Scary Holiday Tales to Make You Scream (16 page)

No. Brad had been okay as of a few minutes ago. A homicidal computer would surely have been more thorough. Dave approached the cafeteria again, relieved by the prospect of human contact. "Hey, Brad, have you-"

The cafeteria was empty.

Dave swallowed. It was important not to panic. "Computer, what is the location of Bradley Jacobs?"

"Bradley Jacobs is in the gymnasium."

Hah! Getting Brad to fulfill the required exercise regimen was like pulling teeth; damned if he'd voluntarily go to the gym. "Computer, what is the location of Cassidy Chase?"

"Cassidy Chase is in the gymnasium."

"Computer, what is the location of-" Dave bit off the words. The gym. They were all in the gym. Or hydroponics. Or wherever he wasn't.

He wondered if the people on the
Mary Celeste
had disappeared all at once, or if they'd been taken one by one.

His watch beeped, and Dave nearly leapt out of his jumpsuit. He glanced down at his wrist and frowned. He didn't have any appointments this afternoon. At least, none he'd made himself. But the computer had access to the data in his watch; the computer ran the nightly synch; the computer...

All crew meeting. Docking Bay Three.

Dave swallowed. "All crew meeting" normally implied a boring time sink. But he'd happily listen to Greta Hanson and Miles Greenberg snipe at each other, just so long as everyone was all right. Just so long as he'd be all right, himself.

The watch beeped again, and Dave acknowledged the reminder. He headed toward the docking bays. The alternative was running in circles, chasing after crew members who'd always be one step ahead of him.

He stood once more before the Bay Three doors and took a deep breath. He didn't know what "the worst" might be, but he should be prepared for it. "Open the pod bay doors, Hal."

Hal complied.

"Dave!" Marianne called, and the greeting was echoed by the rest of the crew. He was so relieved to see them that it took a moment for the contents of the bay to register.

"What's the matter?" Marianne asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"The Ghost of Christmas Past," Miles chortled.

The docking bay had been cleared of all movable equipment. One of the cafeteria tables had been brought in. Assuming that the labels on the bottles were correct, someone had broken a dozen or so regulations about the quantity of alcohol that could be brought on station and served at one time. Christmas lights were strung up around the pod bay doors.

Most surprising of all, what appeared to be a real pine tree stood in the corner. Another strand of lights adorned its boughs, as well as small bits of metal which, on closer inspection, proved to be nuts and bolts from a repair kit.

Somebody had gone to an awful lot of trouble.

"At least now I know why Hal wouldn't open the pod bay doors," he said.

"I'm swearing everybody to secrecy," Marianne said. "It's important that we programmers have backdoors into the computer, but it'd make some of the higher-ups a little nervous if they knew how easily I can subvert Hal."

"Is Hal just stupid, or are you just charming?" Greta asked.

"I'll never tell," Marianne said. "But I've been teaching Hal to sing. He's got a better voice than I do."

"That's not saying much," Miles said.

Marianne threw a waded-up napkin at him. "Hal, sing something for us." After a moment, the computer launched into a fair rendition of "Deck the Halls."

"Just as long as it's not 'Daisy,'" Dave said.

MEGAN POWELL

lives in suburban Philadelphia with one husband, two cats and 5.5 computers. Her fantasy novel
Vocation
is available from Double Dragon. Her short fiction has appeared in various magazines and anthologies, including
The Eternal Night, Ideomancer, Aoife's Kiss, Femmes de la Brume, Bullet Points and The Blackest Death.
She is the editor of several anthologies as well as the webzines
Fables
and
Shred of Evidence
. She maintains a homepage at www.meganpowell.net.

The combination of a number of European holidays, Halloween is now celebrated internationally on October 31. The current incarnation of the event draws heavily from the Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced "sow-in"), which was celebrated November 1. The Celts believed that the boundaries between the worlds of the living and the dead weakened at this time, permitting the dead to unleash all manner of mischief on mankind. In addition, the presence of spirits permitted the Druids (Celtic priests) to more accurately predict the future.

The Roman Empire conquered most of the Celtic territory by AD 43, and soon after the Roman holidays were mixed with Samhain. Two such celebrations were Feralia, a day of the dead celebrated in late October; the second holiday was in honor of Pomona, Roman goddess of fruit and trees. This is where the tradition of bobbing for apples on Halloween originates. Eventually Pope Boniface IV sought to abolish the holiday altogether by replacing it with All Saints' Day in the seventh century. All Saints' Day is still observed November 1; the Greek Orthodox Church observes it the first Sunday following Pentecost. Despite this, the original holiday is still celebrated-although not in its original form.

It is common in the United States to celebrate Halloween with parties and trick-or-treating. Trick-or-treating is said to be derived from the early All Souls' Day festivities during which poor families would "go a-souling": they would beg for food, which came in the form of "soul cakes" given on the promise that the poor family would pray for the donors' deceased relatives. Today children merely get candy with no strings attached. The current practices in the U.S. vary quite a bit from pre-1950's traditions. It used to be a holiday centered around the community at large, with a general celebration in the town center. Pranks and vandalism are cited as the cause for shifting the focus to children trick-or-treating.

In Latin America and Spain All Souls' Day is celebrated November 2 as the third consecutive day of Hallowmas. In these countries All Souls' Day is the most important part of the holiday as it involves honoring the deceased, often featuring alters to loved ones, graveside picnics where family members are remembered, and so on.

In England the holiday is celebrated November 5, although in a much different fashion. The Protestant Reformation put an end to most "pagan" practices in the country, which resulted in Guy Fawkes' Day replacing Halloween. Fawkes was a notorious traitor and supporter of Catholicism and the anniversary of his execution is marked with bonfires (originally "bone fires" in which symbolic bones of the Pope were burned). There are places in England where children still carry effigies around and ask for "a penny for the guy" on this day. In Canada and Ireland the holiday is celebrated in roughly the same fashion as the U.S.

Halloween trivia: Dan Rather, Michael Landon, Jane Pauley, and John Candy were born on this day while Harry Houdini, Indira Gandhi, and River Phoenix died on Halloween. On Halloween 1517 Martin Luther went public with ninety-five theses, starting the Protestant Reformation; on Halloween 1952 the U.S. began testing atomic bombs on the Marshall Islands. Every year 2.5 billion dollars are spent celebrating Halloween by United States consumers, making it second only to Christmas for commercial holidays in the USA.

-
John Edward Lawson

By Brutal Dreamer

Michael Davis and his sister Kelly were new to the neighborhood. They had arrived at Willow Ridge Drive a week before Halloween and almost immediately noticed that every house on the street had jack-o-lanterns displayed on front porches. Not ordinary jack-o-lanterns, but strange, weird actually. Most were very large, illuminated by a single candle. The orange flickering brightened the hollow eyes, breathing life into them - almost as if they were watching you, each tease of the wind sputtering the wick and giving the pumpkins a malevolent appearance. The harvesting had begun. Halloween was here.

These doll size orange freaks, as Michael called them, were propped on haystacks, ears of corn surrounding them. Each was displayed in the front window of every single house. Everyone on the block had one - all except for Michael and Kelly's house.

Michael hated Halloween.

He thought the orange faces of fire were ugly, serving no purpose except as a dead tradition. It made no sense - just because they lived in a rural county, the old hicks thought it wise to place the hideous things on their front porch. Kelly snickered at Michael's ambiguity towards such a fun-filled holiday. Fall and Halloween were Kelly's favorite time of the year, although she too didn't understand much about the new neighbors and agreed with Michael's discomfort. They were the strangers in their new hometown.

School was closed when they arrived due to the pumpkin and corn harvesting. They had yet to even meet any of their new schoolmates.

They traipsed down the street and noticed how odd it was that there were no children outside playing, and no other activity. Michael kicked at a rock as he strolled down the road. "There's nothing to do around here!" he complained.

"We have to get used to a lot of things, Michael." Kelly said. "Just think, there's no Mall nearby. Face it brother, we are now good ole' fashioned hicks, living in Hicksville USA. Ye-haw, giddy up!" she giggled, poking fun at her brother.

To their surprise, an old hearse clattered by, heavy smoke trailing from its rusted tailpipe. Brittle leaves crumpled as a brisk wind awakened, singing mournfully through the dry trees. Michael stared in silence, glimpsing a black, brass coffin through the back window of the vehicle.

"Creepy!" he said, motioning after the hearse. "Did you see that - there was a freakin' coffin in the hearse!"

"Well, duh." Kelly said smacking his shoulder, crinkling her face. "What else would you expect to find in a hearse?"

"This late at night?" he asked, puzzled. "Where could it be going at this time? They don't hold funerals in the dark." He continued ranting about their eerie new home.

Friday evening approached, and Kelly wanted to continue in her own tradition of carving out a Jack-o-lantern. She tried convincing Michael to help, and to get in the festive spirit himself. She stopped by the local shopping center, a tiny little building with a screen door on the front, which snapped shut as the two entered. Noticing several pumpkins lined up on bales of hay, she grabbed the roundest one and placed it on the counter to pay for it. Michael rolled his dark chestnut eyes and whined, "You are such a kid - you really are. Are you ever going to grow up and stop celebrating this childish holiday?"

"Come on - you did know these candlestick faced pumpkins originally served as beacons for trick-or-treaters, didn't you?" Kelly said, nudging his arm.

"Yeah beacons to ward of Remington himself." His face gleamed over the lighted flame on the countertop of the small shop. "…nothing like living in a house where a demented hick goes berserk and whacks off his family's heads with a pitchfork."

Kelly awoke as the crimson morning sun shone in her window. It was a splendid day for the fall holiday. The air was cool and brisk, the clouds wispy but few, and the golden sunshine cast beautiful reflections onto the cornfields, a rustling of red and yellow and orange leaves scattering in the breeze.

Yawning, she stretched and rolled the covers off, and Kelly went down stairs. She spotted Michael sitting at the dining room table, gazing at the jack-o-lantern.

"Making a new friend?" Kelly teased Michael.

He grimaced and replied, "Hardly. I was just thinking this thing looks so much like your last boyfriend."

Kelly smirked.

"Nah, I think ole' Jack O' is much cuter," she replied, patting the top of the jack-o-lantern's head.

"You're twisted!" Michael giggled.

"You know, we might actually get to meet some of the kids in the neighborhood tonight, being it's Halloween and they'll be dropping by for candy." She smiled, excitement beaming across her face.

"Oh, joy." Michael taunted. "Now that's just what I need - Billy Bob, Joe Bob, and Bobby Joe to stop by. Need I remind you - 'Deliverance'?"

"I wouldn't worry about that, they tended to like men not girls, thank God. Those teeth were really nasty!" Kelly laughed. "Come on, when did you lose your Halloween spirit?"

The twilight approached fast and the white moon was full, a hint of crimson reflecting off the dying sunlight. Dusk descended, casting golden streaks and dousing the slumbering fields.

The neighborhood children were out in droves, wearing crude homemade costumes mimicking scary creatures of the night. Dracula, Frankenstein, ghosts, hobgoblins, and scarecrows. They paraded merrily down the block from house to house. They giggled and shrilled, marching cheerily to the house across the street. "Trick-or-Treat" the children squealed in unison. The woman put candy in each bucket and bag. The joyful kids approached their own house, and Michael peered through the glass pane at the top of the door as he reached his hand into the enormous bowl of candy.

A woman from across the street darted across the road and grabbed the first child in the line by the arm, yanking him off the porch. "Andrew - you know we never go near the old Remington House," she spat, glaring back at the home in disgust.

"What the hell is her problem?" Michael asked Kelly. "What do we have, cooties?"

"Maybe it's a safeguard since they don't know us. You know - afraid we'll put razor-blades in candy or glass slivers in their caramel apples. Maybe your face scared them off." Kelly said.

"More like Jack O's face did that," he retorted. "That thing is one ugly orange freak."

Kelly opened up the door and walked outside. The giggles of the trick-or-treaters were fading, the night growing quiet. It was eerie, and she shivered.

"Don't listen to him Jackie baby." Kelly said fondly, before she extinguished the candle.

Kelly looked at Michael, "You don't think the story about this house is true, do you?"