They were coming.
Sam awoke with this thought. Throughout the day he puttered around the house trying desperately to ignore his rising fear but by late afternoon the images in his mind began to overwhelm him. The idea of his impending doom possessed him. Thoughts of how other men faced their own death consumed him.
He knew of men who had bravely faced their fate and accepted it. He knew others who had even welcomed it when it came. But he also knew that no man is truly immune to that final horror one feels as the life drains from you.
It was these dark ruminations that haunted him as he stood at the kitchen sink absent mindedly wiping a dish with a cloth. As he moved to place the plate in the drying rack it clinked against another. His train of thought was broken. His attention was drawn to the rapidly gathering dusk outside. A sudden panic seized him. The sun was gone and they would be coming.
He gazed panic-stricken at the garden path. There was something moving at the gate. It fumbled clumsily with the lock and pushed its way through. It began to shamble up the walk to the house. Two other dark figures joined it. They were small but Sam could see their awful visages.
Sam ran to the front of the house. He could hear them on the porch; their tiny voices in whispers. There was a knock. Then another. The doorbell rang.
Something in his mind drove Sam’s hand to the chain and slid it open. He strove with himself not to open the door but his hands were seemingly commanded by some other will. He opened the door a crack. They were horrible to look upon.
At once their faces split into grins and they shouted to him in unison, “Trick or Treat!” Quickly Sam glanced at the bowl by the door. It was as he feared. It was empty.
I'm Karl Fogsen. Thanks for reading.
