Halloween Part 3!

Hello!  How was your weekend?

 As we creep closer to Halloween I'm moving forward with sharing snippets of my Halloween short stories. As I mentioned before. ALL of my short stories are FREE and can be downloaded here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/281956

For today's part 3 post, here is a snippet of THE RABBIT HOLE. Happy Reading!

“Where did you get these tickets?” I ask Cam. They’re printed on the cheapest of cheap sheets of paper. I can see my fingers’ silhouettes through the flimsy material.

“Some clown on a street corner handed them to me. He said, ‘this is the best haunted house around,’” he replies, stuffing his shoulder length brown hair into a ponytail. “It sounds cool—what else do we have to do tonight?”

He’s right, it’s Halloween night, and there is nothing to do. There’s no way we’ll be caught going to a dumb costume party since we passed the age of trick or treating years ago. Plus, we’re already here. Lanterns dressed as scarecrows hang on either side of the cave entrance. The heads glow bright with fire dancing behind their hollowed eyes and gaping mouths. Every few seconds the lifelike effigies twitch like a body being electrocuted.

We drove miles to find this place. For a while, I thought Cam had the wrong directions. He’s good for that: tell you to go left when you should’ve continued straight, mix the numbers up of an address. And I doubt he could tell you if he was facing north or south, even with a compass in his grasp. As I was about to give up—egging a house would have been funnier than riding through Hickville—we spotted the sign for this place.

“Good evening.” Cam and I jump as a creepy-looking butler guy drags his hunched over frame from the depths of the cavern. “Welcome to the Rabbit Hole, we’re so pleased to have you.” His words remind me of the way Alfred Hitchcock used to speak. The slithery tone sends the hairs on the back of my neck to attention. Cam must be weirded out too because he takes a step back. This is going to be great. I love when they hire real actors for these gigs. “Gentlemen, if you’re ready, your driver awaits.” Creepy guy passes us each a plastic flashlight with pumpkin cutouts molded to the lights. When mine flickers to life, a toothless, smiling jack-o-lantern, bobs about the dark walls.

“Oh, here do you need these? How much does this cost?” My voice bounces off the dark wall of the cave, with as much excitement ringing in it as there is adrenaline zipping through my veins.

 Reaching out to offer the thin tickets to the butler, he says, “Keep them, we will make our collection at the end of the course.” As he speaks, a van pulls up and four teenagers pop out of the back. “Ah, more souls,” breathes creepy guy. “Boys, if you will kindly move along, the ferry will transport you to your destination.

“You ready, Matt?” asks Cam, with a hard swat to my back. He fist bumps the air and flicks his lantern to life too.

“Hell yeah!” I whoop and stuff the tickets into my pocket.

“Boys,” the butler calls. His words coil around us like a boa constrictor. “This is a very old cave. It’s been said one with a keen eye can find relics like gold coins still lying around. And mind the walls, they do move at times.”

The new group of teens draws creepy guy’s attention back to the mouth of the cave, and Cam and I edge our way into the pitch black tunnel. After a few feet, the ground seems to slope downwards. Our stupid flashlights do little to help us see.

“Did you hear that?” whispers Cam. His shoulder bumps mine and we stop walking. “I think I heard someone crying.”

“Nope. It was probably the group behind us. We weren’t the only car out there. Maybe someone in front of us,” I respond and start walking again.

“I’m freaking myself out and we haven’t made it to the house yet,” Cam chuckles and catches up to me. We trek along for a while in the dark. Every once in a while fake bats fly overhead. Their glowing red eyes appear to be searching the night for a way out.

“Is it me or is it getting hotter?” I say as I remove my jacket and tie it around my waist. We’re still on a downward descent, and I swear with each step it’s getting warmer.

“I guess,” Cam says. His sight is focused on something in the distance. “I think I see one of those gold coins old dude was talking about.” His weak light dances across a small gold speck on the left. He’s right. Bending, he smacks the ground with the back end of his flashlight to release the coin from the ground. The light from the cheap gadget flickers and with the last blow fades away. “It’s cold,” he claims and flips it back and forth before tossing it to me. I almost miss it as the shiny metal vanishes in the darkness around us. But when the heavy coin hits me in the chest with a low thud, I grasp it before it tumbles to the ground.

“You think it’s real?” I doubt my own question, yet still try to examine the coin with the one light we have left.

“No way. I bet it’s chocolate or something on the inside,” Cam states and yanks the coin from me.

“How about you bite it and see?” I joke.

Cam reaches out and tugs on my elbow and I jerk away. “Stop touching me and let’s go,” I urge.

“I didn’t touch you,” he snaps.

“Okay, whatever. I felt you.” I go to walk away and he grips my arm again. “Let go.”

“Matt, it’s not me.” Whipping around, my arm breaks the hold only to spot something moving back into the jagged wall of the cave.

“Did you see that?” the words tumble from my lips like jars falling from a shelf in an earthquake.

“Matt, what are you talking about? First I’m touching you and now you’re seeing things,” Cam laughs. The sound bounces off the walls before it cuts off in almost a strangulated gasp. “I felt it, too,” he yelps and jumps. Around us, arms and legs begin to emerge, some from the walls, and others the ground. I dare not look up to see if they’re looming over us too. A rotten, sulfur, old-trash, dead vermin scent fills the air and we both gag. The robotic hands reach for us, trying to haul us towards the wall.

“Come on,” I holler. Now I hear it. Cries ring, haunting us, chasing us, and we race forward, seeking an exit.

With ease I zip pass Cam. In school, Cam is always picked last in gym, because he becomes winded too fast. I blame it on the fact that he’d rather sit and play a video game than go out and shoot hoops.

“Matt, stop,” Cam calls from behind me. “I think we’re in the clear,” he states between gasping for air. I slow and try not to laugh. Are we a bunch of babies? We let ourselves get spooked by nothing more than props.

Screams echo behind us. We both bolt upright and edge closer together. “I bet it’s another group.” Why I say this out loud, to calm me or Cam, I have no clue. Sweat drops down my face and I wipe my jacket across my forehead. The heat is still rising. After a few steps, Cam stops and picks at something in the wall. It’s another gold coin. Repeating his actions from last time, he rams his broken flashlight into the rock wall until the coin falls into his hand. More stone falls and what looks like pale fingers wiggle their way through the hole from where the coin has vacated. I don’t know why but I reach out to touch them.

“What are you doing?” whispers Cam in my ear. He’s closer than I thought, and just as the lifelike, ice-cold fingers stroke mine, I jump back.

“I don’t know,” I stammer and rub my hand on my jeans.

“They’re coming again,” Cam says in an eerie voice. I don’t have a chance to question who ‘they’ are as the rotting smell wafts past my nose. Something brushes my foot and we take off running again.

Exit to ferry flashes in a neon green light as we round the next bend. My nose, lips and throat burns from the intense heat. Cam again is a few feet behind me. I catch a glimpse of the moon beckoning me from the depths of the cave. I don’t hear Cam’s footsteps anymore so I spin, flashing my dim light back into the cave. “Matt, I found another gold coin,” says my friend from the darkness. “That smell came back and I saw those dead body parts again,” he states with a smirk and drops the coin into his pocket. He strolls towards the opening and I notice he has ditched his flashlight. Mine still works so I slip it into my pocket and follow him out. “I’m gonna sell these coins first thing tomorrow,” he declares and pats his leg.

“No, you’re not. I’m telling you they’re fake,” I say and laugh.

A corn-stalk archway lined with a string of small lit plastic jack-o-lanterns comes into view. Please, wait for the next ferry reads the half hanging lopsided sign over the arch. I need to duck to keep from smacking my head on the jagged end of the dangling sign. Even though we are outside, it’s not any cooler. The sounds of a horse and carriage draw my attention from the sweat running down my back to the muddy road before us. Two white horses pulling a flatbed with bales of hay covering it come to a stop.

“Evening, guys,” giggles a small brunette from the cab. She’s dressed in a pair if blood-red heels, black fishnet tights, and a red-leather mini-dress fairy costume, showing ample cleavage and wings sprouting out her back. “Wipe the drool from your mouths, boys. Pay the footman and hop aboard,” she purrs, while adding another coat of her glossy crimson lipstick. Damn, I think the temperature just went up a few degrees.

When we don’t move, the fairy slips her shades down the bridge of her nose and glares at us. She must be wearing red contacts too. Cam and I push our way to the back of the cart.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy who substituted when the English teacher was out,” says Cam as we come to a stop in front of the steps.

“I think so.”

“Mr. Knox, right? Were you our substitute teacher a few weeks ago?” Cam questions. The man dressed in a leprechaun outfit doesn’t respond, but instead, shoves an empty pot in our direction.

“How much?” I say and pull my wallet out.

“To access the hayride, three gold coins will have you on your way,” he says with a wicked smile, flashing all of his teeth.

“Aw, man. I wanted to keep these,” pouts Cam as he digs the props from his pocket.

“I told you so,” I say and elbow him in the side before jumping into a huge pile of spilled hay on the wagon. As Cam joins me, I lean forward and say, “Did you see his teeth? They all have pointed ends.”

 “Yeah, they’re caps or something. They didn’t look like that in class.”

“I’m not sure if he is the same guy.”

“Of course he is,” counters Cam. “He’s acting. Just like hot chick up there.” His head bobs in the direction of our fairy. I turn and find her glaring at us.

“While riding the hayride, please keep hands and feet inside of the carriage throughout the voyage. I’d hate for you to lose a limb…on my watch.” With that, she flicks the reins and the horses jerk the buggy forward. I glance back to see if the leprechaun joined us, but he’s gone.

After a few feet, we make a sharp right and slip between a path cut out in the middle of a cornfield. Our ride races between the dried stalks. The crops tower over us. From time to time, I catch a glimpse of the moon above us. I grasp at the other bales to hold me upright.

“This hay is making me itch,” whines Cam, as he rakes his blunt nubs he calls nails over his arms. I go to speak when I spot what looks like a person running parallel to the wagon, only meters away. “Do you see that,” my hand juts out pointing at the figure in the stalks. By the time Cam twists to look, it’s gone.

“No, what?”

“Nice  night for a ride wouldn’t ya’ say?” booms a voice from next to me. My heart leaps into my throat and I fall into Cam as I spin to see where that voice came from.

“What the hell?” stammers Cam, as he begins to push me off of him, only stopping when he notices who has somehow joined us on the cart. Before us sits a man in a genie costume. His bottle rests still on his knee as if we aren’t being jostled across this land like Jello strapped to a rollercoaster.

The genie leans forward, pale blue lips grinning at us and says, “If you had one wish tonight, what would it be?” As he speaks, the buggy jerks right, and we skid to a stop.

My attention shifts from the genie to what has brought the ride to a halt. The horses neigh, jumping about, and our driver stands, yelling a foreign dialect. Orange flames sprout from the ground licking at the dried stalks. They’ve formed a sweltering barrier, blocking our entry to this turn on the maze.

“One wish—what would it be?” murmurs the genie. His sight is still trained on us. In the new light, his lips appear to have deepened to a dark purple. Being burned to death doesn’t seem to be a concern of his. Our driver yanks at the reins pulling, trying to redirect the horses. “I could make this go away, if you like,” he states and spreads his arms wide. The fire reacts to his movement and stretches. The walls on three sides of us now glow in bright orange flames.

Before Cam or I can respond to the genie, the fairy regains control of her beasts, and we begin to shift backwards. A few steps away from the dead end, we take off racing down another path.

“Maybe I can be of help later,” claims the genie as he stands and jumps from the speeding carriage, disappearing into the crops. My friend’s wide-eyed appearance can only mirror my own. We take a quick left and hit a bump, losing a bale of hay. Every attempt I make to grab something to keep me from flying off the flatbed slips through my fingers as we zip down the narrow lane.

“Do you think she knows where she’s going,” says Cam as we finally give up and hold each other to remain on the ride.

“She must. It’s all a part of the act,” I say, but when we make another sharp turn, I question if the fairy still has control of the buggy.

“Whoa, there!” yells our driver. We’ve made a left here and right there and now the cart slows. She gives another command, stands and pulls hard to stop the horses. Curiosity tugs at me and as we roll to a halt, I get on my knees and peer over the front of the cart to see why we’ve stopped this time. Sweat drips from my forehead blurring my sight and I reach for my jacket to wipe my face. My hand searches for a moment or two, before I realize it must have become a victim of our fast ride. With the inside of my shirt, I scrub my face clean and finally spot why we are no longer moving.

Paul Bunyan, or at least an actor dressed as him and his blue ox stand in the path.

“Clear the way,” calls the fairy. Her red heel stamps the floor boards and she places her hands on her hips. In response, Bunyan lifts his axe, hoisting it over his head, and heaves it in our direction. Our driver lets out a loud scream and dives to the floor. As the axe spins like a pinwheel towards us, Cam and I spring from the buggy. A loud thud echoes in the darkness as the axe’s blade wedges itself into the wood from where Cam and I just vacated.

“Get back on the cart,” yells the fairy. Her voice sends chills up my spine. We ignore her and hide behind the hitch. Paul’s heavy footsteps seem to make the ground shake as he storms towards us. “Get back on,” calls a faded voice in my ears.

“What do we do?” questions Cam. The lumberjack yanks his axe from the flatbed and stares at us. Only feet away from us, he lifts the weapon again.

“Climb under the cart!” I scream as the blade whirls passed us. We both cringe when a huge hand swipes the air inches away from where we sit. “Go that way,” I point towards the left front wheel. Mud soaks my jeans and sticks to my hands as we crawl. When we make it to the front of the cart Cam starts to slide out when the ox sticks its painted blue nose in his way. It grunts and nips at Cam.

“Back up, back up, back up!” he wails. I do but stop when something grabs my leg. A whimper leaves my lips as I’m hauled from under the cart. Cam’s paled face vanishes and I fight to be free of Paul Bunyan’s grasp.

“Get on the damn cart,” yells that voice again.

My world spins. Movement sounds behind me as I’m pull upright to face the lumberjack.

“Hurry,” calls a female’s voice.

A whip cracks. My stomach turns when Paul Bunyan leans closer. His warm breath slams into me like a sack filled with rocks. I feel the cart against my back shake and start to ease forward. From behind, someone tugs at my shirt.

“Go!” hollers Cam.

On command, the carriage begins to move and a tug-a-war commences. Each man yanks on my tee-shirt. The cheap material starts to tear. I’m not sure what’s louder—my heart banging in my ears or the fabric shredding with each jerk.

My heart stops when Cam lets go. For an instant, I believe they will leave me, but, instead, Cam places his hands under my arms and wrenches me away from Paul Bunyan. We tumble backwards into the itchy hay, both breathing heavily as the cart dashes down the path, away from our attacker.

“That can’t be a part of the attraction. Can it?” Cam breathes and throws his arm over his face. “It was too real. Man, I’m shaking.”

“No kidding.” Neither of us moves until the ride slows again. Like puppets, we both shoot up, as if a puppeteer has ordered us to life. “Now what?” I question. The stars have disappeared in the wake of the new light. Stretching out before us, sits a large house.

“End of the ride, fellas,” states the fairy.

Cam and I stare at each other, and then the huge mansion. Strobe lights flicker through some of the windows, and from time to time figures dash from one room to another. Screams, chainsaws, cackling, and loud music fill the air. Our driver throws us an impatient glare and Cam and I slide off the buggy. Without any answers as to why a lumberjack attacked us, the cart whips around and speeds off into the night.

“I’m not sure I really wanna go in there,” whispers Cam.

I’m thinking the same thing. How the hell did I let him talk me into this?

“Come now, boys, the fun has just started.” The deep voice makes us jump. As we turn, we find the genie standing next to us. “There’re two ways out of the house,” he says and begins to push us forward. “Give the command and I can release you from your entombment. Or, find the exit. Your choice.”

His words fade away as flames of light blast out of the small holes in the ground leading up the aisle to the doorway.

“Where did he go?” Cam says and spins like a dog chasing its tail.

“I don’t know, man, but let’s just get this over with.”

I’m not sure, but I think the siding of the house is pulsating, and damn-it it’s only gotten hotter. As we approach the front steps, the door swings open. At first, flashing lights and smoke fill the opening. When we near the door a hunched dark shadow drifts through the smoke toward us.

“Ah, there you are,” exclaims the creepy butler from the cave. “I hear we almost lost you in the maze. It would’ve been such a shame.” His old wrinkled hands clasp, and his crooked form leaps for joy. “So few of our guests make it this far. That group behind you‒” he shakes his head and heaves a heavy sigh. “Well, enough of the gloomy news. Please enter.” Cam and I glance at each other. My best friend is sweating as much as I am. His hair has fallen from the ponytail and is matted to his scalp. Dressing up for a costume party doesn’t sound so bad anymore.

If we were little boys, I think at this moment, holding hands would be acceptable. Instead, we fist bump, square our shoulders, and step forward.

Are you enjoying THE RABBIT HOLE? Download my short story collect to to finish Matt and Cam's adventure.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/281956