A Halloween Story


I was feeling inspired by the “doom and gloom” of Halloween so I wrote my version of this spooky story. Happy Halloween!

– Michelle





“Rosalie honey, come down and give your father and I a kiss,” called Mrs. Peterson from the foot of their ornate rosewood staircase. Rosalie bounced down the stairs, dressed in a cream colored lace dress, with her chihuahua skipping past her. “Daddy, why do you have to go?” she asked, pouting a little bit. “You’re eight years old now, you’re a big girl… Besides, you’re not alone, Izzy will protect you.” her father replied, slightly amused. Rosalie eyed her chihuahua doubtfully, “Sure she will,” she replied with a subtle roll of her eyes. Mr. Peterson checked his watch and his eyes popped a little bit in surprise. “I’m sorry honey, but your mother and I are going to be late if we don’t leave now,” he said, grabbing Mrs. Peterson’s arm and tugging her towards the door. “See you tomorrow morning honey, oh and don’t forget to go to bed early,” she called over her shoulder as she rushed out the door, struggling to keep up with her husband’s brisk pace. Rosalie closed the door and locked it, slumping against the frame with a sigh. “Come on Izzy, let’s go to bed,” she said, trudging back up the staircase. She climbed into her canopy bed, and pulled her covers up over her head. Izzy took her customary place at the side of her bed, circled around herself three times before lying down, and promptly fell asleep. Rosalie pulled the covers down past her head, and stared up at the ceiling, tossing and turning until her eyes began to droop, and she finally fell asleep.
Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip… Rosalie stirred in her sleep and awoke to the faint, almost metallic sound of water dripping onto ceramic, one droplet after another. What is that sound? she thought as she rubbed her bleary eyes. “Izzy, do you hear that?” she asked, her words slurred by sleep. She received only a comforting lick on the hand that hung over the side of her bed. Izzy would know if something was wrong, so it’s probably just the faucet leaking… I’ll tell mom and dad in the morning, Rosalie thought as her warm covers and soft mattress quickly lulled her back to sleep. Drip, drip, drip, drip. Rosalie opened her eyes, once again awakened, and slowly began sitting up, having decided to go investigate the source of the sound. After a moment’s reckoning, Rosalie once again flopped back onto the bed, trusting that her dog would notice if anything was amiss. She let her hand hang over the side of her bed, and felt another comforting lick. Rosalie smiled faintly and rolled over, once again allowing sleep to quickly overcome her. Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip. Rosalie awoke for the third time, clearly annoyed at the constant disturbance. “Izzy, do you think I really have to go make that noise stop, just so we can both get a good night’s sleep?” she asked with a yawn. Drip, drip drip, drip drip drip. Rosalie sighed, “ I guess I do, but three’s a charm, right?” she said drowsily. She sat up sluggishly, and trudged over to the bathroom, stuffing her feet into her slippers along the way as the dripping sound steadily got louder. Rosalie swung open the bathroom door, leaning against it as she turned on the lights with a sluggish flick of her hand, only half awake.
She is greeted by a horrific sight, there, hanging from the shower nozzle is Izzy, with her throat slit open and her blood steadily dripping into the bathtub. Rosalie screamed, a piercing, inhuman sound as sobs wracked her body. She clutched her thin frame desperately, nails digging into the skin over her ribcage. Her eyes flicked around the room wildly, an animal-like quality overcoming her, as if the human part of her had broken beyond repair the second she turned on that light. In the corner of her eye, she saw a streak of red reflected in the bathroom mirror. She turned to face it, trembling and saw that on the wall opposite the shower were the words “Humans can lick too,” written in her dog’s blood. She screamed again, the bloodcurdling sound echoing throughout the bathroom. Suddenly, the motion activated porch light outside turned on. Rosalie saw a man standing outside in the snow, smiling at her through the bathroom window. Her eyes swam with tears and her vision blurred, but the man simply stood there, watching. She stood petrified, and only her eyes flicked back to the gruesome sight in the shower. When she looked back to the window, she saw that the man was much closer to her window now, and still smiling. A horrifying realization suddenly dawned upon her as she looked back to the window… There were no footprints in the snow, and the man in the window was a reflection.

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— michelle longega wilson

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