A Creepy Halloween

A STORY~

It was late in the disconsolate night when it begun. If it hadn’t been for the gale probably, Rose wouldn’t have woken up. Or rather regained. She looked around, but found herself lying in a commodious and unnerving clearing with not even a sign of plants or even a living being except for Rose herself.

She shivered when the breeze blew her hair. It was then she realized that she was still wearing her Halloween costume, or rather a wet Halloween costume.

Rose—taking the ground’s support—stood up, immediately failing. Soon, her teeth started chattering in her mouth. She racked her head for the recent events.

Where am I? Wasn’t today Halloween? And if it was why am I doing here?

Her head started spinning, as she stood up again, managing to do so with a tree’s merciful support. And that’s when she heard it. The sounds of an animal—it was agonizing—crying in pain. Rose started limping towards the center of the clearing with what was left of her body strength.

The cries grew more and more and soon she had to pick up her pace. And sure enough—to Rose’s relief—she saw the clearing ending into a dense forest. She limped as fast as she could, entering the forest.

The animal cried again, as if anticipating her proximity. Rose knew she would reach soon. It took every part of her willpower and strength to not to lay down on the forest floor and cry like the anonymous pained animal.

The forest had another—but this time small and green—clearing. Rose hurried to the clearing, but froze when she saw what lay in front of her.

A wolf. An ugly ferocious wolf lay in front of her, in the middle of the small clearing. It was crying, now howling in agony. There was a big sword that went straight through it’s heart and one could actually see the other end also.

A chill ran down Rose’s spine and she shivered. She wanted to move—no get out; run away—but something stopped her. With some unknown force she somehow stepped forward towards the wolf.

 The wolf, however, seemed to notice her just now. And now, it howled louder making Rose shiver once more. Yet, she kept closing in. Now the wolf seemed afraid and started whimpering to the end of the clearing.

No, don’t!

She nearly could’ve shouted those words at the poor animal, but suddenly it turned. Turned on Rose. She didn’t understand the move until it growled. Now the agony and pain seemed to vanish from the wolf.

Now the roles had reversed. The wolf kept closing in and Rose kept stepping back. She almost tripped on a stone but balanced and picked up her pace.

The sword struck into the wolf, slowed it, but not enough for Rose to escape easily. Gaining her ground, she slowly stepped back, realizing that soon it would lose patience. Soon, they were well covered in the canopies of the trees.

Rose hated herself for dressing up as a “cute princess” since the floor-touching gown made her slower. They were even, however. As she had expected the wolf lost its tolerance more and more and soon it was hounding (as best it could with both of their conditions) her.

As they came into the forest’s heart, Rose tried to think of a tactic as to subdue her opponent. But, no. the wolf, had brains (according to Rose, at least). It jumped on her as soon as she started to slow down.

  

Rose’s heart sank along with her knees into the mud. Great. A wolf-human fight. The wolf, undoubtedly, soon had her pinned to the forest floor. Now, only God knew, how fast her mind spun.

The wolf was, without hesitation, going to tear her apart. It brought its jaw—hungry jaw—closer to Rose’s face, and Rose closer to her death.

It was then, that she did it. The wolf had its guard down, being busy in trying to savior his “prey”. Taking that as an advantage, she pulled the sword out from the wolf, making it holler in pain. Soon enough, it was on the ground—which was bloody. Again the roles reversed.

Now, Rose could easily kill the wolf. She had won this. But somehow, she couldn’t get herself—and the sword—down to kill it.

Come on, Rose. It is now or never. Falter, and you’ll die!

She was about to strike the wolf when another thought came to her.

No. Don’t, don’t kill it. What did it do to you?

And soon, she was fighting with a stream of questions. Questions without answers. Adrenaline was running through her as the wolf made the slightest movement, but again howled in agony, making her flinch—and the real truth hit her. This was no child’s game, she had to kill it, no matter how wounded and vulnerable it looked—it was still a threat not only to her, but also to the rest of the world.

No, I will do this. I will. Yes, I will.

And as soon as she was this close to killing it, she fell. Where? She just fell. Not on the ground, not in a hole. She just kept falling. Just fell.

Rose screamed as the breeze turned violent and soon she was consumed by a cyclone of her own thoughts.

And then she actually fell. Fell, to the floor. Of her room back in Montana.