A man stood outside, the air was thick but he still managed to breath deep breathes, in and out.
He liked when the nights were like this, when it was dark and the moon was hidden behind barely visable clouds.
The man slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heel, back and forth, only a little so he didn't fall.
There was a sudden pick of the wind that nearly caused him to fall, instead he stumbled back, quickly regaining his footing.
That pick up of wind was unusual, but it still did not stir in his mind.
So again he looked from his porch onto the field ahead of him, and sighed.
Alone. He shook his head. On the deep dark nights of halloween.
No kid ever ventured out past the woods that held him back from the world - or, to them, led to the evil man's house.
So whenever halloween came, he was alone.
He gave the slightly visable moon one last look before slamming his door behind and walking into his quiet house.
The man fell into his arm chair and turned on the TV, flicking through various amounts of shows and films, scary films, that had something to do with halloween.
The man rolled his eyes, not afraid of this jibber-jabber.
He stopped on one movie, a scene where a girl was having her throat cut.
Suddenly he felt something on his throat, but when he looked down there was nothing there.
Stop freaking out.
But it had felt so real, and so cold, like the blade of knife.
The man shivered and realised a windown was open. He couldn't be bothered to close it, so he flickered onto another channel.
Nope, nothing on.
He switched off his television and sat in silence. In thought.
How had he become so alone?
But he didn't ponder upon it, so he got up and went to his fridge.
A note was stuck on it.
'The wind may get chilly tonight.'
That. Just that.
The words meant nothing to the man, so he ripped it off. Though he didn't remember righting it, he convinced himself that he had and that he'd just forgotten.
That was when things became weird.
The lights flickered constantly and the wind picked up, sending a gust of cold wind right through the house.
The man shivered, his eyes big from fear. Never had he been this scared in his life time.
The wind seemed to be pulled him and he fell to the groud, fear in his eyes as he was dragged by the wind.
A scream left his mouth, but it only filled the empty field in which his house was placed.
He kicked, but the wind was all around him, tearing as his limbs and biting his felt.
He felt it. The piercing pain in his body told him so.
Then it all died down and he was left panting, looking around the room.
He jumped up and started to frantically move around, grabbing anything he could.
Once he finally thought he had everything, he went for the door. Nothing.
He grabbed it, over and over again but it wouldn't budge. He kicked it and a gust of wind open the door, so the man was pushed onto the floor.
It felt like he was being weighed down, like a 300 pound man was lying on top of him.
His screams were small as the air was being taken from him.
His eyes were sticking out of his sockets.
The wind seemed to have a smile to it as they released the weight of the guy, but still pinned him down.
The wind had a change of plan and it clawed frequently at the man's throat, causing him to scream, then shout, then whimper.
And finally gurgle as his blood clogged his throat.
The man was broken, bits of him turned to shred, blood in a pool on the floor.
The bite marks on him looked lion like and the pain that ran through his body was worst enough.
There was still fear in his eyes.
Something ran through him at that moment, right through his mouth and down into his body.
Sucking the last of him.
Killing him like a lethal injection. His body shook and his eyes rolled back and he bled from inside out.
It was a horrible sight.
Once the wind was done, it retreated, happy it had been fed.
It closed the door behind it and ventured out again.
Waiting for it's next lonely, innocent prey.
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