THE CELEBRATION

By Jean Bush

It was a shifting night of eyes and things;

Of smokey fires and spells to sing.

Where witches dance and fairies prance

And night takes flight upon its wings.

October wind, chilled too soon,

Blows beneath the misty moon.

Drifting clouds like ragged shrouds

Enhance the coming gloom.

Within the woods a cat-like tread;

A hung still moment of nameless dread.

A flash of light then blackest night,

And there stood they, the walking dead.

A crackling fire they quick surround

And dance a dance of leaps and bounds.

Black hair flying, voices crying,

The dancers from the graveyard mounds.

The moon casts forth a deathlike sheen

On these creatures from a madman’s dream.

But to childhood’s ghosts they drink a toast,

And celebrate this Halloween.

THE WITCHING HOUR

By Jean Bush

Shadow, shadow on the wall;

Merry monsters in the hall.

Ghostly goblins gently peek

At little children faking sleep.

The night is strange as low it roams

Around the snugly lighted homes.

The young ones feel its magic power.

The clock has struck the children’s hour!

Grabbing costumes from the wall,

Then down the stairs and past the hall

To children’s promised midnight feast

As grownups fall for trick or treat.

Grinning faces laughing merry;

Crouching shadows dark and scary.

Late this night there are no dreams

For this night’s name is HALLOWEEN!

HANK’S NIGHT TRIP TO HELL OR HOW HE STOPPED SCREAMING AND LEARNED TO RUN

By that talented but crazy gang at Alien-Earth.org

           

        It was a dark and stormy night and Hank was driving down a lonely stretch of road. It was the middle of night and though he had driven this road many times before something just didn't seem quite right. It was a strange feeling, but he just shrugged it off. The visibility was terrible. Not only was there driving rain, but there was a dense fog as well. Suddenly he...

... had a strange craving for an orange smoothie, but all that was in the car was a cooler full of pints of blood that he was transporting to the hospital. As he rounded a blind curve he saw an overturned truck. Skidding to a stop, he pulled to the side of the road. Despite the driving rain, the blinking back lights of the truck told him the accident just happened. Opening the door, he gingerly made his way to the cab of the truck, and peered inside. What he saw made him.....

...cringe in disgust and horror. There before him laid a man with a gaping hole in his stomach with cockroaches crawling out of it. He noticed a strange marking on the man's forehead. Upon closer examination...

recognized it to be the symbol from The Alan Parson's Project album cover Eye in the Sky. He couldn't remember the exact name for the ancient symbol although he was fairly certain it was Egyptian. Instinctively knew it inappropriate for the grisly sight before him and before the rising bile reached his throat he grabbed his cell and began running back to his car. Fuck, only 1 bar available.

As he attempted to dial 911 a bolt of lightning struck his car. The blast from the explosion lifted him off his feet throwing him to the shoulder of the road and sent him rolling down the soggy embankment. It was hen his body finally rested he discovered he blinded by the flash and realized everything was silent...he couldn't even hear the rain that had suddenly become painfully torrential. "That's not rain" he thought to himself, "its hail"

Frantic, he kept punching 922 instead of 911.

"Damn it," he said, "what the fuck is wrong with me! Guy died in an accident, the marks on his head were from banging it on the steering wheel!"

He laid on his back, letting the hail pound the hell out of him. Finally it stopped. He slowly sat up, feeling for broken bones. As he crawled out of the ditch, feeling dismay at losing all those blood pints and not getting paid for them, a car pulled over, the driver honking the horn.

"Hey buddy, you OK?"

Dear God, it was a woman. Finally something he could deal with. He limped to her car as she rolled down the window and...

"Are you alright?" Her attempt at concern didn't coincide with the eerie look of her face and the bright red lipstick haphazardly applied. Maybe he was traumatized and his vision was still skewed from the lightning blast or possibly a concussion. Maybe she wasn't really concerned at all.

"What? I can't hear you." he said as he slowed his pace.

He read her lips as she asked again "Are you alright?" This time he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be large canine incisors.
"What the hell?" he thought to himself, "This is surreal.  I'm living a shitty B movie." Then he saw her car door open and... and a foot clad in a spike high heel shoe appeared. That foot was attached to a long, shapely fishnet clad leg.

She got out of the car and said again, "Are you alright?"

Snapping out of his reverie at this strange, but hauntingly beautiful woman, he managed to say, "I think I'm ok, but I really need a ride."

"This truck crashed. I think the driver's dead, murdered."

Stepping closer to him, her long, black hair swirling around her shoulders, her breasts straining at the satin halter-top, she smiled.

Hank thought that was the reddest lipstick he had ever seen. As she approached him, her little pointy teeth showed through the smeared lips. That WAS lipstick, wasn't it??

Smiling invitingly, she said softly:

"It's been a rough night."

Gripping his shoulders, she leaned toward him when suddenly they heard a strange shrieking from the truck's trailer.

Startled both Hank and lipstick woman turned their heads towards the overturned truck.  "Damn" said the lipstick woman. Without further hesitation Hank started running back toward the wreck.

The mysterious woman seemed to be beside herself as if she were thoroughly enjoying the torturous cries emitting from the wreckage. Hank turned around and yelled for her to help him and watched her rapid, unnatural approach as though she was moving without the use of her legs...levitating even. "I've got to keep a clear head" he said to himself as once again he found this entire episode surpassing the surreal of earlier.

She was immediately by his side and didn't hesitate to throw off the wreckage as if she were the Terminator. Her lack of emotion upon seeing the carnage of what was inside the trailer should have surprised Hank, but he found this whole night growing stranger and stranger.  Wrenching open the double doors, a horrific site greeted their stunned eyes:

Bodies. Bodies of babies and children, torn from limb to limb covered in blood. The few that were crying and screaming were surrounded by strange mewling sounds.   OMG!  Kittens!  Dozens of tiny, yowling kittens.   Hank staggered back as the little creatures flew out of the truck, hissing and spitting, fur on end.

As they ran past the hauntingly beautiful woman and into the strange dark, she lifted her fishnet clad leg and gently brought her black spiked heel down on one of them.  The little kitten squirmed and struggled as she pressed it firmly to the ground.

“Stop that,” he cried, hurrying toward her.   She smiled and pressed harder.  

Hank stood in front of her, fists curled at his side.  He’d never struck a woman before but wondered if she’d even feel it.   The kitten, crying pitifully, stopped struggling and lay panting under her lovely but cruel foot.   Suddenly she shrugged and stepped away.  The kitten didn’t move.   Hank bent down and scooped the shivering little ball of fur into his hand.   Still panting, the kitten lay still, eyes closed.   

As he stroked and calmed it, the kitten opened its bright green eyes and stared at him.  All at once, it reared back, opened its jaws and bit down on his hand, sucking voraciously.   Yelping, Hank tried to pull the kitten off but it clung to his bleeding flesh, biting and sucking.  Feeling the blood draining from his hand he grabbed the creature by its head and ripped, pulling skin and blood with it.  He flung it to the ground where it hissed at him and ran off into the woods.

The smiling beautiful woman slunk over and offered to kiss it all better.   He jerked his hand away from her as she reached for him when suddenly a sudden movement from the cab made them jerk around.....

Staring at the cab, they watched as the driver’s side door began to open. How could this be? The driver was dead, wasn't he? They began to hear a snarling, unearthly sound as what appeared to be hand pushing the door open.


A grotesque, scaly creature crawled out, appearing half human and half reptile, with blood dripping from its fangs and holding the driver's head in its other claw-hand. Suddenly it let out a loud bellow and growled in a gravelly voice, "Ah, been holding that in for the last few miles."
Slapping his forehead, Hank immediately understood the dangers of picking up hitchhikers. Backing away, they watched the horror shamble toward them.
Cracking open the driver's skull, the creature sucked the brains in great slurping gulps.

Wiping its mouth and dropping the head to shatter on the street, it said.......

..."Now my children, grab that human man and bring him to the blood ritual. Our master awaits us for this is the night of the celestial harmonic awakening."

Hank tried to run but...
Something caught his eye and reached out to touch the screen before him....

He looked at his hands and he was in black and white.....

OMG..... I'm a character in a fricken movie!

He turned back toward the carnage and to his utter disbelief found himself falling into a faint.  Falling onto the road, he turned on his back and looked up, but saw only utter darkness.

Hank suddenly felt something cold and wet on his face. Someone had thrown a glass of water in his face and woke him up. He felt tremendous relief because it had all been a horrible and strange nightmare.

But just as the cobwebs were clearing from his head, his stomach tied up in knots and the terror returned as he realized that he was bound to an altar. He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. He looked up and saw...

Alan Parsons! Older and bearded but nonetheless, it was him alright and he was wearing a necklace with that eye symbol from his album which was also burned into the forehead of the dead? truck driver. He couldn't move, not a muscle but his mind was racing and among other things thought it was sleep paralysis. Please dear god, let it be...

a real nightmare! Let me just wake up in my own bed. God, what did I do to deserve this shit???

"Alan," he pleaded, "I used to have all your albums. I love your work, Man, just get me out of this."

Alan just pulled his hood over his face and stood silently back.

No answer from the All fucking Mighty, either, however, a rustle of clothing caught his ear. Looking over, he was surrounded by more cloaked and hooded figures. The one closest to him had the fetid smell of death.

Raising their arms, the figures began to chant..........

"Wake up, wake up, wake up" he kept repeating to himself. He'd once read that you could talk to yourself in the dreamscape and even force yourself to awaken. Why was it so difficult to scream? If he could just scream.... then whoosh!! His breath was knocked out of him and then he heard the low purring of his cat Willy. He was awake!! He must be! There wasn't a single morning in 5 years that Willy had not awakened him by pouncing on his chest and purring in his ear.

It was just a dream - a dream within a dream. Relieved and in dire need of reality Hank jumped out of bed grabbing Willy in the process and headed for the kitchen. He never needed a pot of coffee like he did this morning. After filling up Willy's bowl he determined a quick shower was in order. Anything to get rid of the clammy feeling and help shake off the nightmare. Using up the time while the coffee brewed was a great idea. He didn't want to ponder too long or too much on that damn weird dream.

Calm restored and a jolt of caffeine energy provided adequate stimulus to get dressed and out of house. He had a deadline to meet and today, work would be a blessing.

Heading out the door and snatching his keys from the little catch-all table he once again acknowledged normalcy and gave a little sigh of relief. "Goddamn nightmares!" he thought and then chuckled out loud.

Driving down the familiar road with music blasting from his favorite rock station felt fucking fantastic. The song was cut short the music was interrupted for an emergency weather bulletin - Severe thunderstorm with dangerous lightning - limited visibility due to an unnatural fast moving fog bank - advising the listening audience to take shelter. Being only a few miles from the office Hank decided to disregard the warning, when suddenly, the sky darkened and it started to rain. He turned on the windshield wipers but to no avail. Apparently, he had driven directly into the storm. The visibility was terrible. Not only was there driving rain, but there was a dense fog as well. Suddenly he....