The Deed Is Done
by Ronald Schulte
part 1
The vampire lurked in the shadows.
He was small, as far as vampires go. But not nearly as small as the tiny ape-man who had just appeared at his side. The vampire resumed his prowl, and the ape-man followed.
“Well? What did you get?” asked the vampire.
“Fun-size Snickers. You said they’d give me two, Jake!”
“Sorry, Charlie. They did last year. If it makes you feel any better, they gave me an Almond Joy,” said Jake with a shrug.
“Eeww!” said Charlie with a giggle.
It was the first time their parents had allowed Charlie to trick-or-treat on his own with Jake, and Charlie was loving every second. Their parents said they could stay out until 8:00. 8:00! Charlie couldn’t even fathom how many houses they could hit in that amount of time.
“Let’s cross here,” said Jake. “Hold my hand.” Charlie rolled his eyes, but he listened. They crossed Alpine, then turned left onto Acorn. They’d barely started down the long straightaway when the chorus of insults began.
“Hey, guys, look, it’s Jake! What took you so long, Jake?”
“Nice costume, Jakey. Didn’t you wear the same one last year?”
“Man, why’d you bring Charlie?”
“Yeah, he’s just going to slow us down!”
Charlie was grinning from ear to ear. The insults didn’t faze him; Charlie worshiped the older kids.
“Shut up, guys, my mom made me bring him,” grumbled Jake.
“Sucks to be you!” laughed a wizard. The wizard tried to high-five a ghost but failed miserably, hand meeting nothing but empty air, the momentum of his swing and miss nearly sending him sprawling face-first onto the pavement. The ghost merely shrugged and turned its attention back toward the larger group.
“Arrr, we best get moving, maties! I hear they’re giving away mad booty down on Cedar. FULL candy bars! We need to hurry and claim our share of plunder before it’s gone!” exclaimed a pirate.
“Let’s cut through the cemetery!” suggested a ninja. Jake’s friends veered off the road and plunged into the dark woods. Jake took a step after them, then stopped and glanced down at his brother. Charlie stared back at him, eyes behind the gorilla mask full of trust.
“C’mon Jake! Forget the little baby!” shouted a voice from the trees. Jake took one more look at his brother, then sprinted off after his friends.
* * *
It took Charlie a few seconds to realize his brother had ditched him. Left him alone, in the dark, without a flashlight. Once his eight-year old mind had processed the facts, though, he was furious. “Pissed” was the word that came to mind; he’d heard Jake use that word when he was mad at Mom and Dad, and it fit this situation just perfectly.
“Jake!” shouted Charlie toward the trees. He could still hear the boys laughing and crashing through the underbrush, but there was no response. He kept shouting until he couldn’t hear them anymore, until his voice was hoarse.
“I hope you trip and break your ankle! Hear that, Jake? I hope you fall in a hole and DIE!” shouted Charlie. There were now tears on his face beneath his gorilla mask.
What to do now? He couldn’t just keep trick-or-treating by himself; someone might call his parents. And he couldn’t just turn around and go home — and tattle! — because then Jake would call him “a little wussy” and make his life miserable.
No, there was only one choice, and Charlie knew it.
With clenched fists, the tiny ape-man stalked off into the forest.
* * *
It was dark under those trees, darker than Charlie could have imagined. This was a bad idea — what his parents called a “poor choice” — and he knew it.
On the other hand, he was pissed.
He headed toward the cemetery as best he could. The going was slow; branches slapped at his face, his arms, his legs. He tripped, scraped his knee, slowed down even more. The slower he went, the more he noticed the noises. Rustling of leaves. Snapping of sticks. Swaying of branches. What was making those noises? Wind? Possum? Murderous stalker? His imagination wasn’t doing him any favors. He plowed on anyway.
Charlie suddenly realized that he’d walked too far. Where was the cemetery? He should have reached it already. He stopped to get his bearings, but there was nothing but trees and darkness, the same in every direction.
Just like that, Charlie was lost.
* * *
He knew what he was supposed to do: “Stay where you are, wait for help, don’t wander around and make it worse.” Great advice. Except Charlie was certain that whoever had thought of that had never been lost in the woods at night.
He was in the process of picking a direction at random when he first noticed the light.
It was a soft glow, hovering maybe twenty feet away, a few feet off the ground. Jake’s heart leapt. A flashlight! Someone had found him!
“Jake!” shouted Charlie, but no one responded. The longer he stared, the more he realized it didn’t look much like a flashlight at all. It looked more like one of the old lanterns at his grandpa’s hunting cabin, or maybe one of the super-dim nightlights his mom used in the upstairs hallway.
And it was moving closer.
Charlie’s initial euphoria faded, replaced slowly by terror.
“Go away!” shouted Charlie. He darted behind a tree, sat down with his back to the trunk, and held his breath.
A few seconds later, a glowing face peeked around the corner.
Charlie tried to scream, but nothing came out. He closed his eyes and cringed against the tree, waiting for the hands that would reach out and grab him, or the teeth that would tear into his flesh. But time passed, and nothing happened.
Within the strange comfort of his mind’s eye, he examined the faint after-image of the glowing face. He gradually noticed two things. First, he realized that the face wasn’t real; it almost reminded him of a cartoon.
Second: The face wasn’t all that scary.
Slowly, Charlie re-opened his eyes.
* * *
A mask. That’s what Charlie saw this time.
It was a mask, painted upon some sort of white canvas. The cheeks were painted orange, the lips bright red, the teeth a brighter white than the canvas itself. Where eyes belonged, two holes were drilled through the canvas. The mask was strapped to the head of a short person in dark robes.
As Charlie continued to stare, he realized that the paint was faintly luminescent; that’s why he’d seen it approaching through the forest. He also noticed for the first time that the figure was carrying a small sack, not unlike the sack Charlie himself was carrying.
A mask? A sack? Charlie almost laughed out loud. It was a kid! A kid out trick-or-treating, just like him! He was probably cutting through to Cedar, same as Charlie.
“Hi,” said Charlie.
The kid didn’t respond, but slowly sat down on the ground, legs crossed, facing Charlie.
“Are you trick-or-treating?” asked Charlie. The kid briefly turned his masked face toward the sack in his lap, then looked back at Charlie and nodded in the affirmative.
“Can you talk?” asked Charlie.
The kid shook his head no, then pointed at the painted mouth on his mask and shrugged.
“Oh, I get it. You’d have to mess up your costume to talk. That’s okay. Hey, can you show me how to get back to Acorn? I got a little lost in here trying to cut over to Cedar.”
The kid considered for a moment, then nodded, pointing in a direction. The kid stood up and started walking. Charlie followed, careful not to step on the kid’s robes.
The trail that they followed was anything but straight. It twisted and curved, and more than once Charlie was convinced that they’d crossed their own tracks. He was starting to wonder if the kid knew his way at all when they finally approached some dim lights. Charlie’s heart leapt; it had to be the road!
“Hey, thanks! I can take it from here!” gushed Charlie. He ran toward the light.
But he’d gone only a few steps when the kid grabbed his arm. Hard. Charlie couldn’t believe the kid’s strength.
“Hey! Let me go!” yelled Charlie.
The kid let go and held up his hands, then gestured toward the ground in front of Charlie. Charlie could just make out a large hole in the ground. If the kid hadn’t grabbed him, Charlie would have fallen right in.
“Geez, thanks,” said Charlie, embarrassed. The kid nodded, then turned again toward the dim light and beckoned Charlie to follow. They continued on as they had before, weaving and swerving, avoiding more of those strange holes in the ground.
As they got closer, the dim light — or lights, as Charlie could now see — grew brighter. Charlie suddenly realized that what they were approaching wasn’t a road at all.
They were approaching more masks.
Painted masks, just like the one his guide was wearing. There were so many that Charlie couldn’t count them all. Fifty at the least. Maybe even a hundred. All of them were painted with simple faces, and all were glowing softly. The cumulative glow illuminated a small clearing in front of Charlie. Dozens of small masked figures scurried about. Some were slightly taller than Charlie; some were slighter shorter. All of them carried sacks. And while a few wore robes like his guide’s robes, most of them seemed to be wearing normal, everyday clothes: jeans, sweatshirts, corduroys, sneakers.
A Halloween party, Charlie guessed. Except the longer he stared, the more he realized it was no ordinary party.
These kids weren’t normal kids.
Some of the kids had four, six, even eight legs.
One kid was slithering around like a snake.
One was floating.
Charlie took a step backwards, prepared to run... and realized he wasn’t scared. Rather, he was curious. He let his guide gently nudge him into the clearing. The masked kids slowly stopped what they were doing, turning to stare at the newcomer whose mask failed to glow. A few of them ran away, frightened. Charlie watched a tiny one — a little girl based on her mask — as she ran to his right, toward the clearing’s edge. She reached a tree, hugged its trunk.
The tree hugged her back, and Charlie’s jaw dropped.
There, in the shadows, not far from Charlie at all, stood not a tree, but a tall creature, perhaps eight feet in height, wearing no clothing and no mask but covered in brown fur. The creature was bipedal, but its feet were hooved. There were horns growing from the side of the creature’s head.
Real, Charlie’s mind blurted. Not a costume.
Copyright © 2019 by Ronald Schulte
