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A Halloween Fable, October 31

Do you believe in ghosts, witches, and other ghoulish creatures being out during this season

By Irina PattersonPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 3 min read
Top Story - October 2021
13
Image by brands amon from Pixabay

The dead trees on both sides of this macabre road line up like bony corpses with contorted arms. We recoil in horror.

The bruised leaves dangle from their branches like limp fingers. The air smells of our decomposing dreams.

The storm is ripping the trees to pieces as if they're attempting to flee. They appear to know something about our fate.

What lies beyond? Are there already corpses hanging from their blackened limbs? Will we be joining them soon?

We have been walking for hours now and are still deeply in the woods. We don't know how far this road leads, but that isn't important at the moment.

What is - is to get off this miserable path at any cost.

Do you want to go back? For what? To be eaten alive by one of them?

No… you don't want that. I'd rather drown in a fetid green ditch full of stinking water than be eaten for supper.

We walk on in silence, the road laid out before us like a dead snake's black tongue with leaves falling off the trees onto its back; dying embers fall down to be crushed under our heavy, muddy boots.

The sickle-shaped moon looks down on us, fiercely squinting from behind a dark cloud. The road ahead of us is becoming more difficult to see.

Who are these strangers among us? We glance at each other cautiously. Will we betray each other in order to save ourselves when it's our turn?

Something's stinking so bad. We pinch our noses and press on. We strain to hear even the faintest sound, but only the swishing of the wind reaches our ears.

The wind is so cold -- it has us shivering in our frayed coats. The last day of October feels like the last day of our lives.

I've been grinding my teeth for so long that I'm getting a headache. It hurts so bad I think I'll scream.

How much longer can we keep this up? We haven't seen a living soul in days, weeks maybe ... I don't know how long we've been stumbling through these thorny hedges.

We have to get out of here! The woods are so dense, I'm afraid we'll never find the way back to the road.

The wind has settled down for a moment ... but it's only building up its strength. We think we hear screams echoing in the distance.

Intense pain rips through my feet. I drag myself to the left side of this hellish road, but I'm sinking into swampy earth now.

I throw myself down on the ground and wail. The wind tears at my hair, its howling rises to a high-pitched screech.

What I thought was a fallen branch appears to have been a pale naked arm. The corpse was holding a sign which reads:

"You are now entering the land of miserable death."

The wind's whistle turns into an unnerving creak as it stirs up. A limb snaps, making me jump up. The sudden noise sends flocks of black crows fleeing in all directions. What do the crows know that we don't?

As they fly away, their caws echo eerily across the distance, a forlorn warning to the rest of their tribe and us. Something is coming.

The darkness is advancing. We hear distant rumbling. Will the road's end brings our death or salvation?

We're filled with dread. The fire of the fallen stars has not gone out and continues to rain down on us...

The trees whisper again. Their message is short and simple: "Pray for your souls."

We tremble with fear, but wait - the sound of a distant drum gives us a glimmer of hope. What is it?

It's getting closer...it sounds like a drum being beaten in slow motion. The drumbeat changes our heartbeats from panic to anticipation...

Wait a minute; I just heard it, my internal clock ding-donged midnight.

We've turned around to watch the final flicker of October vanish gradually in the smoky air.

Stepping over into November 1st, we have been saved.

performance poetry
13

About the Creator

Irina Patterson

M.D by education -- entertainer by trade. I try to entertain when I talk about anything serious. Consider subscribing to my stuff, I promise never to bore you.

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