#Spooktober2020 Day 22: Cursed

“Smile,” you said. “People will wonder what you’re up to.”

So I smiled. I couldn’t not. Your voice cursed my very bones with an alien desire to make you happy. If you wanted my smile, you could have it. Though inside I seethed with fury.

You never thought to wonder what I was up to, gazing at me in the closet where you had locked me up. Never read the formulas and designs I wrote on the walls. Planning your fall.

Through my smile, I recited my own curse. For your silence.

For your silence, I traded my hated smile.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 21: Vow

‘Til death do us part. That was the vow.

I knew that meant, since I died, that you should be free of me. Somehow, I thought you would be happy to see me. That I dug out. Yet as I shambled up our driveway, grave dirt trailing off my heels, I felt unreasoning rage.

Rage at the unfamiliar car in the garage.

Rage at your silhouette through the window, wrapped around someone else.

Rage that my funeral had just happened this morning.

Once I had vowed love. Now, as I opened the front door with rotting hands, I vowed revenge.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 20: Skeleton Key

No one would get in.

I turned the skeleton key in the lock of my own door before pulling it closed behind me. The key went into my pocket, the only one left that could unlock this door, as I had melted the original down to a lump of brass.

No one could get in.

I sat in the corner of the windowless room, arms crossed over my drawn up knees. Watching the door. This was my life now. To keep me safe.

I jumped when the doorknob rattled. Held my breath as it turned. Turned.

And clicked open.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 19: Talking Board

“G-O-O-G…”

“Dude, what?” My roommate sat across the talking board from me, her hands next to mine on the pointer.

“That’s what it says,” I replied.

She had demanded I clean the microwave. When I pointed out I barely used it and already took care of our collective trash, I told her she should do it. She said she didn’t know how.

I suggested breaking out my Ouija board.

Twitching my fingers on the pointer, I spelled out the last few letters. “…L-E-I-T.”

“‘Google it?'” said my roommate. She flipped the Ouija board up in my face and stomped off.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 18: Summon

When I appeared in your bedroom, you squinted up at me from where you crouched in front of a summoning circle.

“Woah,” you said. “I just had questions. I didn’t need a whole ghoul!”

I raised an eyebrow at the wax candles dripping on the carpet. “You better tell me what you want.”

Your face flushed bright red. “I… need dating advice.”

“From a ghoul?” I rolled my eyes. “What, you wanna date a ghost?”

Now you smirked. “A demon, actually.”

I came out of the other side of the eyeroll curious. “In that case, lemme give you some pointers…”


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#Spooktober2020 Day 17: Fog

My early morning commute plunged me into thick fog along a stretch of highway known for twists and turns. Traffic around me didn’t slow. When I tapped my brakes, cars began flowing past, honking. I sped back up.

Bent over the steering wheel to see, I scanned the gray for my exit ramp. Ahead, several brake lights lit up red all at once. Clustered together like a multi-eyed monster, all eyes on me.

I yanked my steering wheel left, barely squeezing by a five-car pile-up. The ramp appeared just on the other side.

They were too close together. I mist.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 16: Demonic

I heard their cries about me from the town square as I threw my belongings together in a sack.

“She laughs too loud.”

“Reads so much.”

“She’s way too smart.”

“Must be demonic possession.”

Soon it would be the torches and the pitchforks. Once they worked themselves into a frenzy, there’d be no stopping them. A bag of rocks tied to my feet in the river to see if I floated. Or just a good old burning.

The way they did my mom.

I slipped out the back window and vanished into the woods. Better luck in the next town.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 11: Wraith

I had felt the touch of the wraith for some time when I went to visit a psychic.

“When do I die?” I asked her.

The woman – I had forgotten her name already – gave me a funny look.

“Just, y’know, do your little crystal ball thing and tell me.” I waved my fingers around for effect. “Hurry up!”

Pursing her lips, the psychic said. “I don’t need a crystal ball to know your fate.”

“You don’t?”

She pointed at a stack of newspapers next to the door, bound up for recycling. “I just read your obituary. You died last week.”


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#Spooktober2020 Day 10: Resurrectionist

I snatched your body from the jaws of death when I exhumed you from the dirt. Your soul, though, I’m not so sure of.

You returned to consciousness screaming. “Let me go baaaaaack!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have resurrected you in the graveyard. “Shhh!”

Scrabbling across your own grave dirt, you crawled toward your open coffin, still half sunk into your grave.

I got there first and slapped the coffin lid shut. “Nope! You’ve still got that big report to finish before Monday. Come on!”

I hauled you crying back to the waiting carpool. The company already had your soul anyway.


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#Spooktober2020 Day 9: Journal

One year after my brother died, I found his last discovered geocache. Just a plain, hollowed out rock down by the local creek. I knew it was the last one he found, because he had logged the date in the geocache journal.

I ran my fingers over his name. Next to the exact date he died.

The dates before his all also… occurred the same day every year. Why were people finding this cache on this day?

Why had I? I didn’t hunt treasures.

Frowning, I noted a scribbled word at the bottom of the journal. It just read RUN.


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