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Tales to Chill the Heart - Halloween: Trick or Treat!

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Tales to Chill the Heart Halloween: Trick or Treat! Mr.Dean was a crooked man with a crooked mind. His face was slightly disfigured, a scar running down the length of his left cheek. His hair (or lack there of), was white and wispy. All day, he sat at his window, gazing out at the world, and despising anyone with a smile on their face. In his world, no-one would ever have the right to be happy. He was a miserable man with no life. On Halloween night, Mr.Dean was sitting at his kitchen table with a frown on his face. He hated Halloween. The way the children's faces gleamed with delight gave shivers up his spine. The mere fact that they could be happy made him cringe. This year was to be different. Mr.Dean had a plan. No longer would the children's faces gleam with delight. No longer would they smile as they skipped along the pavements. ...read more.


The air was musty and smelt like stale stew. Smoke puffed out of chimneys making the atmosphere dense and smoggy. It couldn't be a better night for Halloween. Inside, the children were getting ready. Little masked faces running up and down the stairs making sure their outfits were perfect. Finally their parents got them out of the house giving them some peace and quiet at last. Once they were outside the children jumped about in the ever-growing piles of leaves. Although the night air was crisp and chilly their hearts were warm and they were excited. They began their journeys, stopping off at each house in turn and slowly increasing the level of sweets in their containers. Finally, they came to the end of the street, at which Mr.Dean's house stood. His house wasn't quite visible from the street and you had to walk up the long drive to get to it. ...read more.


They held their breath. The door opened. 'CHARGE!' screamed one of the children. They bombarded the doorway, screaming and chanting. 'Trick or treat! Trick or treat!' over and over. The door slammed behind them. The children spun around and in their shock they began to charge again. Their plastic knives held high in the air. Their faces filled with terror. They could not stop. They could not stop. Mr.Dean sat at his window watching the villagers pass by. His face was not one of spite but one of sorrow. Tears filled his eyes and they began to trickle down his cheeks. 'I didn't mean for this to happen' he sobbed. 'It's all my fault'. He started to cry uncontrollably. He couldn't stop. He had never cried before in his life and now he just couldn't stop. Outside in his garden lay a grave with these words written upon it; 'Mrs.Dean, a beloved wife and mother, brutally murdered on a Halloween night. She will always be remembered.' ...read more.

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