school. I realize now how silly he looked being so skinny in a muscle shirt, but when you’re a fifteen-year-old kid, you look at and see things from a different perspective. Make no mistake, he could be bad and inconsiderate or just mean, but it was more to do with not thinking than being an evil soul, at least in my humble opinion.

Ben was a follower. I say that because wherever Paul went, Ben followed. He wasn’t a thinker either, nor a leader. If Paul did it, then Ben had to as well.

Ben was about five-foot-eight with an average build. He had straight dark brown hair and wore disco clothes whenever he could. I would have been embarrassed, but Ben had no shame. His entire goal in life was, as he put it, ‘To get as much—a bad word—as I can before I die.’

What bad word Grandpa?

Never you mind, just listen to the story.

He said the slang for lady parts, didn’t he?

Umm... I don’t know, just listen to the story.

This is why he always wore very spiffy disco clothes at school. Shiny polyester silk-like shirts, French-cut bellbottom pants, and black platform leather shoes. Out of school, he dressed like everyone else in nineteen seventy-five.

Lady parts, I knew it!

Mikayla! Do you wanna hear the story or not?

Go ahead, Grandpa.

Thank you, dear.

So, I was all excited about the party I was to attend. Especially since there would be girls there. I was girl-crazy, still am doncha know!"

I’m gonna tell grandma.

She was the girl I was crazy about.

Grandma?

You betcha! That’s where I met her, at the party. She was dressed as Little Bo-Peep... wow! And here I was dressed as Count Dracula. The essence of innocence and the epitome of evil! I guess they go together, yin and yang, that sort of thing.

"Anyway, I saw her across the room, sitting by herself. Well, your Grandpa’s no fool. I went over and introduced myself in a Romanian Dracula accent, ‘Good evening, let me introduce myself, I am Count Dracula.’ I took her hand and kissed it as you see in the movies, and then in my real voice, I introduced myself again. She laughed and said, ‘You’re pretty funny for a vampire.’ I told her it was a hormone thing I gonna have fixed, but now I’ve changed my mind. She thought that was hilarious."

It is pretty funny, Grandpa, and slick too!

"Yeah? Well, your grandpa has been around the block a time or two. Anyway, we hit it off right there and then. We were together throughout high school and after that, we got married. Your grandmother was always the love of my life. I used to smack her on the bottom and say, ‘Love you, babe’."

That’s about as pretty as this story gets, and it goes downhill from here.

Paul and Ben were invited to the party too... but they chose wrong, literally. They thought a little criminal activity would be much more fun than some old, boring Halloween party. At least I got a wife out of the deal instead of jail.

Is this the scary part Grandpa?

I’ll let you be the judge.

Paul and Ben could always be seen in the neighborhoods and around town on their bicycles. Wherever they were, there was sure to be some kind of trouble. But this night was exceptional. They had a chaos spree planned all across the town.

Hey man, you going to that lame Halloween party? Paul asked.

Are you kiddin’ me? Hell no, I’m hangin’ with you. What do you wanna do?

Check this out. Since we’re not going to a party, and we aren’t gonna get any treats, then I think it requires us to do tricks. Like we write stuff on people’s windows with soap, and we gotta toilet paper trees and houses. I mean, like it’s a Halloween law or somethin’.

Oh yeah, replied Ben. We could let the air out of people’s tires. Oh, and siphon gas outta’ cars.

What are we gonna do with gas? We’re ridin’ bikes!

Oh yeah, right. Well, what else then.

Haven’t you ever heard of flaming bags of poop on people’s porches?

Yeah, that’s good too!

We’re gonna start with soap, cars, and house windows, Paul ordered.

So, they started down the darkest streets with their soap, writing curse words and insults all over the windows of cars and houses. They would write things like ‘A butthead lives here’ or ‘Only an idiot would drive a crappy car like this’ and much worse.

That’s funny Grandpa.

Not if it’s your car or house. They rode around many neighborhoods doing this.

Hey Paul, I’m gettin’ tired of soapin’ windows. Let’s do somethin’ else.

I got one of those Schrader valve tools. You can take the whole valve out. They won’t be able to keep any air in their tires if we take the valves out!

Oh man, that’s funny as hell! Let’s do it!

They went from car to car throughout the neighborhoods, taking the valves out of valve stems. Folks had flat tires and when they tried to pump them up, the air just came right back out.

When they were tired of those dirty deeds, they stopped at a little all-night gas station, contemplating what rotten thing they would do next. They sat under the harsh light of a streetlamp straddling their bikes, rolling them forward and back while discussing their plans for more mayhem, each idea worse than the last.

Check it out, Ben, looky what I got.

A dozen eggs! Ha-ha-ha. This should be a blast!

Yep, but a dozen ain’t gonna go far, so we use only one egg per car.

I say we do the front windshields. It’ll smear all over.

That’s the idea.

And... I saved the best for last. We’re gonna go to the south side of town to the cemetery. We’re gonna shove some headstones, maybe even find some headstones of people we hate. They’ll have to go all over the graveyard and set’em back up!

Oh yeah, on the other side of the four-lane highway... State Road 32.

That’s the one buddy. We’ll call it a night afterward.

So, the boys rode off into the darkness of the narrow neighborhood streets, looking to egg the nicest cars. They didn’t want to ‘waste’ their eggs on junky, dirty cars. For each of their dirty tricks, they picked a different neighborhood, so few of them remained unscathed.

Woo-hoo, a very nice Mercedes-Benz. It’d be a shame if an egg landed on it. Whoops! It did, right on the windshield. Too bad. Ha-ha, laughed Paul. But as soon as the egg landed, it set the car alarm off, and the owner came out.

Hey, you little creeps! I’m calling the cops!

Oh crap! Go, let’s get out of here!

They dropped the eggs in the street and peddled as fast as they could.

We gotta hide, man! Where we gonna go? asked Ben.

Use the alleys. We’ll go to the old train bridge outside of town. The trains don’t run there anymore. We can hide under it for a while. It’s dark as hell, they won’t be able to see us, even if they check there.

So, they rode like mad to avoid the police. They took streets and alleys that were seldom traveled all the way to the outskirts of town. Now the outskirts were no place for two young boys to be. Nothing good ever happened there in the dead of night, and these two weren’t the only criminals to seek refuge in the area. There were criminals of a much more violent nature. 

And that I believe explains other things which happen there. The ghosts of murder victims are claimed to haunt the area, looking for revenge for their slaying. It’s a perfect place to hide a body. The bridge area is chock-full of tall weeds, trash, old tires, and God knows what else. Certainly, there are snakes and other wild animals that make their homes among the rubbish and dense brush.

  Do they get killed there?

  Now who’s telling the story, Mikayla, you or me?

  You, Grandpa, tell me the story. 

They hid their bikes in the weeds, crouched down, and discussed what they would do next if the police didn’t come in half an hour.

Look man, Paul pointed out, we gotta stay here for a little while until things cool off, and then we’ll get going again. The fun ain’t over. This is just a minor hiccup.

  We almost got caught!

  No, we didn’t; he said he was going to call the police. By the time he could have made the call, we were already long gone.

  What if they come looking for us out here?

  For egging cars? I bet they won’t bother. Even if they do, they can’t see us in the weeds.

  Lights! Car lights are coming!

  Damn, I figured they wouldn’t come all the way out here just for Halloween pranks. It ain’t like we killed or attacked somebody.

They got as low as they could in the weeds. There were two cars… it was the police! They shined their spotlight around the bridge, but not the weeds and trash. The officers parked their cars and got out.

David-45 dispatch. We’re on scene at the old railroad bridge on Johnson Road. Looks clear, we’re gonna check it out.

  Clear David-45 at 01:15 hours.

  Whadaya say, Bill? Feel like wading in the weeds?

You’re outta your mind if you think I’m gonna go in there! There’s old tires full of mosquitoes, snakes, raccoons, rats, and God only knows what else. I’m not goin’ in there for Halloween pranks, you and I both know we did ourselves as kids. I’m not gettin’ rabies, tetanus, or some kind of damn plague from all the bugs in there! 

Yeah, screw this. I haven’t even had dinner yet. Let’s mark back in service.

David-45 dispatch, we’ll both be in service. Unable to locate.

Clear David-45, you’re both in service at 01:27 hours.

Paul and Ben were hiding in the weeds and shaking like dogs in a freezing snowstorm. They were only relieved to see the police get back in their cars and leave.

Holy hell, that was close! exclaimed Paul. I thought they had us. I mean, I figured we were headed to juvie.

Did you hear what the cops said? There’s all kinds of snakes and raccoons in this garbage. Let’s get out of here, get our bikes, and go back over to the bridge for a little bit.

Well, what are we gonna do next?

I got lunch bags, and there’s plenty of dog poop around. I also have a little can of lighter fluid and a Bic lighter. What do you think we’re gonna do next?

Oh man, burning poop!

No, shit!

Yes shit, dog shit.

This is gonna be funny as hell.

All we gotta do is get a stick, put dog poop in the bag. We close up the bag and pour a little lighter fluid on it, and light it. Then we ring the doorbell and run like hell.

Just then, as Paul was explaining their next nefarious activity, they heard a car driving toward them, but there were no lights. They could hear car tires rolling on the dirt and gravel but saw no car. It sounded as though the car was right in front of them. They heard car doors opening and closing. Someone in a muffled voice, probably gagged, begged, and pleaded. Then a loud gunshot rang out! After this came the sound of walking and something heavy being thrown into the weeds. The boys looked over at the weeds, but there was nothing there. The next sounds were of car doors opening and closing and then a motor revving as the car sped off. During this entire time, the boys saw nothing, yet it all sounded as though it occurred right in front of them!

What was it, Grandpa? Why didn’t they see anything?

You’ll just have to wait to find out.

Phooey.

You’ll see honey.

Holy crap! What the hell was that? What was that? Paul cried out.

Uh… Paul... my dad says more than one murder victim was dumped out here a long time ago.

You mean… ghosts?

What would you call it? What else could it be?

We didn’t see any…

We didn’t see any... what? We didn’t see any... what, Paul? Paul?

Oh shit! The weeds! Look at the weeds! Do you see it?!

In the trash choked weeds hovered an image, an apparition of a human. It seemed to be made of a mist which swirled and wavered slightly as if it were only partially in our reality.

That’s a… it’s a… it looks like smoke in the shape of a man!

Let’s get the hell out of here!

The boys beat feet the hell out of that awful place as fast as their bikes would carry them! The first neighborhood they came to from the train bridge, they stopped to rest and collect their thoughts.

Did you see it? Did you see that, Ben? Oh my God, what was that thing?

That thing was a ghost! It’s just like everyone says, murder victims haunted the place or at least one of them for sure!

I’ve never seen a ghost before. My mom and dad always say there’s no such thing.

That’s kinda dumb. If they believe in heaven, what is it they think goes there?

Then why is the guy there in the weeds instead of heaven?

Who knows? Maybe he was also a bad guy and is afraid if he goes into the light he’ll end up in hell, so he stays here. I mean, didn’t it sound like a Mafia murder?

Well, whatever the reason, I ain’t goin’ out there ever again! I wonder if those cops ever saw anything out there? 

I’m not gonna ask them, are you?

No, at least not right now.

Are we still gonna do the dog poop in a sack?

Yeah, but that was freakin’ unbelievable!

Why are you shivering, Mikayla? Did it scare you?

No, I just need my blanket. Grandpa, is this a true story?

It really happened when I was fifteen. Just ask older folks around town. I think a lot of them should know the story. 

The boys stood around discussing the unbelievable events their ears had just witnessed for several minutes.

I thought people see ghosts, not hear them, or at least they see and hear them, Paul continued.

Well, what about moaning in haunted houses? That’s not seeing a ghost, just hearing.

Oh yeah, I guess you’re right. Well, anyway, that scared the shit out of me!

Ben, scouring the ground for doggy doo, asked, Speaking of that, you think this is enough poop for one sack?     

Paul, did you hear me?

What?

You think this is enough dog poop?

Yeah, that’s good enough. See that big old car? You know an old person lives there. It’s a grandpa car. We put it on his doorstep. He’ll stomp on it. It’ll be great!

So, our two idiots took their sack of poop, poured lighter fluid on it, and walked up the steps to the old man’s porch, lit the sack on fire, and rang the doorbell. And, of course, they were right. He came to the door, saw the bag on fire, and stomped on it… barefoot!

Ha-ha-ha-ha, that’s the funniest shit I ever saw! Get it? Funniest shit? laughed Paul.

Ben could not respond because he was rolling on the ground laughing and holding his gut. The old man, confused, said, ‘What the hell? What the hell is this?’ as he lifted his barefoot and saw dog crap smeared all over it and between his toes.

You know what, Ben? I’d say that guy was ‘hopping mad’!

Yeah, he really stepped in it that time!

And of course, Paul and Ben continued to laugh, rolling on the ground and holding their sides. The old man hopped inside his house, cursing the two morons hiding in the bushes.

The next brilliant idea these two had was to get a small firecracker and stick it in a neighborhood cat’s butt and light it. Of course, being the two little jackasses they were, they envisioned the cat running down the street screeching.

I’m not gonna say any more about it because I genuinely hate people that abuse animals, and I don’t want you hearing what Grandpa says when he’s really mad!

I don’t know which is funnier, said Paul. The eggs on that rich guy’s Mercedes or the flaming poop. 

The old guy stepping in flaming dog shit was pretty damn funny. It might be a draw. So, what’s next?

I got big M-80 firecrackers!

Gosh, and gee-willikers Paul, whatever shall we do with those?

So many mailboxes, so little time.

Sporting devilish smiles, the boys got back on their bikes and headed towards the south side of town to State Road 32. They came up to the highway and got off their bikes to run them across. As they crossed, a car with no headlights on barreled down the road at seventy mph." 

Holy shit, that was close! Goddamn, asshole almost clocked us both! Paul yelled.

He’s probably shitfaced too!

At least we made it across. That idiot is gonna kill somebody, himself, or both.

Seems really quiet in this neighborhood, ya know? Ain’t no dogs barking, no raccoons in trash cans, no crickets.

So?

So, I’m just sayin’ it’s weird.

Bet you won’t think so when we start lightin’ these M-80’s off!

They came upon a row of mailboxes next to the street. And decided to each put an M-80 into a mailbox and pedal away fast.

Light the fuse, instructed Paul. toss it in the box, and shut the lid. Okay, one, two, three, toss it in, let’s go!

They waited for the explosions… BOOM-BOOM! The mailbox doors flew open, one coming completely off. Laughing, they pedaled away on their bikes and stopped at the corner.

Holy shit, that was loud! Ben yelled.

Hey, said Paul. Where’re all the people? Why aren’t they coming out? Why aren’t their lights coming on?! Those were loud enough to wake the dead.

What’s the deal, man? They can’t all be asleep! That should have woken them up.

But no one came to their door or window. No one stirred, not even one tiny animal.

What gives? Ben asked.

Must be something toxic around here, and they had to abandon the houses.

Then we better leave. I don’t wanna get poisoned. I saw that kind of stuff on the news.

What kind of poison, Grandpa?

Well, now that’s the surprise, isn’t it?

Whadda we gonna do next? asked Ben.

My grandma lives on this side, and her next-door neighbor has a mean cat. The damn thing tries to attack me every time I come over. I’m gonna throw my jacket over it and stick this little firecracker up its butt and light it. Friggin’ cat won’t bother me again.

The boys rolled up in front of Paul’s grandmother’s house, looking for the cat.

There it is! pointed Ben.

Nah, that ain’t it. That’s a black cat. This cat is yellow and orange, a tomcat.

Nobody is up over here. Not even a porch light.

Well, I know for a fact, there ain’t no chemicals spilled over here. My grandma would have told us all. Besides, she would have had to move in with us.

Yeah, that makes sense. Anyway, we don’t want to wake up your grandma. She’d probably know it was us that blew up the cat’s butt.

I didn’t think of that. She’d hate me for sure. She loves cats. Well, not her neighbor’s cat. She knows it attacks me. Damn cat.

Oh good, they didn’t hurt the cat, even though it’s mean.

Well, dear, animals can sense evil. Maybe it was only mean to Paul. Are you trying to drag this story out, Mikayla? Wipe that silly grin off your pretty face so we can continue with Grandpa’s story. 

The boys pedaled out of the neighborhood and rounded a corner to the next one.

Uh oh, cautioned Paul. I see two big dogs, Rottweilers, I think. They could bite us in two if they wanted.

Two huge black and brown Rottweilers sat on a lawn staring at the boys and making a low, growling sound, watching every move the boys made.

Uh… Paul? They don’t look real happy to see us.

Just slowly pedal away from them.

Where do we go?

Away from them! Follow me.

The boys began ever so slowly to pedal away from the dogs. Paul thought if they just left slowly and ignored the dogs, they might be safe. But the huge animals watched the boys for only a few seconds, then lifted off their haunches and trotted after them.

Oh shit, Paul, they’re following us! Now what?

Pedal as fast as you can, damnit! Now!

The boys pedaled faster than they ever had in their lives! But the two ferocious dogs kept up right behind them. They pedaled until they thought their lungs would burst! They could hear the dogs’ large pads hitting the ground, chasing them. Suddenly, the sound was gone.

Ben! Where did the dogs go?!

Hellifino. I turned around to look after I didn’t hear them behind us anymore, and they were gone!

They could have killed us if they wanted to. If they had gotten ahold of us, we’d be dead for sure!

Yeah, you don’t mess around with Rottweilers. Where the hell are we at, anyway?

Close to downtown, I think. Let’s go see what’s going on there.

Now the boys headed down a silent, dark street toward the center of town. The wet, black pavement reflecting the moonlight coming through the trees as they headed for every water puddle in the roadway. They arrived downtown, where they were confronted with an unsettling view. It was clear something was very wrong.

Paul? You ever seen the lights out downtown?

No.

  You ever seen downtown with not a single soul on the streets or sidewalks at any time of the day or night.

No, Ben, I ain’t.

Paul?

What?

I’m gettin’ scared. What the hell is this shit?

I don’t know. It’s looking like we’re in a nightmare.

Well, I wanna wake up!

Me too, Ben, me too.

Paul?

What?

Listen! Do you hear a truck?

Yeah, it sounds... it sounds like it’s gettin’ closer.

Look! Here it comes. What is… what the heck is it? It looks like a milk truck from the 1950s… Fletcher’s Dairyland Best Milk & Cream.

That’s gotta be like a restoration kind of thing. My grandpa was a milkman, and Fletcher’s is the dairy he worked for. They haven’t delivered milk for a long time. They don’t have milkmen anymore.

Yeah, I’ve seen that. Companies do car and truck restorations as a sales gimmick… nostalgia stuff.

I betcha that’s the deal. Hell, that truck looked brand new.

The boys crossed the town, taking note while they had a reasonable explanation of the milk truck. It still didn’t explain a dark, abandoned downtown save for one old truck.

The sooner we get out of here, the better! Too freakin’ weird, said Paul.

Just then, they heard the clip-clop of horse hooves on bricks or pavement. They looked down a dark alley from which the sound came. They could see a horse with black leather tack walking toward them, but there seemed to be another unrecognizable sound accompanied by the horse’s hooves. The boys waited and could see as it reached the end of the alley; it was the wheels of a horse-drawn insulated wagon. On the side of it, was painted Reid & Sons Icehouse.

Okay, this just got officially twilight-zone bullshit. That… is the iceman. He sells enormous square blocks of ice for people’s ice-boxes, said Ben. I mean real ice-boxes, not what your grandma and grandpa call a refrigerator. There is no Reid and Sons Icehouse. It burned down before we were born. They never rebuilt it.

Let’s get the friggin’ hell out of here! I just wanna wake up damnit!

The boys pedaled out of downtown toward another neighborhood of old homes. They came upon a little bungalow which, at any other time, would look cozy and inviting. It was anything but in the twisted moonlight of this eerie Halloween night. Nothing appeared normal to Paul and Ben. Where were the trick or treaters, they wondered? Where was anybody?

Paul, why is there a guy using an old manual push mower in front of that little cottage house in the middle of the night? And why is it not making any sound?

Why is any of this, Ben? This night is crazy! Hell, look! He’s grinning and waving at us as if he does this kooky shit all the time. Must have a case of shit-for-brains.

  Well, at least he can see us, that’s somethin’

  Is it me, or is there something on the ground skittering? Little things, rats maybe.

I don’t see any rats, Paul, just… what was that little black thing across the street?

  Uh-huh, you see it too! Thousands of them! It looks like little black rats or something, they just… skitter.

In the moonlight, they caught a glimpse of one of the little black things.

That ain’t no rat Paul, they’re… they’re… they’re huge cockroaches! Huge goddamn cockroaches!

Go! Let’s go!

A sick, crunching sound could be heard as their tires rolled over the giant bugs. Green goo squirted out of the huge cockroaches as they crushed beneath the bicycle tires.

I think I’m gonna throw up once we get out of here.

They musta come up from the sewer! Sick man!

Let’s just head down Main street to get out of downtown.

It just keeps getting weirder and weirder, Paul said.       

As they pedaled out of downtown, Ben spied a billboard advertisement. But something was wrong with the timing of it, more than a decade off, in fact. 

Uh, Paul, why is there a billboard with a Studebaker on it? They don’t make Studebakers anymore, do they?

See the new Studebaker Avanti at your dealer today? What the hell?! They went out of business when I was a toddler! I’ve officially lost my damn mind!

I see it too, Paul. I know what an Avanti looks like. My dad built a model of one a few years ago.

But the strangeness didn’t end there for them. It continued to spiral into a dizzying array of signs that things were wrong. Very wrong.

Look across the street! Really? A radio repair shop? There’s nothing to repair anymore except for really old tube radios. It ain’t like they’re everywhere these days."

Maybe that’s what it’s for, for people who still have those tube radios, you know, they look like furniture? They probably sell transistor radios too and TVs.

Okay, I’ll give you that one. My grandpa still has one he listens to. He bought it during World War two.

There is one other thing… please tell me if I’m wrong. Look in the window. What’s missing?

Well, maybe the TVs are in the back.

That’s not what I mean. Where are our reflections in the glass?

The color drained from their faces. The moonlight was coming from behind them, so they should have seen their shadows at the very least. There was no explanation why they didn’t have a reflection.

I think we’re in some kind of time warp, Ben. I mean, what else could this be? It’s insane.

The boys heard a strange sound, like stiff paper making a crackling noise or a popping campfire, coming from somewhere near the ground.

Do you hear that, Ben?

Yeah, sounds like a… a fire, maybe.

But there was no fire in sight.

Uh… Ben? That’s no fire; look at the sewer grate!

A slithering black sand came pouring out of the street’s sewer grate toward the boys and over the cockroaches they previously were fleeing. As the black sand passed over the pile of dead roaches, it either ate them or dissolved them, for after the sand had left, there were no dead roaches in sight!

Oh my God! Did you see that? Did you see that freakin’ thing, Paul? It ate the roaches!

It’s coming! It’ll do the same to us! We gotta go buddy, right now!

The crawling black sand came ever faster after the boys. The more it ate, the faster it was. 

In their panic, the boys didn’t pick a direction. They simply pedaled as fast as their legs would carry them. Now they found themselves back downtown. Back in the worst part of their nightmare. They had to go somewhere to get away from the black crawling sand, but where? They’d be dissolved alive, just like the piles of dead roaches if it caught them.

It’s getting pretty scary, Grandpa.

Do you want me to stop now?

No! I just meant it was getting good.

Oh, I see. Okay then, on with the show.

Where the hell are we going, Paul? Why are we back downtown?

We’re going to the hardware store. I can get in the back door. I’ve done it before.

They rode their bikes to the back of Newberry’s Hardware. Paul jumped off his bike and kicked open the old wooden door. They brought their bikes inside and slammed the door closed, piling heavy items against it, hoping to keep the black sand out.

Paul, did you see? Did you see the sand get bigger when it ate the roaches?

Yeah, and it got faster too!

It’s like living black acid! What the hell else is in the sewer?!

We ain’t gonna stick around long enough to find out if I can help it.

What are we gonna do?

We wait until it’s gone.

Well, shit, who knows how long that’s gonna be?!

If you’ve got a better idea, I’d sure as hell like to know what it is.

No.

The two sat on boxes of bolts, and lawnmower parts contemplating their next move. Ben put his face in his hands and rocked back and forth, while Paul scanned the area around him for anything they could use for a weapon or protection.

Ben, it’s gonna be okay. We’ll get out of here. We just have to figure out a way.

Yeah? Well, I’m not so sure. I’d rather be shot in the head than get dissolved by that… that sand.

Me too, but that ain’t gonna happen. We gotta think. We gotta be smart.

How long before that shit is fast enough to outrun us on our bikes? Did you think of that? What else, besides us, is there for it to eat? Rats? Garbage? Dead birds? We’re screwed, blued, and tattooed if we don’t get out of here soon.

Okay then, pull yourself together. We need to look for anything we can use against it. Chemicals, sheets of metal, fire maybe, and something to carry with us.

  As they were discussing all this, a noise came from a corner in the stockroom.

Hey, Ben whispered. Did you hear that?

What?

Over there, in the corner. There’s somebody over there.

Who’s there?!

I think it came from under the pile of hoses.

You… you better come out before we beat your ass!

Paul! We don’t know what’s under there!

The boys edged closer to try and find out what was hiding under the hoses.

It moved! Ben exclaimed.

Hey, you… under the hoses; we know you’re there. You might as well come out.

The pile moved again, but this time hoses fell off the pile. A little boy with dirty blond hair and filthy clothes, about eight years old, cautiously came out from under the pile as the rest of the hoses fell onto the floor.

He was hiding too, huh, Grandpa?

Looks that way.

He stood there next to his former hiding place. The little boy shook and whimpered, looking at Paul and Ben with eyes wide.

What’s your name, little boy? Paul asked.

T...T...Tommy.

How did you get here?

I dunno.

Well, where are your parents?

I dunno.

Where is everyone else?

I dunno.

Did something bad happen downtown? Why is everyone gone?

Tommy shrugged.

So you don’t know anything at all about what is going on?

Tommy thought for a minute.

It’s always dark. And there’s a monster.

A monster? What kind of monster? Ben urged.

I dunno. It’s scary.

Well, how’d you get into this store? asked Paul.

The basement window.

It was the window the boys had seen from the outside, but it was only big enough for a small child to crawl through.

I was scared of the basement, so I came up here. My mommy said to never go into the basement to get away because there’s no way out.

You have a smart mommy. I don’t think I ever thought of that.

How are you getting something to eat?

I broke into the candy machine, and the drinking fountain has water.

Does the monster know you’re in here?

I dunno, it never comes here.

Where does it go?

Sometimes it slides on the street. Sometimes it crawls in the grass.

What does the monster do?

It slides and eats stuff. It ate a squirrel. The squirrel tried to get away, but the monster crawled over it, and it was gone.

Have you been anywhere else downtown?

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