A Tale for Halloween; And now the screaming starts.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


A chilling Halloween horror story, A blood curdling gorefest for your delectation. Enjoy! Happy Halloween.

Submitted: October 28, 2017

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Submitted: October 28, 2017

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A Tale for Halloween

And now the screaming starts.

Halloween, or soween as some people might call it, October the 31st, the eve of the pagan festival of the dead when the veil of the spirit world is drawn aside and the spirits once more walk the world of the living.

 

A night of fun and laughter.

Connor O’Donnell lived in a small uneventful village in Ireland called Keshcarrigan in county Leitrim. It was a picture postcard village with sweeping views of the Sheebeg and Sheemore hills and was steeped in old Irish Celtic myth and legend. It had a marina which was popular during the summer months with visitors, yet as far as Connor was concerned, Keshcarrigan was probably the most boring place on the face of the earth, but tonight he had decided to bring his own brand of magic to the witching night of Halloween.

Connor was not going to spend another Halloween in the village community hall dressed up as Dracula with little face painted kids running around and Louie the wrinkled old DJ blasting out Thriller and the monster mash again on his rickety old turntables.

No! Connor was determined to make this Halloween a memorable one. He had just turned eighteen and childish little Halloween parties with apple bobbing and pass-the-parcel did not hold any fascination for him anymore.  He had a plan, and it involved vodka, weed and his two best friends and their girlfriends, but most importantly it involved, Kerry Devlin.

Connor was in love with Kerry, he had been since the sixth grade. She was a vision of perfection, A head turner for sure. She was petite and lithe with alabaster skin and rosy cheeks. Her eyes were big and bright hazel, but what did it for Connor was her masses of curly red hair. He loved redheads, what could he say?

Connor had finally plucked up the courage to ask her out three months earlier, and almost fell over when she had said, ‘Yes! I thought you were never going to ask me!’

Connor could have been knocked over by a feather at that reaction, for like most inexperienced teenage lads; he thought that a girl as beautiful as Kerry would not have the slightest interest in someone like him, for Inexperience breeds a lack of self confidence. In fact the only reason, Connor actually plucked up the courage to ask Kerry out was his, Ma giving him some good advice as he confided in her about his love for this red haired vision.

‘Connor, son!’ she said, ‘Just remember one thing in life, shy bairns get nowt! Now get over to her house and grow a pair and ask her out!’

Connor just stared at his mother in shock at her blunt advice.

‘Jesus, Ma that’s a bit brutal, like!’ Connor had finally said.

‘Connor, son if your Da had pussy footed around as much as you are doing now, then you would never have been born!’ she replied.

‘Aaww, Ma, really? That’s too much information!’ Connor twisted his face in disgust as he stormed out of the room. But in hind sight it was sound advice, as Connor got the girl.

 

Happy Halloween!

So the plan was set and the gang met just outside of the village dressed in their costumes with backpacks bursting with booze and snacks and tents just as the sun was setting. Slapping hands and laughing, the gang were excited for their Halloween venture; there was Connor’s best friend, Shaun who had painted his face green and had stuck a pair of plastic bolts to the side of his head. Shaun was the tallest of the group and quite stocky, so the monster suited his ambling demeanour well.

His girlfriend Maise had gone for the killer bride with ripped wedding dress splashed with blood and carrying a large rubber meat cleaver with white face and black circled eyes.

‘I hope that’s not a vision of things to come, eh, Shaun?’ Michael joked pointing to the killer bride.

‘Only if he doesn’t do as he is told!’ Maise growled shaking the rubber cleaver at Shaun playfully.

‘Looks like you got yourself a bunny boiler there mate,’ Michael laughed.

 Michael had gone for a creepy circus clown mask with a frilly red wig and what looked like his granda’s old tailed jacket and a pair of blue Bermuda shorts with red and yellow parrots on them. Michael was the joker out of the pack, so a clown suited him well.

His girlfriend, Riann went for the goth zombie look, with white face and black eyes and blood smears across her mouth. She wore a spiked dog dollar around her neck and had attached black cloth bat wings to her biker jacket sleeves. Her Goth zombie ensemble was finished off with a short leather skirt with ripped fishnet stockings and clumpy doc martin boots.

‘At least Maise made the effort, Mickey.’ Shaun replied, ‘Hey, Riann? Didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to dress up for Halloween not wear your normal gear?’

Everyone burst out laughing, except, Rhiann.

 

Connor was dressed as the Joker from Batman, he had tried his best to imitate the make-up from the dark knight, and he hadn’t done a bad job and was quite proud of his efforts.

Kerry had decided to come as The Joker’s squeeze, Harley Quinn. Connor knew what she was coming as, but she wouldn’t let him see her until Halloween night.

 Kerry was wearing her Ma’s long beige trench coat, then undoing the belt she whipped it off and pointed at Connor seductively and winked. ‘Hey, Joker!’

Kerry wore a short crop top t-shirt with big pink lips on it, exposing her bare sleek mid riff and wore the most impossibly tight pink hot pants that almost disappeared up her butt. And she had plaited her long red hair into two pony tails which stood out from her head with a whole bottle of hair spray to keep it in place and cradled an inflatable mallet over her shoulder which she had got from a gift card shop in Dublin earlier that week.

Connor’s tongue was almost hanging from his mouth as Kerry gave him a big toothy smile and a twirl, ‘Well what do you think puddin’?’ Kerry laughed in a bad American accent as she bent over in front of him, wiggled her bum and swung her mallet as if she were playing crocket.

Connor was lost for words. He just grunted and nodded stupidly.

Maise looking furiously at Shaun as he unabashedly just gawped at Kerry, and punched him in the arm

‘Hey, eyes over here... pervert!’ She snapped.

‘There’s nothing wrong with just looking!’ Shaun winced rubbing his arm.

‘Want a bet?’ Maise growled as she punched him again, harder.

‘Yeah! That goes for you too, COCO!’ Rhian laughed as she playfully slapped, Michael on the shoulder.

‘Oh, god I think I’ve got the horn!’ Michael blurted out much to Rhiann’s annoyance.

‘What-did-you-say?’ Rhian growled angrily.

Yeah I’ve definitely got the horn,’ Michael laughed as he pulled out a small plastic horn from his coat pocket and pumped the rubber bladder making it honk like a dying goose,

‘Ok! That’s enough farting about, are we ready for the best night of our lives?’ Connor suddenly found a voice as he managed to pull his eyes away from, Kerry’s little round bum.

The gang began to whoop and shout as they set off down the dirt track toward their goal, the ancient earth mound that sat shrouded in trees a mile away across the grassy fields, they headed off toward the ancient Bronze Age hillock of SheeBeg cairn.

 

Sheebeg cairn: The little fairy mound.

The six friends had managed to cross the hills and avoid the multitude of cow pats that littered the grazing fields surrounding the old fairy mound.

Legend had it that the old Celtic Irish hero Finn Maccumhail fought a great battle of the hills here and he and his love were buried inside the cairn, for two skeletons had been found laid to rest inside of the stone tomb atop the hill. It was a famous and very well known legend particularly to the locals and children who were told the tale in primary school.

Connor had managed to erect his small tent as had the others; they had laid out their sleeping bags and made a small camp fire.

The flames crackled and flickered in the rich pumpkin orange moonlight of Halloween as the three couples huddled together and stuffed their faces with crisps and biscuits and washed it down with Vodka and coke. As the alcohol started to take hold of them they joked and giggled and laughed as they told horror stories to one another.

Connor took out the weed he had managed to buy off an old biker dude who could always be found in the local pub. Everyone knew the old biker; Fergus smoked the stuff, as he said it was for medicinal purposes to help ease the pain of arthritis in his shoulders and hip. Whether that was a legitimate excuse or not, no one really knew, but Fergus was never any bother to anyone so this little misdemeanour pretty much went unspoken or noticed.

Connor bent down and lit the end of the reefer in the fire then took a couple of small puffs making the end glow bright orange, before slowly letting out a cloud of sickly sweet smelling smoke, then offered it around the group.

‘I am not smoking that!’ Kerry said disapproving.

‘C’mon, Kerry! Its just a bit of fun!’ Maise said as she took the reefer and puffed on it and then began to cough alarmingly.

‘You don’t even smoke, Maise, so why are you smoking that shit for?’ Kerry protested.

Maise rubbed her watering eyes and passed the smoke to Michael.

Michael took the reefer, took a little sniff of it, twisted his mouth then offered it to Shaun, ‘Think I’ll pass!’

Shaun shook his head, ‘Me too, mate, that thing stinks like a fucking burning cow pat!’

‘You said you got this from old Fergus?’ Kerry said shaking her head, ‘You are either very brave or very bloody stupid to even think of smoking that. Knowing, Fergus he probably took a dump and wrapped it in bog roll and sold it to gullible little you for the price of a pint,’ Kerry laughed.

Connor felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment as his friends laughed and sniggered at the cutting remark.

Connor got up and snatched the weed back; ‘Fuck you!’ he spat as he took one last draw from the weed then threw it in the fire. Kerry had a point, Connor thought as it literally did taste like shit, not that he would have known what real cannabis tasted like anyway as he had never used it before. Letting out a cough he took a swig from his cup of Vodka and coke at least that was familiar territory for him.

Deciding he was being a bit of an arsehole, Connor began rummaging through his back pack,

 ‘Ok, how about we try this instead?’ he said.

‘What now?’ Michael quipped, ‘You got some acid in there for us to try or crystal meth to fuck our brains up with?’

The gang giggled.

‘No smart arse!’ Connor twisted, ‘something better, Sausages!’ Connor laughed as he pulled out a frying pan and a packet of pork sausages and a squeezy bottle of ketchup.

‘Now you’re talking my fucking language!’ Shaun chirped, rubbing his hands together.

‘Kerry, you got the buns?’ Connor asked.

‘She definitely got the buns, man!’ Michael laughed as he honked his plastic horn.

‘God, you are such a twat!’ Rhiann growled jealously as she snatched the horn from Michael and threw it in the fire.

‘Hey, babe I was only joking!’ Michael apologised.

Rhiann just turned her head away and sulked in silence.

 

The bottle of vodka didn’t last long, neither did the sausage buns, thanks to Shaun who seemed to think they were all for him.

The moon was full in the night sky beaming down its rich silver light onto the peak of the Sheebeg cairn. The air was a little chill, but not too bad and the warmth from the campfire helped keep its cold touch at bay.

Connor wrapped an arm around Kerry’s shoulders and revelled in the feeling as she snuggled up close to him, then turned and kissed him gently on the lips.

Smiling, Connor nodded toward the tent, Kerry smiled back. They said their goodnight’s as their friends had similar ideas and they all disappeared into their tents and zipped up the door flaps.

Connor’s heart was beating frantically with nervous excitement as Kerry lay down and held her arms out for him. Connor joined her and they began to kiss heavily. The feeling of Kerry’s warm body pressed against him, had Connor intoxicated as they kissed and looked lovingly into each other’s eyes.

Connor suddenly stopped and jerked his head up, ‘What was that?’ he whispered as a small tremor ran across the ground beneath them. Then angrily, Connor growled, ‘If that’s feckin’ Mickey playing tricks I’ll kill the bastard.’

Then it happened again a distinct vibration ran across the ground, Connor and Kerry felt it in their bodies, then a muffled, rhythmic sound followed it a constant deep resonant thumping. Connor knew it wasn’t Mickey or any of the others.

Connor unzipped the tent and crawled out. Outside the others were gathering, ‘What’s going on?’ Connor asked.

‘I was about to ask the same thing, mate,’ Shaun replied looking puzzled.

‘Can you hear that sound?’ Maise asked, ‘it’s coming from over there,’ She pointed at the stone cairn.

‘I really don’t like this!’ Rhiann said her voice was trembling.

Connor began to walk toward the ancient stone structure, Shaun followed him then slowly the others fell in behind.

The sound was becoming more audible, it was a beating of what sounded like drums and the shrill sound of high pitched pipes, like some kid trying to learn how to play a recorder but doing a really bad job of it.

Connor came to a stop several feet from the stone structure and pointed,

‘I have been here dozens of times with school trips and that has never been there before,’ Connor said as he pointed to a big oblong opening at the foot of the stones where the drumming and piping sounds were emanating from.

 

The six friends just stared in dumbfounded fascination at the opening that had appeared in the side of the cairn. An ancient stone path led down into the earth. From below in the chthonic depths a sound could be heard. It was s doleful sound, a sound of foreboding and eerie intent. It sounded like drums, dull and thudding beating steady like a heart, accompanied by a shrill shrieking of pipes, discordant and disturbing to the ear and soul.

‘Ok! This is seriously freaky! Let’s get the fuck out of here, now!’ Shaun blurted out his voice trembling with fear.

‘What about our gear?’ Connor asked.

‘Are you serious, mate? Fuck it lets go-NOW!’ Shaun blurted as he began to back away.

A chill like the breath of winter blew from the deep dark depths of the cairn the six youngsters shivered at its invisible touch. Then from the darkness a figure appeared like a smoky spectre. He was a huge muscled man dressed in leather breeks tied at the ankles and wearing deer hide fur trimmed boots. His upper body was bare and pale and covered in thick black swirling tattoos. He wore what looked like a wolf skin pelt like a hood over his head; his eyes were otherworldly, pulsing with a purple vaporous tint from beneath his wolf mask. A thick golden rope torc hung around his bull thick neck. He stepped from the darkness clutching a long wicked iron tipped lance. He looked at the startled youngsters and grinned and from his mouth he uttered a thick hollow voiced chant, ‘Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!...

Then in the blinking of an eye he thrust his lance out, skewering Maise in the gut, and lifting her off the ground, he planted the butt of the lance firmly into the earth.

Maise hung impaled on the eight foot wooden pole her mouth opened and she screamed as her life blood poured from her wound and spluttered from her mouth. Her legs and arms jerked and kicked like some grotesque puppet as the realisation of her imminent death seeped into her terror frozen brain.

Then from the blackness of the opening two shadow hounds came leaping out with the same eerie luminous purple eyes and began jumping up at Maise as she kicked and struggled, their vile teeth ripping and tearing her flailing legs into bloody shreds. There was a sickening cracking sound as one of the devil dogs snapped a leg off just below the knee and began shaking its head violently from side to side playing with its grotesque toy.

Like a sudden slap to the face, Connor snapped out of his terror induced trance and grabbed Kerry by the arm as she just looked on trembling in abject terror at the horror of the situation.

‘Run!’ Was all Connor could say as he turned and ran. The five petrified friends ran for their lives from the peak of Sheebeg cairn, they ran like the wind down its slope, tripping and stumbling in the dark and picking themselves up and running away from the horror of the cairn spirits.

From the dark opening of Sheebeg cairn the clacking of hooves echoed and the excited whimpering and squealing of hounds echoed as misty figures erupted from the mouth of the cairn spewing out into the world of man; three wild barbaric horsemen with their shadow hounds emerged into the moonlight and raced down the hill hot on the heels of the terror stricken teenagers.

The wild hunt was on!

 

The wild hunt.

Connor ran for some trees dragging Kerry with him, he ducked behind an old twisted Oak; his breathing was fast and erratic. Kerry was whimpering and trembling uncontrollably. All around the howl of the shadow hounds echoed and the thudding of hooves shook the ground.

There was a scream and shouting, Connor peeked out from his hiding place. Rhiann was screaming as two of the hounds circled her snapping and barking wildly. Michael suddenly appeared with a branch from a tree; He tried to frighten the dogs away with great sweeping strikes. The dogs just growled and bared their fangs unwilling to flee from their easy prey.

Then a rider appeared and galloped straight at Michael, he didn’t stand a chance as the rider swung out from his hell horse’s back and knocked Michael out cold with a large club.

Rhiann fell to her knees and screamed hysterically. Then the rider turned on her and lassoed her with a rope and headed back up the hill dragging his screaming catch behind him. The two shadow hounds grabbed Michael’s body and began to drag him back to the cairn as easily as if he were made of straw.

Connor couldn’t see Shaun anywhere; he just hoped he had managed to escape this nightmare. Taking a deep breath, Connor grabbed, Kerry by the shoulders,

‘We have to make a break for it, we can’t stay here, they will find us for sure.’

Kerry shook her head trembling.

‘For fuck’s sake, Kerry we have to go, now!’ Gripping her hand tightly, Connor checked they were clear then broke cover and began to run not daring to look back.

Everything was a blur as the world whizzed by them as the two teenagers ran for their lives. Up ahead was a wire fence marking the end of the field boundaries, Connor knew that another one hundred yards and they would be on the road that lead back to Keshcarrigan.

His heart lifted slightly at the thought of home and safety.

A thundering sound rushed up behind Connor and then a dark shadow leaped over their heads, Connor ducked and came to a shuddering stop as a horse and rider landed in front of them.

The rider grinned down from his mount’s back; his face was covered in a stag’s mask with white bone antlers sprouting from his head. His purple eyes blazed with malice as he uttered in a guttural tone, ‘Crom Croo-ok!’

Kerry screamed, Connor turned to her then all went black and silent as he was clubbed over the head.

 

The Pit of Crom Croo-k.

Connor slowly became aware of a tingling pain in his wrists and an ache in his shoulders. He was also aware of a soft sobbing noise filtering through the misty darkness of his lethargic awakening senses.

Opening his eyes, Connor took in the horror of the scene that greeted him.

He was tied by the wrists to some kind of wooden frame, suspended inches off the floor.

In front of him was a large round pit perhaps twenty feet in diameter. About ten feet down inside of the pit a mass of writhing blood red worms undulated and slithered over each other. There must have been hundreds of them in the pit if not thousands.

The whimpering was coming from Rhiann to his left; she too was tied to a wooden frame as was Kerry, Michael and Shaun. Connor felt a sudden surge of embarrassment as they were all stripped naked, including him.

Connor looked at, Kerry suspended from the wooden post, her head hung forward, she was unconscious, but breathing. Connor swallowed hard as he looked upon her helpless naked body.

He had fantasised countless times about making love to her. And tonight was going to be that night everything had went perfectly. They had shared a couple of vodkas to relax them and Connor had even had a few puffs on some weed which was a big mistake. But now here he was only a few feet from her as she hung suspended on this god awful wooden frame, naked, hanging like a piece of meat in a butcher’s window.

It was the first time Connor had ever seen her naked and she was even more beautiful then he could have imagined she was perfect.

Connor dropped his eyes, he felt ashamed at looking at her and Rhiann in their vulnerability.

 

The thumping of the drums was constant echoing throughout this dimly flickering torch lit stone chamber. Then shadows appeared and two of the hooded warriors appeared, they walked around the tied up teenagers like they were inspecting them, then they stopped in front of Rhiann and pulled out some wickedly curved bronze blades from their belts.

Uttering the same phrase over and over again their hands moved so fast they were little more than a blur to the eye as the blades bit into Rhiann’s flesh.

Rhiann began jerking and writhing at her tethers and screaming an awful dirge as the warriors began carving some ancient Celtic design into the flesh of her abdomen.

Then one of them pulled a lever at the side of Rhiann’s  wooden frame, it jerked forward swinging her out over the pit and then without a seconds hesitation the warrior cut the rope.

Rhiann fell kicking and screaming into the pit of writhing blood worms.

Rhiann screamed a scream that was altogether otherworldly, for it was the anguish and terror of a lost soul, someone who knew that their death was imminent and their soul was damned for eternity.

Rhiann hit the slimy beasts with a sickening splurge. As she writhed about trying to claw her way out of the pit, she screamed in agony as the thumb thick worms began nipping and biting her and burrowing their way beneath her skin and forcing their way into every orifice of her naked body.

Michael unable to cope with watching his girlfriend’s torturous ordeal vomited and clenched his eyes tightly closed and sobbed like a new born baby.

As Rhiann pitifully reached out for help, her body slowly disappeared into the writhing mass of worms as they poured into her open mouth and down her throat muffling her pathetic screams, and all of the time the primal drums beat out their blood curdling rhythm and the bone whistles played their shrill sound as the cairn warriors chanted the same mol odious sound, ‘Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!...’

Suddenly, Connor was aware of something behind him, and then with expert hands the cairn warrior inserted his razor sharp bronze blade just underneath Connor’s flesh and began to slice off strips of his skin flaying him alive.

Connor screamed an ear piercing cry of demented torment and pain that echoed throughout the hollow hill as the primal drums far below beat out their heart thumping beat and the bone whistles blew their shrill soul destroying cacophony.

 Looking down at his feet, Connor saw the rivulets of blood flowing between his toes forming a sanguine pool below him as strips of his flesh were absently dropped to the floor with a slopping thud.

Connor’s body went limp as he fell into thankful unconsciousness.

 

Connor O’Donnell drifted back into consciousness; he opened his aching eyes and took in the horror of the stone chamber. His body was a tapestry of pain and his head throbbed beyond agony. Connor whimpered as he saw that both Shaun and Michael were gone, the wooden frames they had been tied to hung empty over the pit.

Tears ran down Connor’s face then in abject terror he lost control of his bladder. Only he and Kerry were left alive, but for how long? Suddenly from the depths of his mind anger began to rise bubbling to the surface of his psyche.

Connor suddenly began to struggle against his bonds, twisting and pulling his wrists against the ropes. His skin burned as he twisted and pulled against his restraints. It wasn’t long before his wrists were skinned and began to bleed, still, Connor tugged and gritted his teeth and growled as he fought against the rope bindings.

Then the impossible happened, his left hand began to slip through the knotted rope, Connor dug deep into his reserves then suddenly his arm dropped free.

The agonising pain that shot through his arm was unbearable, but Connor forced his cramping limb to move as his numbed fingers tried to untie his other hand.

After what seemed an age, Connor’s body fell to the stone floor in a trembling cramped heap. Slowly the teenager forced himself up, his eyes met Kerry’s as she slowly lifted her head up at his groaning noises. Tears streamed from her beautiful hazel eyes as she croaked,

‘Connor!’

Then the drums began again, Connor felt the terror rise in his gut at their barbaric beating sound. He knew the cairn warriors were returning for them, Connor’s eyes darted around the chamber then back to Kerry as she cried out his name in desperation begging to be untied and set free.

Connor turned and fled down a dimly lit corridor leaving Kerry behind.

Kerry screamed his name; her voice was full of despair and pleading. Connor ran down the passage disappearing into the darkness.

 

Crom Croo-ok: The god of the mound.

Connor suddenly came to a shuddering stop, his body was trembling, and his mind was racing with despair and guilt and fear swirling around inside of him like a tornado of emotional carnage.

Looking back down the passage, Connor sobbed, ‘Kerry...!’ before turning and running back toward the dreaded bloodworm pit.

Kerry’s sobbing was loud and pitiful as Connor approached the doorway to the pit, then suddenly he came to a halt and crouched down as two hulking figures passed by the entrance. The two warriors approached Kerry as she hung naked and defenceless before them; one of them stood in front of her and drew his curved bronze blade.

Kerry screamed in agony as the warrior’s hand moved in a blur as he cut into her soft white flesh, then to Connor’s horror he watched as the warrior grabbed a fistful of her  long red hair and began to rip it from her head, scalping her of her gorgeous red locks.

The awful ripping sound of her flesh being torn from her skull mingled with her pitiful screams washed over Connor shattering his soul and destroying his resolve. Connor slumped in the shadows and just watched helpless as the warrior flipped the lever sending Kerry dangling over the middle of the pit.

Connor was transfixed and frozen with terror as he looked at his beautiful, Kerry with her wickedly mutilated head bright red and streaming rivulets of blood down her face and between her breasts and down her stomach and legs and dripped into the pit.

A tremor suddenly shook the very walls of the pit; the two warriors fell to their knees as they chanted, ‘Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!...’

There came a deep burbling sound from the pit as a noxious cloud of heavy yellow gass flooded over  its lip and began to creep along the floor; it was the smell of death and decomposition of rotten meat and dead flesh, Connor felt himself gagging with the terrible smell making him back up down the corridor a little.

Then it emerged from the depths of the pit, oozing and undulating, a thing of hulking nightmare quivering in its vileness. It was a blood worm, huge and slime covered and pulsating like a gigantic maggot.  Its quivering body was covered in round wart like nodes like blow holes on a whale that blew out the cankerous yellow gas.

Its mouth, as such, was more like a huge quivering sphincter surrounded by long undulating tentacles ending in small curved hooks, which reached up and caressed Kerry’s dangling legs in some kind of obscene manner.

Crom Crouch the god of the mound was an abomination to life and nature, a thing of repulsive quivering nightmare, which did not belong in the modern world. Connor could not fathom what the creature was. Was it a throwback to some long forgotten primordial time? or something darker and malevolent, something not of this world at all?

Whatever it was it was an unrelenting god, a god of pure wickedness that fed upon the living flesh of the innocent, an eater of souls, a god of oblivion and terror, the master of chaos and blood.

 

Kerry screamed and kicked her legs about wildly at their filthy demonic touch as the slimy tentacles wrapped themselves around her legs and snake up her lithe young body, caressing her flat stomach and bare breasts, and forcing their way into her body in the vilest of ways, and then they began to nip and bite at her milky white flesh working their way under her skin.

Her flesh bulged and blistered as the tentacles burrowed into her body awakening it to pain she could have never imagined. Kerry’s screams intensified. Crom Crouch seemed to revel in her agony as the whole repulsive maggot-thing quivered orgasmically at her induced terror.

 Kerry was now convulsing as some of the tentacles burst from her flesh then began to burrow again into her body, as streams of blood poured from her wounds dripping into the sphincter of Crom Crouch’s gaping anal mouth.

Then eventually the obscene sphincter-like orifice of Crom Crouch’s mouth touched her feet and sucked them in to its quivering hole as the demonic maggot god slowly began to devour Kerry, swallowing her whole.

Kerry had gone into shock, her eyes rolled in her head, thankfully she was now unaware of her revolting fate as her torso then shoulders and neck and finally her head disappeared into Crom Crouch’s gullet as the beast trembled and burbled and slobbered with delectation at its human meal.

 

A  bid for freedom.

Connor would have vomited if he had anything left inside of him, his stomach cramped tightly as he watched his girlfriend’s body finally disappear , swallowed alive and whole into the obscene bloated abomination.

Connor’s mind snapped, any semblance of rational thought finally evaporated from his tortured mind. Connor turned and ran as the basic instinct for self preservation and survival exploded into his brain. He didn’t know where he was running to he just knew that he could not stop.

The corridors of the underground cairn twisted and turned like some kind of devilish maze, but Connor just kept running and bumping into walls and tripping but this did not stop him he picked himself up and kept on running.

Then suddenly up ahead in the darkness a cool breath of fresh air wafted. Connor pushed himself onwards.

Connor burst from the cairn into the pre-dawn light of the field outside, he ran past their campsite, the campfire was little more than a smouldering pile of ash. Connor ran down the hill and passed the trees. He ran like he had never ran before. He reached the farmers fence boundary and clambered over it falling on his face, and picking himself up he ran, then his bare bloodied feet hit tarmac, he was on the road leading to Keshcarrigan.

Then he heard it, the sound hooves clacking on the road behind him, Connor whimpered with terror but kept running, nothing was going to stop him running, nothing!

Then he stood on a small stone which bit deep into the bloody mess of his bare feet, Connor stumbled and fell, skinning his knees and hands. Behind him the clacking of hooves stopped as the loud snorting of the hell horse behind him told him his escape had failed.

Connor turned and looked at the horse and rider. The mounted warrior’s eyes blazed with malevolent intent as purple vapours poured from those hellish eyes, but what made Connor shriek was not those demon eyes or the hell horse rearing up on its hind legs as it kicked the air above his head, but it was Kerry’s scalped hair the warrior was wearing like some kind of sick Halloween wig or macabre trophy.

The warrior pointed his spear at Connor and growled, ‘Crom Croo-ok!’ then as he raised his spear for the killing blow; the warrior suddenly looked over Connor’s head as if something behind him caught its attention. With an angry growl the Rider and horse suddenly just turned to purple mist and dissipated leaving Connor alone trembling on the road.

Connor turned to see what the warrior had seen. It was the first rays of the dawn light breaking over the horizon and streaking across the sky. Halloween was over, the supernatural veil between the hellish spirit world and his own had once more been drawn closed.

 

Connor curled up in a ball and began sobbing and trembling.

 

And now the screaming starts.

October 31st five years later 11.50PM.

The disinfected gleaming corridors of Peamount sanatorium in Dublin were quiet apart from the squeaking sound of Nurse Tara Reagan’s rubber soles as she made her way back to the office after doing her night inspection.

Everyone was sound asleep, Tara was happy. She was half way through her gruelling twelve hour shift and needed to sit down and have a cup of tea and a couple of her favourite chocolate biscuits.

She had worked at the P.S.D for three months and liked her job; she had fallen quickly into a good routine and had got on well with the other staff members.  As she opened the door to the office, her co worker, Nurse Sally Donnelly was leafing through some papers, she looked up,

‘O’Donnell room 52, it says he needs to have a sedative injection before midnight tonight? Have you given him it?’

Nurse Reagan looked puzzled as she shook her head, ‘No! I didn’t know, he has never had one before not since I have been here. Anyway he is catatonic, why does he need a sedative?’

‘Apparently he only gets it on Halloween!’

Nurse Reagan looked puzzled, ‘Are you sure? Is it not an error or something?’

Nurse Donnelly double checked the paperwork and shook her head, ‘No! It’s genuine enough!’

‘How bizarre?’ Tara replied as she checked her watch. ‘Well its almost midnight best get the meds and go give him his injection.’

As the two nurses made their way to room 52, Tara asked, ‘So what’s his story, do you know?’

Nurse Sally Donnelly shrugged, ‘All I know is that he was a victim of some kind of weird satanic ritual. They cut some occult symbols into his back and it looked like they tortured the poor sod. Anyway he has never uttered a word since, and just sits in his wheel chair staring blankly into space.’

‘Christ, that’s awful, poor bloody kid.’ Nurse Reagan replied as they reached room 52.

As they opened the door, Connor O’Donnell looked up, the mist from his eyes cleared, he began to tremble and then the screaming started as the dull thumping of the drums began deep beneath the earth accompanied by the shrill shrieking of the bone pipes.

Connor screamed and huddled into a corner of the room as the floor in front of him gave way as the beating drums grew louder like thunder.

Then she appeared, crawling from the pit, her flesh had been stripped from her body, except for her face which looked like some kind of macabre mask. Kerry was a living breathing bloody cadaver with hazel eyes that burned into his skull as his girlfriend reached out to him.

‘Connor!... help me!....’ Her voice was pitiful and pleading, Connor scrambled away from her like a frightened mouse.

 

Nurse Reagan and Donnelly gave each other alarming glances as they watched, Connor cowering in a corner and screaming a shrill ear piercing cry.

‘For fucks sake! Sedate him before he has the entire place up and screaming with him.’ Sally Donnelly shouted.

As Connor tried to get away from Kerry, her eyes suddenly blazed a deep purple haze as she began to scream like a banshee.’

From a dark side corridor, Connor saw them coming for him, two purple eyed warriors holding their wicked bronze blades, Connor screamed.

The two nurses approached Connor trying to soothe him and calm him down, as Tara Reagan readied the syringe.

Connor lunged at the warrior as it raised the bronze blade and swung a punch; the warrior staggered backwards dropping the blade, Connor grabbed it up and dived at the figure, snarling like a wild animal.

Nurse Reagan fell to the ground her nose was broken and she felt nauseous from Connor’s punch. Before her or Sally could do anything, Connor lunged at Tara.

Connor gripped the bronze blade tightly as he plunged it into those devil purple eyes over and over again until there was nothing left but gaping bloody sockets.

Tara screamed and kicked then went limp as Connor drove the syringe deep into her eyes destroying them and pushing the syringe into her brain.

Sally panicked and ran for the door, slamming it closed behind her and flipping the lock just as Connor’s weight slammed into it behind her. Looking back through the small safety glass window, Sally stared into Connor’s contorted face as he howled and screamed like a possessed Wildman.

Sally pushed the emergency button by Connor’s door and waited for the emergency orderly team to arrive as Connor began head butting the glass and screaming the same phrase over and over again,

‘Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-k!... Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!... Crom Croo-ok!...’

 

Happy

Halloween!

 

 

 

 


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