Sweets for the Sweet

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's Halloween night, and Giselle couldn't be any more upset, especially when despite her warnings, a trio of bizzare children are at her doorstep.

Submitted: July 22, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 22, 2009



Nobody hated Halloween, the way Giselle did. The tacky decor, the cheap costumes, the swarm of children flocking to bowls of candy like heroin addicts to a needle; The poor girl just couldn't wrap her mind around it. She made it clear that her mature mind was above all the childish things Halloween embodied, as though her shapely body and pretty face weren't enough to prove to the world how much of a real woman she was. Not all hope was lost though, as she had created as mature a solution to the problem, as any 17 year old girl her age could; by locking herself in her room, letting her parents deal with the parasites below.

Just as she was to begin the annual routine, she was stopped halfway up the stairs from her father.

"Whoa, hold on there kid-do" her father called from below. Giselle knew she wasn't going to like this, especially when she saw their attire. Her mother had managed to fit her silicone enchanced body into a tight skimpy Nurse suit; one of those cheap adult costumes complete with a v neck to the navel, skirt that stopped at her hips, and a freshly squeezed blood capsule between false vampire teeth. Her Father on the other hand was a giant orange ball. "You're probably wondering why we're dressed like this aren't you?"

"What's to wonder." She replied in her usual monotone voice (the first sign of irratation) "Mom's a nurse from slutsville local hospital, and your an infected left testicle."

Her Father sighed. "I'm an uncarved pumpkin, thank you. Your mother and I are off to the Monster Mash party at the country club."

Good, she said to herself, those pests wont even be at the door.

"So we're leaving the candy bowl with you tonight."Fan-freaking-tastic.

"We wont be back till late tonight honey. Your mother's going to be drinking tonight, so call me if you need anything, or all you'll get is that slurred version of the Gettysburg address she gives whenever she's tipsy. We expect that candy bowl to be empty too, when we come back."

“But the garbage truck doesn't come till wednesday morning.”

Her father sighed again “Thats not what I meant, Giselle.”

“I know what you meant. I'm just not doing it.”

“Its not that difficult anyways, they knock, say trick or treat, you give them the candy and its done. What are you worried about?”

“No dad, its never that simple, not with them. You give them one piece of candy, and they start to play their little mind-games forcing you to give more, and when you try not to, they purposely annoy you into drinking, just so they can get their little hands on more candy. Then you're left without any candy, so now all of the other children get pissed and they cry, their parents get upset, and then the angry children egg-rape your house. That is why I'm not doing it. Thats why I never do it. Thats I why I never will, and nothing you do can change that. Do you want to live in an egg-raped house? Because I don't, personally.” After two whole run-on sentences, and a series of declarative statements, you'd think she'd have won the battle.

"No I wouldn't want to live an 'egg-raped' house. You're absolutely right. Well I guess then since you don't have anything better to do, we'll just have you babysit the Henderson's triplets."

The white flag was raised! "Fine. I'll stay here and pass out the candy."

"That's my girl, handling things like an adult."

The moment they left the house, Giselle handled her dilemma in such a grown-up way, it would put parents acrossAmerica to shame. She drew up a sign reading; "NO CANDY! GET LOST!" and hung it outside the front door, handling it like an adult indeed. The sign had worked effectively all night, as not a single knock or "trick or treat" came from the front door. She began to eat out of the candy bowl herself satisfying her own repressed sugary lust as well as sticking it to those annoying children whom she'd never have to face tonight.

Knock, knock, knock.

It was nothing. It had to have been. No-one would have to never to ignore her sign.

Knock, knock, knock.

She stormed from the couch, and swung the door open.

It was a girl; a puny little girl, who couldn't have been any older than 6. She wore an old tattered and faded pink dress complete with frills running about the rims stained in dirt. Her legs were hugged by torn up pink tights. Upon her face was a mask whose rosy cheeks and red lip paint had begun to fade with age. A series of branch-like cracks about the the sides confirmed it's poor condition.

"What the hell do you want?" Giselle asked. "You see the sign? Its there for a reason. As in the reason being; get lost." The little girl apparently failed to get the message.

"Trick-or-treat" she murmured, holding out an old pillowcase.

"You've got to be kidding me."

She wasn't. the girl hadn't moved an inch, and kept staring into Giselle's eyes. Something wasn't right about this girl; her eyes had caught the shimmer of the porch light and revealed a sort of animalistic hunger, wide and unblinking. Could it be that a shiver had gone down Giselle's spine? No, it couldn't have been. This is was just a little girl. A puny, obnoxious, illeterate girl. Just then, a new tactic was brewing in Giselle's scheming head.

“You know what?” she said as her eyes grew wide and a massive smile whipped her lips in a voice so overtly friendly the girl could have mistook it for sarcasm “I think I'll get you some candy, now that I think about it. Let me just go into the back and I'll get you a whole bag of chocolates and all the other sugary goodness you kids are into these days, wait here, ok?” The little girl nodded with excitement, jumping ever so frantically at Giselle's offer as she slammed the door shut and locked it.

If you didn't figure it out by now, it was, in fact, sarcasm, and Giselle couldn't have been any more proud of herself. That'll show those brats who's the boss she thought to herself as she gobbled down another handful of sweet delicious candy that those little brats could only fantasize about. She never found herself as drawn to these sweets as before. Maybe it was all those years that she had forgotten the sweet pleasure of the chocolate caramel goodness lining her lips coming to an end, or perhaps it was just that simple and satisfying sensation inside her of winning another battle against those children.

Knock, knock, knock.

Are you serious?

Knock, Knock, Knock.

In a fit of rage, the door was swung open. "I thought I told you to..."

There was another this time ; same height, same dirty condition, only this one appeared to be a little boy costumed from the neck down in a ridiculously polka-doted one-piece suit, almost like a fat pair of pajamas. His sleeves, pant legs, and neck were bordered by vibrant cuffs that managed to drown even his ludicrously oversized shoes. His mask, too, was cracking from old age and hid his entire face beneath a pale perpetual laugh with red cheeks, purple eye lids, and great, big, red nose. Great. It's a clown.

"Well, looks who clowning around" she began in her sarcastic tone once again. "You must be a really funny clown, because even though there's a sign saying there's no candy, you're still here next to a little girl that won't leave me alone."

"Trick-or-Treat" the clown boy murmured. He too, brought up an old, dirty pillowcase. Giselle was beginning to loose what little of her good humor she had left. Now, she was stuck with two little brats at her doorstep.

"Ok, I know all of you kids like jackassing this time of year, but this is ridiculous, because unlike the other conservative retired people who put up with it, I'm not one of them. So you might as well go home now, because it's not cute." The two remained motionless staring hungrily at Giselle with their arms thrust forward holding out their pillowcases, vainly waiting for the gift she was denying them.

“Trick-or-Treat” they both murmured at once. She had once again shut the door on those little demons she held with such disdain and scorn. Was this night really happening, she thought to herself. Did the whole world have a baby boom of retards overnight? She answered her buzzing cellphone.


It was her mother “Four...Score and Seven..years ago...Shit, I think I'm gonna puke.”


“Honey,” Her fathers voice had come through. “Hand me the phone. Hello, Princess, hows the night been?”

“Fine, aside from these two nitwits that won't leave the door.”

“Did you give them their candy?”

“And risk egg-raping the house? Did we not go over that?”

“Giselle, we go through this every year, just give them the candy. Egg yolks are washable anyway.”

“No dad, I'm not doing it.”

Knock, Knock, Knock.

“Why cant you just grow up and give them candy."

Knock, Knock, Knock.

“Shut up!”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Oh not you dad, they're at the door again.”

“Have you been serving any candy?”

Knock, Knock, Knock.

“If we found out you just stayed inside all night, you're grounded, hear me? Grounded.”

Knock, Knock, Knock.

“God Dammit!” she shouted as she fiercely swung the door open.

“What the Fu-” She had just stopped her greeting halfway.

“Giselle?” Her father asked.

“Dad, I'll call you back.” She hung up.

They were cops this time, two tall officers in uniform, almost like statues, set against the backdrop of their flashing police car. “Good Evening, ma'am.” the first cop said as he tipped his hat, speaking with a charming southern drawl. “Are you parents home?”

“No, sir, their out for the evening at some dumb halloween party.”

“Must be the Country Club uptown” his comrade suggested, his drawl less the charming.

“Yeah, thats the place. They won't be back for while. What seems to be the problem, officer?”

“Nothing too dire ma'am.” the first officer replied. “Just doing a routine checkup on the neighborhood, tonight. Making sure everything is in order."

"Oh christ, quit sugar-coating the damn thing." his comrade said.

"Earlier this evening, a few break-ins were reported in this neighborhood. Rather sloppy though, and nothing of any significant value. Just some candy is all they took, really. Probably just a few teenagers having a little too much fun. Nobody hurt or anything like that fortunately. They were all empty houses anyways."

"Why thank you officer," Giselle's discreet sarcasm was seeping out once again "I'll be sure to lock up my door and let you know if I see anything odd happening."

"You've got it, ma'am. Thank you very much." The officer's smile was mirrored by Giselle's. The only difference was that one was faking the other.

She shut the door again and flopped on the couch. Great, now I have to worry about petty thieves now. At least those cops scared off those ki-

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Please let this be the cops, Please let this be the cops.

It wasn't.

They're were three of them this time. Their new friend was draped entirely in a wet rotting shroud with frayed edges and a tight old rope around his waist. His cloak just barely drowned his poorly painted and cracking skull mask in shadows. Just like the others, his tiny pale hands held out an old pillowcase.

"Trick-or-Treat" all three murmured.

"Alright. I've been more than nice to you little brats and yet you're still testing my patience. I get the joke, I got the joke, hours ago. It was cute then, but now its not. So you either get off of my lawn now and screw with somebody else, or I call the police who, in fact, were already and I'm not afraid to get again!"

As was expected, her threat was unnoticed as all three stood staring at her and repeated those same three words. "Trick-or-Treat"

"No! God Dammit! Do you know english?

"Trick-or-Treat. Trick-or-Treat."

"Thats it! I'm calling the police!" She marched back inside and got the phone furiously dialing the police department number. her phone responded "We're sorry, you're phone service is temporarily unavailable due to missed payment this month." It worked 5 minutes ago dammit!

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The knocking had started to echo loud and abruptly inside her shrinking skull. Here she was with a useless phone, cut off from the rest of the world listening to each knock that was pushing her closer to the edge.

Knock. knock. Knock.

"No, I'm not answering!" Now she was screaming out loud. How much longer could she last before her sanity reached it's-

Knock. knock. knock.

Too late. "You want candy you bastards?" Giselle had lost any and all good humor she had lad left. At that second, all of the anger, scorn, and bitterness had been thrust into a great whirlwind inside her tight boiling skull. She grabbed the bowl of candy, flung the door open and shoved every last piece of candy in her mouth right in front of the three children. Chewing up bits and pices, quickly and disgustingly in front of them, all time stopping for her few moments of guiltless gluttony. One piece remained in her mouth until she finally spit it out on the ground in front of them. A wet and chewed up bit of chocolate was the aftermath of her fury. The bowl itself was flung from her hand striking the mask of the miniature grim reaper and crashing down to the ground “Happy Halloween, you stupid Fucks!” She slammed the door for the last time.

They had known impoliteness before, but this one had crossed the line. Who did she think she was anyways? On one hand, denying them their sweets, and secondly, having the gaul to make them watch as she devoured each morsel before their own eyes. Now the children were angry, and they were determined to have their sweets, by any means necessary. No one else denied their innocent trick-or-treating, or stopped them from breaking into those empty houses. So, who was going to stand between them and this living Scrooge? It was time for their sweets.

* * * *

Giselle woke up from her nap in the utter darkness of the house, save for the soft glow from her cable box. The lights were out, so mom and dad had to have been home by now. It's over, Halloween is over. A feeling of relief and joy came over Giselle that moment, as she decided to reward herself with a nice hot shower. She relaxed her body in comfort of the steaming water, putting to ease the stress that had built up inside her. She stepped out and wrapped the towel around her warm wet body. She stayed in the open doorway for only a moment longer, soaking up the rest of the humid steam that still lingered. Still in her towel, she flopped on the couch, drifting back into her solemn peace.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Something had disturbed her peace.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Something that was tapping.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Maybe Mom and Dad were still outside. She started for the door.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The Tapping wasn't coming from the door. It was coming from the back of the house; back in the living room window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The window that was draped beneath a great curtain. The curtain concealing whatever was tapping. Tapping at the window at midnight on Halloween. She tried to flicker a light switch, but their was no response. It was as if everything around her had stopped. Time had stopped dead in it's tracks.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Whatever it was, it was still taping at the window. Here she was half-naked, defenseless, and for the first time, utterly afraid.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Open it giselle.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Open it.


Harold had put his wife down on the bed, too tired and buzzed to take her out of her costume. He, too, neglected to remove his and flopped on the bed, joining his passed out wife in the calm darkness. Sleep was eminent until a drop of water had hit his face. Must be a leak from the rain he thought, until he realized there wasn't a single storm that whole night. The dripping seemed thicker than water, and a bit warmer too. Oh God, please don't let it be sewage. He flicked on the lights. Pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.

My room's not beneath a bathroom. He started up the stairs. It's under Giselle's room. He made his way up, and saw Giselle's door at the end of the hall. The lights were still on, and he just barely made out the sound of other people talking. She probably left the T.V. on again.

"Giselle" He began as he opened the door. "Didn't I tell yo-"

Giselle didn't leave the T.V. on again. "Oh my god...giselle..."

He froze. What else could he have done? Her body was lying there upon the ground, bare naked as her stomach had been ripped open by hand, blood oozing and flowing from her open wound creating a puddle round itself thick enough to drip through the floor. Even from her mouth, dark, crimson streams were flowing down her head into her wide open eyes, crooked from her broken neck. only then did the father realize the liquid upon his face he frivolously wiped away. He ran in terror which only made things easier for the children.Those three little children; Doll, Clown, and Reaper. All were giddy, wearing proud smiles upon their decaying and skinless faces. This was the one night of the year that death allowed them back into the world to collect their sweets, and every year they were determined to collect as much as they could. They knew this year was probably their most successful yet. It was painted in the warm red blood stained upon their yellow rotting teeth and dying lips. Even though, Giselle herself, made an excellent meal, they pressed on, chewing, gnawing, and eating their way for the sweets to be found within her stomach.

© Copyright 2019 Ren Pearson. All rights reserved.

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