Thatcher's Patch

PART I

Kevin suffered the great misfortune of being a neighbor of the meanest, sternest, and strictest bitch to walk the halls of Hill High School.

Ms. Abigail Thatcher.

A khaki pencil skirt, knee-high socks peeking slightly above gestapo boots, and a white polo shirt consisted of her daily uniform. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back into a tight military bun, and a silver bracelet with six leaflets hung from her wrist. Thatcher showed compassion for only two things: causing misery to her students and caring for her precious vegetables. On the window ledge inside her classroom once stood three tomato plants. As she gave her morning lectures, she would water and pet them like they were her pets.

Kevin tried his best to avoid her, especially in science, but there was a constant negative air surrounding her.

Hayden Miles sat directly behind Kevin during sophomore year. He was a bigger goof off in school than Kevin was; however, he crossed the line the week of Halloween, smashing Thatcher’s tomatoes and smearing them over the midterm test on her desk after she’d left the room for the period break. He assumed he had gotten away with it.

His assumptions led him to his downfall… literally.

According to the police report on Halloween morning, Janitor Wilson discovered Hayden’s body on the concrete in front of the school. A shattered classroom window twenty feet above—the same window which framed Thatcher’s lovely tomatoes. The blow to the skull was so massive that sections of the brain pertruded through the bone. Pinned on Hayden’s body was a detention slip with “I’m sorry” written in blood, suggesting the deceased committed suicide. Underneath his tongue was a silver leaflet.

Of course, Ms. Thatcher was questioned, like many of the other teachers, but the police could never make a connection. Deep down, Kevin felt she was involved somehow.

A year went by…

The week of Halloween approached once again.

To get to the main part of town, outsiders most likely chose the road most traveled, Hunt Acre Blvd., impressed by the way the picturesque street was lined with picket fences and sidewalks covered slightly by various amber and gold leaves. Large red dogwood trees hung over the fifties-style dwellings housing modern families.

It wasn’t hard to spot Thatcher’s home—the only blue Tudor house on the block. Not to mention, hers was the only house most of the kids and animals seemed determined to steer clear from. Kevin’s house was the tangerine brick to the right of Thatcher’s property.

Halloween night, a group of teenagers paid a visit to Thatcher’s front yard. They stomped her pumpkins into the seeds they sprouted from and egged every inch of her white fence. Turnips, carrots, and corn were savagely pulled from their roots. They finished the deed by pissing on the soil. When the police came by to fill out a report, Thatcher didn’t seem mad only numb.

Kevin remembered walking by the scene with his girlfriend, Lindsey, and his friends Tyler, Naomi, and Scott. They tried to contain their laughter as they entered Kevin’s house, since they were the ones responsible for the assault on her patch. The old witch’s eyes seemed fixated on Kevin….

She knew…

Oh God, have mercy on their souls…she knew…

Another year…

Senior year…

For the previous two weeks, Kevin awoke multiple times to the sound of grinding metal. He dragged himself out of bed to his window. Through the grogginess of his vision, he could see flashes of light echoing from Thatcher’s backyard while the damage to her front yard remained a ruined memorial. He opened the window, which only made the grinding louder in his ears.

What the hell could she being doing back there at three in the morning? And why would Thatcher be grinding metal? In all the years of living beside her, never once did Kevin see Thatcher using construction equipment. He did the only thing he could—return to bed—and tossed and turned for the rest of the night.

Despite how tired he was, Kevin always made time to hang out with his friends. In Spring Hill, you could either catch the metro bus two miles down to the Town Center Mall, or you could cruise the food market lane at Mill Plaza. They decided to go to the market to make plans for Kevin’s Halloween party, since his parents were going on vacation to the Bahamas that weekend.

Inside the store, Naomi snuck comics and candy into her sweat jacket. Tyler smoked weed through his turtle shaped vape. Scott constantly trolled his phone for the latest Pokémon-Go updates. Kevin and Lindsey couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Ah shit…here she comes,” Scott pointed out, taking his eyes away from his phone for a moment.

Thatcher walked down the aisle with a shopping basket.

“I thought vampires only came out at night,” Naomi added.

“I hate this bitch,” Kevin uttered in low tones to his girlfriend.

Thatcher made her way toward the kids.

“Hi, Ms. Thatcher. How are you doing?” asked Lindsey, attempting to ease the weirdness.

“Mr. Nickels…Mr. Curtis …Mr. Wells…Ms. Carson…Ms. Foster.”

Kevin reluctantly continued the conversation. “How’s your shopping going?”

As if he really cared what she was buying…

“Pretty well, Mr. Nickels. I saw your mother not too long ago. She mentioned she is going out of town.”

“Yeah, for the week.”

“Are you going anywhere for the weekend, Ms. Thatcher?” asked Lindsey.

“Actually, I was thinking of doing some harvesting, seeing as my garden was destroyed last year.”

In reaction to her mentioning the garden, the kids held in their laughter and tried to hide their crooked smiles. Lindsey and Kevin were the only two to maintain some composure. But then, they felt the urge to patronize old Abigail further.

“Aww no…,” said Tyler. “You know, I bet it’s those damn badgers." His comments only made his friends laugh harder.

“I’m so glad you’re amused. Kind of like your father, Mr. Wells.”

There was an instant silence when Thatcher mentioned Tyler’s father.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, Mr. Wells, your father had the same obnoxious, lazy humor you seem to possess. But I think the funniest thing he ever did was kill himself…”

“What the fuck!” Both Scott and Kevin came close to Tyler’s side to physically hold him back as the witch continued.

“Certainly, his death got a few laughs out of your mother. But then again, she was too busy making more funny little bastards like you with that mechanic, rather than care about you or your father.”

Tyler seemed ready to knock Thatcher down for her insults to his father’s memory. He might have been able to, even with his friends gripping his arms. Her eyes were stone cold as she looked at each teen.

Before it could get further out of hand, the store manager, who had heard most of the fight, wandered close to assess the situation. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Thatcher curtly responded. “By the way, Ms. Carson, there are carts in the front of the store if you’re worried about carrying your purchases.”

The store manager noticed the items in Naomi’s sweat jacket pocket. He insisted she follow him to the front to make the purchases or to put them back before he called the police.

Thatcher took a powerful step toward Kevin, who refused to be intimidated. “Your mother also told me you’re having a Halloween party. Keep the noise down, Mr. Nickels, or you will answer to the police this time. Enjoy your shopping.” She finally walked away.

The kids attempted to collect themselves outside the store. Tyler, still agitated by Thatcher’s comments, kicked the closest trash can. They waited for Naomi, who was being reprimanded by the store manager and one female police officer. It wasn’t her first time being nabbed for stealing; however, they issued a trespass order against her and let her know that her parents would be notified. Once Naomi was out she went with Tyler and Scott toward the bus stop to catch the Number Ten home.

Kevin and Lindsey decided to walk arm and arm down the street.

PART II

The atmosphere was a mix of many things: more perfect sidewalks with well-conditioned cars lined against the curbs; kids playing in the street like maniacs; every house displaying an explosion of Halloween decorations. With each block they passed, Lindsey pointed out things she loved, such as the coffins, ghosts, and spiderwebs. But Kevin’s mind was in two places. Thatcher’s gaze remained tattooed to his brain.

“Hey, do you think we should match costumes this year? Or just say screw it?”

Kevin remained in his thoughts.

“Of course, there is always the option of showing up naked…”

Nothing.

“Babe? Babe? Where are you right now?”

“Nowhere. I’m here.”

“Really? What did I say?”

“Being naked. Which isn’t a bad idea. And no, we don’t have to match.”

“Are you still thinking about what she said? Forget her. She’s a miserable bitch. She always has been.”

“I know. I live next to her. But I don’t know…I got this weird feeling when she looked at me. I don’t like being that close to that woman.”

“Well, as long as you’re close to me, I don’t care.”

“You’re so cute, babe.”

They laughed and kissed as the two approached Lindsey’s house on Hunt Acre, only three houses down from Kevin and Thatcher. Like a gentlemen, he escorted her to the front door. As he turned to leave, she told him she would text him later after she studied with Naomi via Zoom.

Thatcher hadn’t been home yet. Her tired old station wagon wasn’t in its usual parking spot. However, it was what he did see in the front yard of her house that made him flinch a little.

Thatcher wasn’t known for setting up decorations for any holiday, but when he reached the fence between his house and hers, Kevin could see a type of…scarecrow?

If you could call it that…

Most scarecrows had bodies stuffed with hay and leaves. They wore stupid straw hats and plaid shirts. Sometimes, parents in good old-fashioned Halloween fun would attempt to bring the scare factor by painting blood splatter on its clothes.

And, of course, a typical scarecrow has a face which invites strangers in.

But that thing perched on a pole of broken wire above the rotted garden made victim by Kevin and his friends the year before. There was no face to invite you, only the roundness of freshly grown pumpkin leaning to the side. It was a wonder how it stayed suspended in the air at all above the black wicker bark body underneath it. The wicker continued to expand into its long, oddly-angled arms and legs which were sprawled about. Leaning casually against its knees stood the glistening blade head of a scythe. The blade itself looked too clean, not real.

Was that why Thatcher had been grinding in her backyard in the night? Lord knows, the devil couldn’t have been the one to give it to her, so why would she need scythe?

A chain hung around the neck of the seemingly lifeless, hulk creation. Silver with five leaflets.

Thatcher’s bracelet.

Kevin turned the knob of his front door, feeling the quick touch of the wind pushing him over the threshold. Perhaps it knew something he didn’t.

After dinner, he went up to his room to get on his game station. Both Tyler and Scott were in the game as well, preparing to go on their next mission, a crucial moment in the online division game that required Kevin to be on a headset.

“Shit! You guys, I’m getting hit from the left side!” Scott yelled.

“I’m on my way over. I’m trying to get to the restock box,” Kevin assured Scott.

“Dude, they have seeker mines constantly going out. This is bullshit!” Tyler added.

“Alright, alright. Relax. I got my turret back online. We are good.”

“Kevin, behind you!” Scott warned him.

Kevin’s avatar fell, motionless and defeated, as Tyler and Scott continued to engage the enemy. As he waited to be revived, Kevin stood up from his gaming chair to stretch, removing the headset to give his ears a chance to breath. However, those same ears picked up on the familiar sounds of a horrible neighbor. He pretended not to be bothered by it and went to grab a snack. When he returned to his room, the sound came to a sudden stop. The guys were still preoccupied.

Should he take a peek to see why the grinding wasn’t there anymore? Should he? Should…Screw it! Kevin went to his window and poked his head out. He could almost see into Thatcher’s yard and could smell some smoke but not much, at least not enough to call the fire department. As he pulled his head backward through the window, he noticed it was gone!

Thatcher’s scarecrow was gone!

And the scythe wasn’t there either.

Meanwhile, at her house down the street, Lindsey sat on her bed, discussing PSAT practices and random things over the Zoom call with Naomi. They discussed things like old movies, new movies, comic book characters—specifically the women of Marvel comics—clothes, and, of course, costumes for Halloween.

Naomi sat in her living room with her laptop on her knees and her feet on the coffee table. Her parents were on call at the Hill Institute on the outskirts of the town. “I don’t know why I’m looking over this shit anyway.”

“Because SAT’s are in a few months.”

“So what? My parents are convinced I’m going to be serving life in Alcatraz.”

Lindsey laughed. “I’m pretty sure Alcatraz was shut down years ago. Besides, they would never take you.”

“Very funny, bitch.”

Lindsey moved her hand toward her phone.

“He didn’t text you back yet?” Naomi asked.

“Nah.”

“It’s been five minutes. Aren’t you worried?”

“I happen to love my man. Is that a crime?”

“Yes. Look. Even Scott and I, when we were dating, never clung onto each other this much. What are you guys gonna do when you go to UCLA, and he goes wherever?”

“Actually, he found out he might be eligible for a scholarship to Pepperdine University in Malibu. So…if he gets in, then we might get a place together.”

“And your parents are cool with that?”

“They like Kevin.”

“That’s not what I asked, but okay.”

“Anyways bitch…”

Naomi switched subjects. “What was with Thatcher today?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. We all went home.”

“Yeah, but you have to admit there was something really off about her today. I mean, more than usual.”

“I guess so. But I’m not gonna dwell on it, and neither should the rest of us.”

“It’s not like she was wrong though. About Tyler’s dad. Everyone in town knows the real reason he killed himself was because of Tyler’s mom’s affair.” Slight scratching sounds come from the kitchen as Naomi continued to talk with Lindsey. She took a hit from a weed pipe she made for herself.

“Nome’s, come on. Just drop it. And don’t bring it up at the party. Tyler’s our friend. We need to just move on from it.”

“Thatcher has always been mean, but I never thought she would come out with that shit in front of everyone at the store. That’s really messed up.”

“I hear you.”

“Think it’s obvious she knew it was us. Maybe she was trying to intimidate us or something.” Again Naomi’s head turned to the direction of the kitchen.

“Everyone is intimidated by Thatcher. Even the football guys won’t look her in the eye when she’s on the field chaperoning.”

“It was your man’s fault.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was Kevin’s idea to trash her yard.”

“Wait a minute. Scott was the one who pissed on plants. We just wanted to egg her fence! Not to mention the fact that you were the one that pulled up her vegetables!”

“Yeah but you—” Naomi was cut off by the knocking of the screen door in the kitchen.

“What was that?” Lindsey asked.

“I thought I heard something?”

Both girls took a deep breath.

Naomi looked over her shoulder once again as the rustling grew more frequent at the mention of Thatcher’s name. She turned up the volume on the laptop so that she could still hear Lindsey and rose from her couch to walk toward the door.

“Look, Nome. What’s done is done. Thatcher’s just a messed up old lady, and she always will be…”

“We should call it a night anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna grab something to eat and go to bed. Mom and Dad should be home in a couple hours.”

“Okay. Do you want to have lunch tomorrow? We can go look at costumes.”

Naomi closed and locked the front door. “Yeah, sure. We’ll catch the metro up to the mall.”

“Okay. Later.”

“Later.”

The laptop screen shuts off.

Naomi went to every corner of her downstairs, checking for strange noises. Of course, what she heard rustling outside could have been Mrs. Feldman’s cat. That fat ass tabby cat with the bell collar always brushed its body against the bushes or trash cans nearby. Not to mention, Naomi and Lindsey had been looking at clips of scary movies from the eighties. Clearly, her imagination was responsible for the spat of paranoia. However, to air on the side of caution, she continued to walk around, closing windows and opening doors.

She pushed aside the swinging door leading into the retro-style kitchen with checker pattern marble floors, beach-themed wallpaper, upper and lower cabinets of sea foam green, touches of Halloween in the wrong places. In fact, the only modern thing in the space was a square table next to the bay window looking over the backyard.

The bay window…the only window she did not check.

As she reached inside the refrigerator, the scratching happened again only quicker. She reacted to its sharp echo by dropping a jar of peanut butter she’d been holding. She turned towards the square table not realizing the danger she was really in for. Near the far edge of the table was a pumpkin she hadn’t noticed when she entered the kitchen.

The core of the pumpkin was off, but there wasn’t a candle inside it. The sides possessed moon-shaped bruises that faded into orange. She reached out to rotate it in order to see all the angles, lines, and sides.

Turning it, and turning it again.

The phone rang.

She jumped, her imagination fueling her fear, and went to answer the phone, her back facing the table.

Like a pinwheel, the pumpkin rotated itself back to the bruised patches of its orb. Only instead of a blank expression, there was now a clear face. The moon-shaped bruise turned upward, stamping from cheek to cheek a malicious, open grin filled with very real teeth.

Naomi remained clueless as she gave her mother an update on her day.

The creature started to rise, its body ceasing to blend with the space beneath the table. Somehow, it was able to stagger silently behind her.

“I will. I will. Love you, too.”

An oversized wire in the shape of a hand used its fingers to take what it came for.

Naomi.

PART III

Apart from the soundtrack of the division game on his TV, the only other sounds heard in Kevin’s room were the snores and grunts of deep sleep. A freight train couldn’t have woken him, not even the constant grinding from Thatcher’s yard, which had calmed down by three in the morning.

As he slept above in his comfortable bed, a body was being dragged over the sidewalk into the narrow alley which separated Kevin’s and Thatcher’s homes. In the thin layers of dirt were two sets of wet prints: the back heels of shoes, most likely human; and circular stubs, likely inhuman. In the slushy, clear residue left behind with each step were pumpkin seeds. The dragging continued all the way into the back of Thatcher’s yard, followed by the quick, heavy shut of a rusty cellar door.

Another day closer to Halloween…only one more day until the big party.

Kevin decided to meet up with Scott and Tyler to get the last of the “party favors.” All the Spring Hill seniors knew they had to go to Anthony to get the finest quality weed. He was better known as the Doc, since he practically sold a pharmacy out of his red Chevy. For fifteen bucks he could get you enough hash for three weeks. All you had to do was leave the money along the inside of the school statue—the Spring Hill Trojan—and come back the same day at three.

The guys had already placed the money where it needed to be. It was time for the pickup—three o’clock on the dot, just as everyone was leaving the building for the holiday weekend. Even though they didn’t look directly at her, they could feel the chill of Thatcher’s presence, which made them walk even faster. Getting into her car,

“Dude, thank God it’s Friday.” Tyler groaned as he rolled his eyes in the back of his head.

“I know. I couldn’t take any more of that fucking English class. I needed to get out of there.” Kevin showed he agreed with his frustratingly itching his adolescent beard.

“Have your parents gone yet?” Scott asked

“They’re leaving tonight.”

“Who else is coming tomorrow?” Tyler jumped in druling at the idea of all the popular girls that would show up to the party.

“People.”

“People!” Scott and Tyler asked in unison.

“Yeah, people. What do you want, a fucking guest list?”

“As long as I’m on it.” Scott smiles like a jack ass.

“You could be.” Kevin responded sarcastically.

“Ah, sweet! I got Solgaleo! Fucking outstanding!” Scott rejoiced his capture of another rare Pokémon.

Suddenly, Kevin’s phone gave the alert that Lindsey was on Facetime. When he answered, he could see the quiet panic in her eyes.

“Hey, babe.”

“Did Naomi call you?”

“No, why?”

“I’ve been texting her and calling her all day. We were supposed to meet up. It’s not like her to not give a heads up if she didn’t want to come.”

“Hmmm…I don’t know. Try her again. I’ll give her a call too. Maybe she’s just sleeping in. You know she sleeps like a dead person.”

The rushed echoes of police sirens went by the guys. At least three cop cars moved at seventy miles per hour down the street before making a sharp left turn at the corner. Behind them, the boys noticed a different car following the police at the same speed.

It was Mr. Carson, Naomi’s dad.

“What’s that?” Lindsey asked.

“Not sure. Call you back, okay?” Kevin hung up.

The boys rushed in the direction of the Carson residence. Kevin could see Sheriff Lark talking to a frantic Mr. and Mrs. Carson. The father was demanding answers from the police, and the mother trembled with tears rolling down her face as she attempted to get out words about the damage around them.

“What the hell happened?” Scott said under his breath

The front door was off its hinges, and its sides were widened as if a big animal had burst through the sidings. Streaks from bloody fingertips smudged the bay window in the living room. Patches of grass and dirt had been torn up from the ground like someone was trying to get away. Although they were not allowed inside, the boys could see behind the police in the doorway. Most of the furniture from the table in the kitchen up to the living room had been turned over. There was obviously a hell of a fight, and Naomi was the one who lost. But there was no body or sign of her.

“Scott!” Mrs. Carson yelled when she saw the boys. “Scott!” She moved so frantically that the deputies and Mr. Carson restrained her. “Scott, where is she? Where is she!”

“I don’t know. We haven’t seen her!” Scott yelled back.

“What’s going on?” Kevin asked.

“I swear, if this is some kind of sick, Halloween joke!”

‘We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you give me that crap! I found a weed pipe in the couch, and we all know about your side business. There was somebody over here with her last night!”

“Mrs. Carson, please…,” said one of the deputies. “Boys, Naomi was attacked late last night. The neighbors heard some noises that sounded like a fight, but they didn’t see anything. Did any of you come over?”

“We were playing video games online last night. All night,” Kevin explained.

“And she never tried to call you or contact you in anyway?”

“No.”

“No, sir,” said Tyler.

“How about you, Scott? You all were dating a little while ago.”

“So? That doesn’t mean I came over. And it doesn’t mean I would have done something to hurt her. Come on, Mrs. Carson.” Scott directed his anger at her as well as the officer.

“As far as we know, Naomi and Lindsey were talking on the Zoom last night. Everything was good,” said Kevin.

“She better be good. Or so help me Kevin, Scott, and Tyler…” Mr. Carson’s voice clouded with fear and with empty threats.

“Look, we didn’t do anything!” Scott raged.

“That’s enough! Mr. and Mrs. Carson, we’re gonna wrap up your statements and do our job here. You boys are gonna go to your homes now. But I am going to be visiting you all again for statements. Now, go.”

The guys went on their way, barely saying a word. Tyler and Scott returned to Scott’s house to clear their minds before the party. On his way home, Kevin gave Lindsey a quick call to update her about Naomi.

PART IV

A full moon wasn’t uncommon in Spring Hill, but never had one been so golden or bright as that night. The smell of the autumn leaves from the dogwood trees was even crisper. Like clockwork, the street lamps clicked on at six, highlighting the scattered police cars under them. Families of four and larger went from door to door, shop to shop in the middle of town, neighbor to neighbor for candy.

A perfect corny picture of the idea of Halloween.

Although he wasn’t the only senior throwing a party, Kevin’s place drew a good-sized crowd of his classmates. Thatcher’s home stood in silence, and her fucked-up creation remained unseen. An iPhone was hooked up to a stereo, and the music bounced the walls, rattling the china in Mrs. Nickels’ antique cabinet. Kevin, dressed as Super Mario, brought the keg he’d been saving from his basement. So many bodies pushed together made it hard to see who was who. Kevin pulled out his phone to hit up Tyler and Scott first.

At the Curtis household there was Scott, almost passed out on the sunken couch in his bedroom. He felt the vibrations of his phone wedged in the arch of his back. He lived in a cest pool of dirty laundry, flat chip bags, and porn magazines. He slowly roused from his sleep, noticing his TV was on static. There were patches of wetness or ooze along the sides of the screen.

“Tye?” He asked getting his sea legs as he stood up. “Hey, Tye...where you at, bro?”

Scott moved through the upstairs of his house. He tried to steady himself by touching the walls, but he felt the ooze, now so obvious along the walls and on the floor. He staggered going downstairs.

“Tye! Tyler, man, come on. Stop fucking around! Where are you?”

He discovered the front door appeared the same as what they had witnessed at Naomi’s home. It hung on loose hinges, a giant hole through its sides. Through blurry vision, Scott could make out Tyler’s feet twitching on the porch only three feet away. Perched over Tyler’s body was the creature that finished Naomi. Its pumpkin head opened wide, showing jagged teeth in front of a weird, pimple-covered tongue. It smothered Tyler with a foul French kiss. The deeper its tongue forced its way down into Tyler’s body, the more he twitched in pain. The creature’s wire hands held him down as its stick body pinned his legs.

“Holy shit!” Scott yelled.

The creature turned and violently screech at him. Scott ran in the opposite direction, getting the gun he knew his dad kept in the junk drawer of the office. He cocked the gun while his hands trembled. He turned to point at the door, assuming the creature was directly behind him. But he was confronted with a weird silence. There were no sounds, or so it seemed. He walked slowly back in the direction of the front door.

Tyler’s body continued to convulse in pain. Scott was about to make a run for it until screeching from above.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Kevin mentally was in two places. The party was going well for the most part, and he wanted to keep up with his classmates in beer pong. On the other hand, he’d been calling and texting his other friends for half an hour. It wasn’t like them, even after smoking bongs, to not respond to his calls or messages.

Mikey Lobo, dressed in his decayed zombie costume, staggered in a drunken stupor in Kevin’s direction. Miraculously, with all the alcohol in him he didn’t collapse directly on the floor. Rather, he flopped on top of Kevin.

“Hey…Hey…Yeah, man….Thiss isss a great party.” Mikey’s breath was an inferno of gross.

“That’s nice, Mikey. Glad you’re having fun,” Kevin assured Mikey with a deep throat laugh.

“But I need something to eat. You got chips?”

“Yeah, man, for fuck sake, they’re in the kitchen.”

“I got the dips!” Mikey pushed himself up from Kevin.

Thankfully, Kevin felt the sudden vibration of his phone. It was Lindsey texting him that she was ready and was on her way to his place.

Coming out her house, constantly checking for any missed messages on her phone, was Lindsey. Her outfit of choice was a sexy red riding hood. Her eyes and lips shined with a ruby sparkle that matched the shade of her hooded cape, which she kept up as she walked. In addition to Kevin, Lindsey also tried to contact the others…but nothing.

As she approached the porch steps, she could see the bodies of kids through Kevin’s living room windows.

But there was a rattling on the side of the house.

She could ignore it, of course, until she reached for the front door handle. The rattling happened again, but that time with a mix of soft, struggling breaths, similar to the wheezing of an rabid animal.

Again, she could have dismissed it…if only she hadn’t turned her head to the left.

Through the slats of the picket fence separating the houses, something wool was bunched up in the shaggy grass, inches away from Thatcher’s ruined garden.

She decided to get a closer look.

Lindsey recognized the wool hat as Naomi’s. She never went anywhere without it. Lindsey didn’t hesitate to climb to the other side of the fence.

“What the hell?”

Smudges of day-old blood along the inside of the hat rubbed against Lindsey’s fingertips. The wheezing sound came again from the side of Thatcher’s house. The rattles from before she now could tell came from Thatcher’s silver garbage cans, which were knocked over. There was not one light on in the old bitch’s home, but there was a glow emanating from the back.

Lindsey’s gasping curiosity lead her behind the house.

Mikey Lobo, still drunk, still determined to find those chips, wondered into the kitchen. He managed to drown himself in one more cup of beer before making a mess of the area.

“Chip…Chips…Yoo-hoo! You there, chips?”

The kitchen door leading to the backyard creaked open softly, but Mike ignored it.

“I want chips! Jesus!”

Mikey began going through the upper cabinets of the kitchen. As he tossed baking soda and cereal boxes, a figure stepped through the door and closed it just as softly. A hand lifts the end of a well-sharpened scythe. Oddly the blade, made of black steel, doesn’t hide the red stains splattered across its edges.

“Hey,” Mike said. “What are you going to do with that?”

Goodbye Mike…

Lindsey followed the wheezing sounds to the back of Thatcher’s home. She hid herself next to the house’s siding and fearfully kept her face deep inside her red hood. She finally saw the creature and had to grab her mouth to stop from screaming.

It wasn’t just the thing’s fucked up physical features or even the fact that its head was a moving pumpkin that frightened her. It was the sight of her friends, Scott and Tyler, piled on one another by the creature’s feet. She could tell by the marks of cement across their faces and the rough shape of their clothes that they’d been dragged over to the house. Scott was definitely dead, his eyes rolled into his skull and his mouth inhumanly stretched open. Tyler seemed dead enough, or at least he wished he was. His eyes were also rolled back deep into his brain, and his body seemed unable to stop convulsing.

God, help him.

As if it could hear her thoughts, the creature reacted by rotating its head one hundred and eighty degrees to look. It opened its mouth a little to snarl. Then, it rotated the rest of its body toward Lindsey’s direction. The urge to run building up in her legs only made them feel like jelly.

It moved slowly, as if it didn’t want to startle her, and took four steps toward the house.

“Momma?” it called to her in a deep, raspy voice. “Momma?”

Lindsey’s hands pressed harder against her mouth. The thing was actually talking to her.

It has a momma? Could that momma be Abigail Thatcher?

When it didn’t receive a response, the creature returned its focus to the corpses of her former friends. With a loud thud, it finished removing the chains connected to the double metal doors of Thatcher’s basement. The creature pulled the boys’ bodies by the collars down a set of stairs into the house.

Lindsey trembled. She should have called the cops right there, but she couldn’t help wanting to see more, especially if there was a chance for Naomi to still be alive. She didn’t even think to look around for a possible weapon to defend herself. Instead, she crept to the open doors, listening for sounds of the creature moving.

She heard nothing and entered the basement.

Back at the party….

The stranger who confronted Mike blended in with the crowd of kids, dressed as a Grim Reaper holding a scythe, which was more than appropriate. They observed the foolish teenagers making asses out of themselves draining the beer keg on the dining room table to the last drop. Above was a standard-issue fire alarm. Using the scythe, the stranger completely removed it from the ceiling in one swipe. They locked the front door, slipping the deadbolt on and breaking the knob.

In the haze from the pot, all the kids ignored what the stranger was doing around them, locking the windows and robbing the alcohol cabinet of its cognac and brandy. The stranger poured the bitter juices over the family couch as well as most of the floor. The cognac was thrown in the opposite direction, along the tables, over all the outlets and multiple block chargers the kids brought to the party.

Kevin knew something was wrong, but he knew better than to show it. He even tried to go to his room for a little bit of quiet so he could call his friends. No response, no text, no Facetime. Why would his friends bail on him all of a sudden? Not even Lindsey was picking on his calls..

Kevin remained in his room for a while, laying down on his bed and holding his phone above him with one hand. He rubbed his eyes frustratingly with the other.

“Guys, where the hell are you?” He tried Lindsey once again and was directed to voicemail. “Babe, you said you were coming. What the hell? Call me.”

He switched on his TV, catching an urgent news report. The newscasters showed video of an interview with Naomi’s parents earlier in the day. They showed the damages to the Carson home and a picture of Naomi wearing her wool cap with her small circle of friends. Then it switched to footage of the Curtis household, Scott’s home.

Kevin sat up at the sight of the damages to Scott’s front door and yard. It was the same as Naomi’s place. There were at least three or four cop cars parked with seven or eight officers scouring the area. The reporter also mentioned Tyler’s parents who, after seeing the incident on the news as well, were concerned about Tyler, since they knew he was hanging out with Scott.

“Holy shit!”

Kevin’s bedroom window was still ajar. Suddenly able to hear someone screaming through all the madness of the TV and sounds of the party, he rushed to the window to open it all the way. He stuck his head out to see into Thatcher’s yard.

“Get off me!”

“Lindsey!” Kevin immediately recognized his girlfriend on the grass of Thatcher’s backyard, a monster on top of her, trying to pull her back down into the basement.

“Get off me! Get off me!” The more she screamed the more it clawed at her.

The creature ripped her costume apart, revealing her bare flesh and breast. Her black hair was thrown all over her face, and he watched as her phone was broken by the monsters feet.

Kevin couldn’t move fast enough. But when he reached the kitchen, he stopped. He had never seen a body half-sliced before. It leaned against the back door almost like a barricade. Mike’s torso barely hung onto the rest of his body. But his head was the most disturbing. His eyes had rolled all the way back, and a vertical gash was in the center of his brain, like something had been taken out or removed by a surgeon. So much damn blood covered the kitchen sink and splattered on the cabinets.

Soon, there were several bodies trying to run for the door. Kevin was thrown into the mix. His eyes widened with fear as everything around him spun out of control.

“Fuck! Lindsey!” He reluctantly pushed Mike’s body out of the way and pulled on the door.

The stranger used one of the Halloween candles that lit the room to set the liquid trail into full blaze. Chargers melted into the sockets, filling the air with intense smoke. All the pictures, furniture, and anything that meant something to the Nickels family was gone in flash. More and more horrible screams followed.

The stranger exited through the kitchen like Kevin, but not before placing a dish towel on the gas stove to set it on fire. The smoke mixed with the coppery aroma of Mike’s blood. They closed the door tight as the flames rose higher, as others attempted one last try to leave.

Eventually came the sound of breaking glass. The few that weren’t being crucified by the flames gladly took the pain from the cuts of the shattered glass from the windows to make their escape.

FINALE

Kevin jumped over the fence to get to Lindsey. Out of instinct, even though fear ran through his veins, he charged into the monster with his shoulder. He managed to knock the monster off, but it only aggravated it. As Kevin grabbed Lindsey, the creature stood straight up onto its stick body to open its head, letting out a long, intense roar.

Kevin and Lindsey dashed madly from the yard into the crowded streets. Too many bodies were getting in the way of the cop cars approaching the neighborhood, and so many more were still struggling to get out of the flames. Sheriff Lark had yelled for people to calm down, to move out of the way for the firetrucks and ambulances to get through.

Somehow, Kevin and Lindsey were able to run a good distance away from it all, with Kevin constantly looking over his shoulder. The crowd became smaller behind them as they reached Lindsey’s front door.

They assumed they were safe for the moment, that the creature didn’t know where they were.

Lindsey continued to cry softly into Kevin’s arms as they blocked the front door with their bodies.

“What the hell was that thing?”

“He…he…he killed…” she wheezed through her tears. “He killed them. He killed all of them. They’re down there!”

“Babe, what are you talking about?”

“Tyler, Naomi, Scott…they’re all in her basement.”

The kitchen wasn’t far from where they sat huddled on the floor. They heard the whoosh of something coming from that direction, followed by the breaking of glass.

Kevin decided to see what was happening, but his girl didn’t want to leave his side for a second. Lindsey found her softball bag with her two favorite bats inside. She held onto the wooden one she used for practice, while Kevin grabbed the heavy metal barrel of the second one used for serious hitting.

Foolish and slow, they entered the kitchen. It looked ransacked. Dishes were broken all over the place, the detached island was turned over, and the farmhouse sink was running with a dented faucet. The pot lights that hung above where the island originally stood were ripped out of their sockets. It was dark. The air smelled rotten, and the window overlooking the sink was busted through.

However, there was no sign of the creature.

Kevin held his free hand slightly upwards to signal Lindsey to hang back as he ventured forward. He widened his grip on the bat, prepared to hit anything that came within two feet of him.

A deep, familiar roar came from directly above Lindsey as the creature descended. She landed on her back but managed to use the bat to defend herself until it was pulled from her hands.

“Hey bitch!” Kevin called out, charged the creature as it looked to the sound of his voice.

Strike One! He swung hard to the right.

Strike Two! He swung even harder to the left.

It was difficult to determine if the blows were really hurting the monster.

Strike Three! It missed.

The creature took Kevin’s bat away before throwing him in the direction of the fridge. Kevin’s head hit the top of the freezer door as Lindsey wriggled loose from the monster. She tried to kick it in the back, but there was hardly anything to kick. Instead, it surprised her by reaching between its legs to pull hers out from under her. It dangled her four feet above the tile floor.

Kevin recovered from his brief knock out to find a nearby knife. “Let her go!”

He started to swing the knife, aiming for its head. He managed to pierce its pumpkin flesh deep enough for it to release Lindsey. She fell on her head, rendering her unconscious.

The creature focused its blind rage on the only one left in the room. Kevin wasn’t one to back down from a fight, even with monsters, but the creature was hungry to take the fight out of the hero. It used its claw hands to repeatedly bash Kevin against the fridge until it was certain he was down.

Strike one…strike two…strike three…goodnight.

Based on the dark shading of the Halloween moon, the time was past one in the morning. Sheriff Lark and the fire chief managed to finally get the block under control. The teens that were fortunate enough to make it out were in shock, unable to move or breathe at the sight of their former classmates’ burned remains being dragged out of the Nickel’s house.

19 Burned Alive at Party of the Century. That’s what the Spring Gazette would say in the morning paper.

Kevin’s eyes rolled beneath his lids as he came to. He could tell he was in a damp, cold place because he could feel the concrete slab beneath him. His hands were bound by bizarre, thorny vines to a long plumber’s pipe against a brick wall. His mouth had been taped over to muffle any chance he had to scream for help.

The air was mixed with the electric smell of various oversized heat lamps and decay. Fully awake, he attempted to get his hands free. He wanted to look for Lindsey, but the creature returned.

It was at eye level with Kevin, but it didn’t open itself up. Instead, its pumpkin head stayed closed and slowly rotated. A face was painted on in black, styled like a traditional jack-o-lantern.

“Fuck you!” Kevin kicked at it through the tape.

The creature didn’t like that. Its aggravation grew, the desire to feed on him obvious. But the sound of footsteps came down the stairs.

The stranger from the party, the one in the reaper costume, approached them, carrying a scythe. They removed their black hood, revealing themselves.

Of course, it was Thatcher.

“Momma.” The creature spoke.

Abigail Thatcher started the fire. She created the horrible thing. She did it all. Man, what a mean vengeful old bitch. It was hard to tell if she was smiling since she never expressed any sort of joy; on the other hand, the dropping curves of her thin lips were slightly turned up. True to form, her blonde hair was kept in that tight bun. There were small traces of Mike’s blood on the bottom of her squared, wrinkled chin.

“Not this one yet.” She pet the top of the creatures head. “Go there.” She instructed it in the direction of an examination table.

The creature obeyed its “momma” and walked toward the table where Lindsey was shackled by her hands and feet. She was still unconscious for the moment. On the wall behind her was a chalkboard filled with various old symbols and formulas.

Could this be witch craft, since there are images of a pentagram? Or even devil worship?

More things became clear as Thatcher moved around the room: the hanging, leftover parts she must have been using to build her killer creation; various habitats for small animals, some alive and some dead, kept in cages. Black, red, and white candles lined the shadowed corners of the room. Thatcher’s basement acted as laboratory, alter, and morgue.

Thatcher, still dressed as death, placed her scythe to the side of Lindsey to check the damages to her head. She seemed pleased in a way, but again, it was hard to tell with fucked-up Abigail. The monster watched his master like the eager little fat kid waiting for ice cream. Thatcher stepped away from the table to examine her creature, to determine why he had been wheezing the way he did.

Kevin vigorously rubbed the vines around his hands, trying to use the friction to free himself. He wanted to keep watching Lindsey, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Thatcher.

On a cart was a strange book made of leather with a word Kevin couldn’t make out or even pronounce—NUKPANA. Thatcher reached for what could have been forceps.

“Open,” she said to the creature in a stern tone.

With no trouble, she forced the instrument down its throat. The creature shook the harder it went down into the opening, and it made crying sounds as if were an infant in reaction to the pain. Deeper down the old crone went until she finally latched onto what she was searching for. Whatever it was had been stuck on its vocal cords. She had to use her strength to yank the damn thing.

Kevin rubbed his palms even faster. The sight of everything nearly made him shit his pants since he couldn’t throw up through the tape over his mouth. The object she ejected from the creature’s mouth was a three-feet-long tongue stretched out in the worst possible way.

The creature was no longer wheezing. Thatcher ordered it to sit against the wall under one of the hanging heat lamps in order to regain itself. She even watered it with a sprayer after smearing the nozzle with blood from Lindsey’s head.

Soon, it was time for Thatcher to attend to her other creations. She took the book from the cart, then pulled back a plastic curtain directly across from Kevin. After all, he was her audience.

On the floor, split right in the middle of the concrete, was a six-foot hole filled with soil. Against the brick behind the soil were bits of fence recovered from Thatcher’s front yard, where Kevin and his friends had destroyed her garden. She preserved it well. Within the soil were four plants. Each looked sickly and had odd human features: a living eye, two or three sharp teeth, even something like the top of a finger on a hand. Two newly fresh little holes had been made. Thatcher opened a page from the book and spoke an incantation that caused the plants to move.

Lindsey started to wake up and tugged silently at her shackles. Kevin could see tears rolling down her cheek as she struggled.

Finally, Thatcher spoke to Kevin.

“Do you recognize these, Mr. Nickles?”

He looked at her plants, the humanoid features shapeshifting into regular vegetables as if it were a type of mirage.

“These were my babies last year. The ones you murdered. As you can see, I have given them new life. With a little scientific experimentation, a little magic, and the brain seeds from your friends’ dull minds, I was able to accomplish such a thing. You can just ask Hansel over there.” She pointed her head in the direction of the creature. “He was sprouted from the brain seed of Mr. Hayden Miles. It wasn’t enough, pushing that little bastard out my classroom window. He deserved worse for killing my plants. You all deserve worse.”

Kevin’s palms managed to get leverage enough out of the vines. However, he remained still to keep his eyes on Thatcher as she kept going on with her speech.

Thatcher stood up to walk away from the soil and grabbed her scythe. She looked down at Lindsey, who stopped cold in her efforts to escape.

“I’m going to plant you both in my fucking soil, and then eat you up! Hansel! Now.”

The monster popped up from the corner to do Thatcher’s biding. After taking only two large steps, he perched himself above Lindsey. Thatcher removed the tape from across Lindsey’s mouth like a Band-Aid. Hansel’s head was ready to feed on its next victim.

“Fuck You!” Kevin screamed as he charged at both Thatcher and the monster.

The contact made Hansel crash into a nearby bookshelf filled with dozens of hardback book covers. Thatcher hit the cement hard and dropped her scythe, but that old bitch wasn’t so easy to subdue. Kevin grabbed the scythe to swipe against the chains of Lindsey’s shackles. Then without thinking, he tossed the weapon to the side of Thatcher’s patch.

The long handle stood against the brick wall while the blade leaned upwards against the soil. Hansel popped up once again to swing its metal hands at the kids. He clipped the left side of Kevin’s face, creating three long scratch lines. Lindsey flipped her feet over her head to kick Hansel in the face.

Kevin and Lindsey grab onto each other to make a B line for stairs leading to the only door. They pushed against it as hard as possible, only to find that it was locked by another chain on the opposite side. Soon, Kevin felt Thatcher’s fingers pulling him backward, choking his throat.

She screamed in his ears the more she squeezed. Lindsey used her strength to get Thatcher off Kevin, but Hansel got to her tiny waist and pulled her back towards the table.

“Die! Die! Die!” Thatcher continued to rant in the struggle.

Kevin thrashed his body so that he and Thatcher both hit several walls, forcing her to let go.

As Lindsey was being dragged to the table by her legs, she saw vials that had been knocked off from the bookcase Hansel crashed into. One was clearly labeled “Acid.”. She kicked…then kicked…and kicked once more to get herself free long enough to reach for the chemical. Hansel didn’t seem to notice what she was doing.

Lindsey didn’t even bother to open the tube. Instead, she threw it directly in Hansel’s face where the vial smashed.

“Ahhhhhhhhhha!” he screamed as the liquid seeped into the flesh of his pumpkin head. Even though he had no real eyes, his metal hands went up to where they would have been.

The fight between Kevin and Thatcher moved to the floor. She latched onto his back as he used his elbows to jab into her sides. Thatcher gazed up from the fight to see her creation slowly die. Her distraction allowed an opportunity for Kevin to break through her grasp.

Wham! In the goddamn face, two to three times to knock her out.

Hansel was brought to his knees by the pain. “Ahhhhhhh!”

Lindsey could barely move because the monster had one finger on the end of her torn costume.

“Kevin!” She yelled.

Hansel was low enough on the floor for Kevin to finish him off. Kevin ran his foot straight through Hansel’s head until there was nothing put teeth, seeds, and blood. He removed his foot from the wet sweet-smelling stickiness of the creature’s head to help his girlfriend up.

But they had forgotten something…

More hateful screams came from a fully awakened Thatcher. A last attack on the teen lovers.

As one force, Kevin and Lindsey pushed Thatcher down. Her face didn’t land just on the concrete; it went all the way through the sharpened blade of her own scythe. Her blood, acting like a canteen, squirted over the soil that kept her precious and bizarre plants.

Holding tightly onto one another, Kevin and Lindsey had to take a few breaths to snap themselves out of the shock. They heard officers on the outside of the house, banging against the basement door. Slowly, the teens turned their bodies toward the exit. But it wasn’t exactly the end…at least not for Kevin.

Hansel had a few last minutes of life still within him. He grabbed Kevin’s ankle.

“Nooooooooo!” Lindsey screamed.

Police finally broke the door in with the help of the fire department’s regulation axe. None of them could believe the craziness surrounding them. They found Lindsey against the bottom of the stairs with tears flowing, barely any breath. She was staring at where Thatcher’s body lay. The EMT’s did their best to attend her.

“Jesus. What the hell is all this?” exclaimed Sheriff Lark.

They all witnessed what the kids had seen: the dead animals, the pile of corpses of the missing kids, the spell book, the patch, Thatcher.

On top of Thatcher, the most tragic of all, they saw Kevin. His head had also been pierced by the scythe. His blood also flowed into the cursed dirt of her patch.

All that was missing was the monster Hansel.

The police never found him, but for Lindsey, she would always see him on every corner, in every room. Whenever she passed a garden, she knew that’s where he would be.