Creepy HALLOWEEN story...one day left!

Plunging has been used so many times but maybe that's because that's really the best way to describe it. The knife plunging into the soft fleshy part of his abdomen. The blood pooling around the blade and filling the gap that I forced in him, after I pull the blade out terrified by what I've done.

The tip of the knife points to the sky and the blood drips down the blade finding my fingers tightly fastened around the handle. The warmth of the blood startles me and I let the knife fall. I flinch at the sound of the knife clattering on the ground.

His eyes, alert, alive, stare at me devouring ever ounce of me. Guilt consumes me the same way his eyes do. I wonder, for a moment, if this is how he felt as he attacked me over and over again.

His hands once clamping around his wound, twitch; they don't twitch with the cold shivers of death. They twitch with action. My numbed body can hardly digest his movements until I feel his hands clamped around my neck. I dropped the knife, that's probably what he was waiting for, he was ready to attack again.

My nails claw at his hand, struggling to force him off of me. If he is going to choke the life out of me then he is going to have to stare into my eyes as I die. But the gleam of cruelty in his eye suggests that he doesn't care. If guilt of killing me isn't going to stop him then I have to.

Darkness thickens along the edges of my vision and I can feel my muscles weakening as they gasp for air, energy, anything that will sustain them. My hand plummets at his wound forcing him to let go of me. He struggles to breathe but I don't fall to guilt. I pick up the knife, greeting the stickiness of the blood that stains the handle.

Over and over I plunge the blade into him. Smiling at each scream that bursts out of his mouth. Welcoming the most painful shudders that he contorts. Until everything stops. His eyes frozen in their horrific emptiness, the emptiness that I caused him.

How can I make the decision that stole the thought from a person's eyes, the breath from their lungs. I should be terrified, I am terrified but not because he's dead because I don't feel bad. I don't feel anything. I feel more alive now than I ever was. But who...what does that make me? I know who I am now. I am a monster.

Day...whatever...

The moment I found him everything changed. My innocents ended, in just one second, just one glance. Every time I blink I can see his emptiness, his eyes glazed over with the horrifying blankness. The blood, that stained the once beautiful rich soil of where grass was turned up, may never leave my memories.

I came here to mourn my cousin, my friend and instead I now mourn my innocents. I mourn for the life of a person I don't know. A life that never entwined with mine until death parted him from this world.

He shouldn't matter to me. He should be just a person in a cemetery, like all the rest, like my cousin, but somehow seeing his emptiness, his blood draped across the mound of dirt that hides another person from the rest of the world; somehow it changes everything. Me. It changes me.

Who was he before I found him? Before his blood spilt onto the dirt? Before his eyes glazed over, mimicking glass?

I shake my head and bite my lip. I don't care. I don't care. I tell myself but it doesn't keep the tears from building in my eyes and hazing my contact with the world. This is ridiculous of me. I squeeze my hands into fist so hard that my fingernails bite my palm. I don't even know this man. It doesn't matter. I ball my fists up so tight that I can feel my fingernails cutting into my skin.

I feel a hand on my shoulder before I register the investigators voice. He repeats himself. "A counselor is on the way."

I hold my breath and nod. The investigator looks me over, his lips set in a line and then his eyes catch notice of my hand. He lingers near me like he's trying to comfort me without words. But I don't need to be comforted. I let my hands clench harder into my palm.

The investigator notices and grabs my hand. He holds my fist between his hands, trying to loosen it without force. Eventually the tension does loosen and my fists come apart. My fingernails are red with blood, my blood. This lifeless body has damaged me. It's because of him that I feel like curling into a ball. Because of him I have inflicted pain on myself, even if I don't feel it.

Day: 6

She screams so loud the speakers make cracking noises. "Help me! Help me, someone!" Over and over again, desperate attempts to plea with me and when that doesn't work, anyone else who can hear her. But no one can, I made sure that she was so isolated that no one would find her, but just in case she lucks out and someone does come close enough to hear, I have made the small shack soundproof.

A smile creeps onto my face when I see that all of her struggling has cause a wound on her elbow. I would have thought that she was smart enough to tell that she couldn't get out, but she's one of those girls that won't give up and is dumb enough to try anything.

Her screams start to quiet down for a moment and so I turn up the volume. "Why me?" She asks, like every girl that has been trapped in that small shack. For some strange reason the answer is my favorite, because I chose you. Really it is a compliment but none of them take it as one, instead they whimper or beg or scream--something loud and annoying. Maybe if they were quieter we could spend more time together.

My dad, the one that taught me all of my strategies, has always said I pick the wrong ones. But he doesn't agree with anything I do or however I do it. I don't care what he thinks, he left me to do this chore by myself. I used to believe that once I started getting better at it then he would be pleased with me, but it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.

"Let me out of here!" Her voice, once soft, now has a roughness to it from screaming so much. I hate the sound. I turn the volume down again but close up on her. I better leave soon so I can get to her before seven, I don't like to be out there when it's so cold, neither does she or any of the previous ones, I'll bring her a blanket.

I leave the computer screen to get a blanket in the living room. When I walk past the computer again I can't help but smile at her quietness, I turn up the volume again. Maybe she will listen to me and won't scream so much. I can't help but notice her pretty brown hair collecting in natural curls, she will look very pretty resting against the tree, like I have planned. None of their parents thank me for making them look so beautiful when their natural rosy blood is no longer bright and pulsing under their cheeks.

She screams again, "help me!"

I roll my eyes and walk away from the computer. When I fling the door open I hit the ground, and hard, so hard that my back aches and my lungs, also scream, but instead for air not freedom. They roll me onto my stomach and cuff me behind my back.

"You are under arrest for kidnap and seven murder cases." I stare at the vest that says FBI on it. My smile widens, I don't have to keep trying to please my dad even if he is gone I know he was still watching. Now he can't. Then I frown, now she's free, but a smile reforms me, I am free too.

Day 10

The wet streaks are clearly visible on my face as I stare into the three sixty mirrors that surround me. The chill of a light breeze leaves goose bumps on my arms and legs and the ice of the cuffs around my wrists and ankles make my body twist with shivers.

A voice comes over an intercom that makes the small area echo with a gnarly voice. "There's no use, you won't figure out the maze."

"Please." More tears stream down my face and a sob shakes my body.

"You will have twenty four hours and if it's not completed, you will suffer."

A buzz rings my ears and the cuffs open, freeing my limbs and my spirit. My spirit is clearly visible as I watch myself spring out of the chair. I push each mirror until one opens and the dark hallway is inviting me to explore and find freedom.

At the end of the hallway are three more hallways each one a different color; red--a bright waking color, dark blue--almost black, and yellow--a much brighter vibrant color. I pick the one on my left, red. It ends short so I go into the next one, dark blue.

I am led to three more choices, this time doors with the letters; E, I, and O. I start on my right but that one ends after a misleading turn. Then I pick "I" the hallway gets darker the further I go. Complete darkness fills me with despair, if the hallway stays like this then I will never leave.

Heat radiates off of the walls causing me to pull my hand away with a sudden burst shock. Something in me, perhaps that small voice in my head, tells me to go back. Curiosity makes me linger though, but I fight the urge to solve the question of the sudden heat with the more urgent desire I have to find a way out.

I turn back and walk for hours, but is really just a matter of minutes waisted. Then I turn down "E" and I keep walking, no matter how much I want to give up I don't.

I am brought to three more doors but these are more terrifying. One door reads, stabbing, the other door reads asphyxiation, and the last door says shooting. Could they all really be a door to my terrible ending?

My palms start to slicken so I wipe them on my pants. There has to be some logic to these decisions. Stabbing and shooting are both very physical endings when a person can asphyxiate from gas. And asphyxiation is so much longer. It is also a different form, he could have said asphyxiating but he didn't.

I open the door with my breath deep at the bottom of my stomach, leaving no air in my lungs. I start to sprint until I come to the next doors but this time there are four decisions. The doors now read, in order, "THE END IS NEAR" each door having it's own word. I don't want to die, if that's what's implied. I close my eyes and push open the door "THE". When I open my eyes I realize that I'm still alive and I keep walking.

Is this some kind of sick game to him? Why does he put words on the doors? Or why were the hallways painted? My thoughts scramble for answers. Blue, "E", "Asphyxiation", "The" they have nothing in common. I cling to one thought though, one outrageous silly thought: all together the first words spell BEAT.

I stop in my tracks at the sight of more doors. This is a game to him and he wants me to know it. My next choices are "HIDE OR SEEK" all in order, referring to the game. But what word is BEATH, BEATO, or BEATS? Is he trying to tell me that he's beating me? But why would it be plural?

I sit down in front of all the doors and try to think. There has to be a better explanation. I think from the most recent door all the way to the first hall. The halls were so bright except for the hall that brought me here, it was darker than the others. I get up and smile as I realize that I can finish this word game. HIDE is the door I push open, because DEATH is the word he wants me to spell.

The lights are off and it's so dark that if I waved my hand in front of my face I wouldn't be able to see it, not even an outline. The door closes with a heavy click, it's locking me in.

"I gave you a choice and you chose death."

The sound of a machine comes on and I run to the door for help, I try to bang on it but no one is there to help me. I am trapped here, left to die. That's when I feel the heat again but this time it comes from the floor and I start to notice the floor slipping out from underneath me.

The machine makes a shrilling sound and stops, but it stops with a jostle of movement and I fall.

Halloween: Day 11

We prowl the aisle looking for nothing in particular. As we make our way to the candy aisle a man in all black stops at the end of the aisle and peers at us with a grueling smile. I stare at him for a second and smile back. Lila tugs my arm and pulls my attention to the bag of candy that sits on the shelf.

"That man..." I start but I don't finish.

"What man?" Lila looks at the end of the bare aisle and then back at me, confused.

"Never mind."

We wander around the rest of the empty store, howling with laughter as we throw rubber balls at each other. Then I see him again, as he walked out of the outdoors aisle. He turns and stops when he sees us. This time he doesn't smile, he just stares.

"Lila there he is."

But as I focus more on her face I realize that something is wrong. She looks concerned, but not for me, she's looking past me. I say her name but she doesn't respond. Her eyes seem glazed over with fascination.

"Remy, he's coming towards us."

I look past her, and see the man standing still. What does she mean he's coming towards us, and how could she possibly know anyway she's not even looking...

I turn around, shocked to see another man dressed in all black, his hood up and a black cloth draped over his face so all that is visible is his eyes. He does come toward us with a heavy but urgent step. This isn't good.

I don't think I just run. I run and hope that Lila is following me. My lungs burn and I gasp for air, soon I'm reassured that Lila followed me when I hear her gasping as well. I press forward with all my strength but my legs still quiver.

I take a turn and somehow end up in the Halloween aisle with all of the costumes and decorations. We slow down to a walk, every other second glancing behind us, until we stop.

"Who do you think they were?"

My heart accelerates as I think of the answer. "Whoever they were, they aren't safe. We should leave."

Lila nods and we start walking towards the end of the aisle. My heart rate is starting to slow down as I think of home and safety within my grasp. Then the man walks to the edge of the aisle and stands in our way. I give a quick back glance and my heart racks against my ribs as I see no way out. Another man in all black with cloth over his face stands in the way too. We are trapped.

When I turn back around the man is two steps closer and my heart is two beats faster as well. He gives a crooked, demented smile and Lila screams from behind me. I tell myself not to look back but I do anyway. The man with the cloth holds her limp body in her arms with a cloth covering her mouth.

My eyes spring open as I feel a pair of hands around me and then a cloth covers my mouth too. The lights begin to dim and the etched outline of Lila's limp body is the last thing I see before the lights go off.