Archive for the ‘Halloween’ Category

This October, a friend on Twitter invited me to participate in #31DaysofHorror, in which you strive to watch one horror movie each day. Initially, I thought I would participate here and there, as I could. I should have known better. Once I started, I became obsessive as I always do. After the Nightmare on Elm Street in theater marathon added 7 movies to my total in one night, I decided to go for 50 movies in the month of October.

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And I got to 51.

Honestly, it was a blast. It was a lot of horror. Daunting at times, mind eroding at others. Yet ultimately, it was fun to indulge in so much of the holiday horror spirit and be able to share it with plenty of awesome people online. My poor, little mind may never recover, but I will definitely be doing it again next year. Probably even harder, if I know myself at all.

So I give you my 51 movies of horror in October. Happy Halloween!

 

 1_wyrmwood Wyrmwood

A bunch of interesting ideas that lacked the execution to really make them work. I wanted to like it, but it needed more development and polishing.

 2-cabininthewoods Cabin in the Woods

One of my favorite horror movies. A refreshing spin on horror lore, archetypes, and the genre in general.

 3-wearestillhere We are Still Here

Simplistic, well executed horror. A well balanced and creepy haunting story.

 4-28dayslater 28 Days Later

A movie that changed the zombie genre. Always amazing.

 5-28weekslater 28 Weeks Later

The overproduced and Americanized sequel that pales in comparison to its predecessor. Fine movie, disappointing sequel.

 6_ghostsofmars Ghosts of Mars

Bad, just so very bad. But I do love John Carpenter. And Ice Cube.

 7_headless Headless

We found this movie on a list of most disturbing horror. It was definitely graphic and gross and depraved–but all with purpose. I really enjoyed it.

 8_humancentipede2 Human Centipede 2

More graphic,  more twisted, and more disturbing than its predecessor. Who knew it was possible? Yet still well done.

 9_humancentipede3 Human Centipede 3

What. The. Fuck. The franchise completely went off the rails into ridiculous and just awful.

 10_whatwedointheshadows What We Do in the Shadows

Interview with the Vampire meets The Real World. Just hysterical and wonderful.

 11_yourenext You’re Next

One of my favorite newer horror movies. So well done and all about the survivor.

 12_thepurgeelectionyear The Purge: Election Year

Perfect watch for this election year. Chock full of social commentary and blood.

 13_letmein Let Me In

Potentially my favorite remake. I adore Let the Right One In, and this one manages to live up to it.

 14_thefog The Fog

Creepy and classic.

 15_vhs V/H/S

A very clever horror anthology that made me nauseous. With the shaky cam filming rather than the content.

 16_finalgirls The Final Girls

A horror comedy I have loved since first seeing it at The Stanley Film Festival.

 17_hanselandgretel Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters

I was very skeptical of this selection but found it gory and very fun.

 18_nightmare A Nightmare on Elm Street

Just as brilliant as it is classic. This one may contain my favorite death scene in ALL of horror.

 19_freddy2 A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge

The homoerotic sequel that does not make a whole lot of sense.

 20_freddy3 A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

The second best in the franchise; the sequel that should have followed the first.

 21_freddy4 A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master

Eh. An acceptable chapter.

 22_freddy5 A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child

Terrible. Just TERRIBLE. I only watched it because it was in the theater in the middle of the marathon. I would have napped through if I didn’t have so many Monsters.

 23_freddy6 Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare

The humor is on point, and Freddy is awesome, but the rest of the movie was just crap.

 24_freddy7 New Nightmare

I am utterly torn on this one. I love when horror makes fun of itself, and the premise is clever. Plus a great cast reunion! Yet I hate what they did to Freddy when he leaves the screen.

 25_freddyvjason Freddy vs Jason

A great Freddy movie. Just fun.

 26_feast Feast

Funny and creepy and gross but enjoyable.

 27_inthemouthofmadness In the Mouth of Madness

Amazing. Required for both horror fans and writers (like myself).

 28_theguest The Guest

Unnerving and well balanced. A perfect blend of suspense.

 29_vhs2 V/H/S 2

The entries in this anthology might be inferior to the first collection, but the filming did not make me sick, which made it easier for me to participate and enjoy.

 30_evildead2 Evil Dead 2

When the franchise really embraced itself.

 31_armyofdarkness Army of Darkness

A little bit of ridiculous fun with the undead.

 32_dragmetohell Drag Me to Hell

Campy and gross. Very fun.

 33_americanmary American Mary

Sexy horror and depraved fetish. Basically, me in a nutshell. One of my very favorite movies.

 34_otis Otis

Funny and twisted. When revenge becomes a family affair.

 35_talesofhalloween Tales of Halloween

Not the best Halloween anthology I have seen (clue: it’s Trick r Treat) but still a festive watch.

 36_deadsnow Dead Snow

Nazi zombies. Nazi. Zombies! So good.

 37_vhsviral V/H/S Viral

I hated the final chapter in the franchise. It’s like the filmmakers got financing and did not know what to do with it.

 38_halloween Halloween

The Halloween classic that started it all.

 39_halloween2 Halloween II

A direct continuation of the first.

 40_halloweenh20 Halloween H20

The third and only other entry I recognize in the Halloween franchise. I love watching Laurie decide to face her demons.

 41_candyman Candyman

Clever twists on the haunting convention.

 42_leslievernon Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

Absolutely brilliant horror comedy that comes after every horror convention and archetype.

 43_theconjuring The Conjuring

As my husband always says, creepy as balls. And balls can be pretty creepy.

 44_thereanimator The Re-Animator

The B-rated Lovecraftian classic.

 45_scream Scream

My VERY first horror movie!

 46_scream2 Scream 2

I am still accepting that they killed Randy.

 47_scream3 Scream 3

I do like the jabs at horror and Hollywood, but really? What?

 48_scream4 Scream 4

My favorite of the sequels. I like the critique of nouveau horror and reboots.

 49_saw Saw

Another genre changer. Gritty and raw and original.

 50_silenceofthelambs The Silence of the Lambs

One of my favorite movies (not just horror). Hannibal Lecter is the best serial killer.

 51_trickrtreat Trick r Treat

THE Halloween movie. This film embodies everything I love about the holiday in one anthology. Our post trick-or-treating tradition.

What horror movies did you watch in October? Any Halloween traditions? What’s your favorite scary movie?

 

Christina Bergling

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Two survivors search the ruins of America for the last strain of humanity. Marcus believes they are still human; Parker knows her own darkness. Until one discovery changes everything.

Available now on Amazon!
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TheWaning_CoverThe Waning

Beatrix woke up in a cage. Can she survive long enough to escape, or will he succeed at breaking her down into a possession?

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thewaning.com

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As the sun retreated from the sky and the last rays of light died in the air, Marla’s small body began to materialize on top of the cracked asphalt. Her hips appeared first, the round bulbs of her pelvis spiraling out of obscurity as spinal vertebrae sprouted to climb up to her shoulders and bare skull. The tiny skeleton curled on the street in the fetal position, with her eye socket rooted to ground.

The skeletal fingertips twitched and jerked against the rough blacktop as the skull softly swayed side to side. As the bones began to animate, muscle and flesh blossomed along their edges like moss, overtaking the form as veins and arteries snaked up through the tissue. Hair budded from the fresh scalp until the wily mass of strands draped over Marla’s little shoulders.

Within seconds of dusk, the entire child body returned to the street, complete with the torn clothes. She lifted her head slowly from the pavement, her ejected eye clinging to the ground before popping up to dangle along her shredded cheek. Her right hand flopped half detached as it dropped from her bloody forearm. She stood on crooked legs with flaps of flesh shaved down and hanging over her knees.

Marla stood straight in her broken body, eye wagging with each movement, under the growing moonlight. The headlights of a large truck blazed up over her. She turned the eye still in her head to the vehicle before it drove through her in a swirling puff of steam. The edges of her form wavered before snapping back into shape.

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Marla turned unaffected by the truck driving through her, or the staggered series of cars that followed. She moved instinctively to the southwest corner just as she did every year. She stepped onto the curb, with one shoe on and one bare, scraped foot, as the contorted figure of her mother shambled toward her through the streetlight.

Abigail’s head cocked at an extreme angle, and her spine warped in sympathy. Blood had poured from her gaping headwound, drenching her face and clothes in a waterfall of red. Her feet splayed out in divergent directions, causing her to hobble even slower than the twisted corpse of her daughter.

“Hello, my beautiful girl,” Abigail whispered in a rasp as she wrapped her arms around her shattered child. “Welcome to our night.”

“I missed you, Mommy,” Marla said as she cuddled into her mother’s blood-soaked sweater.

“I missed you, beautiful.”

Abigail took Marla’s destroyed face in her hands, allowing the suspended eyeball to roll along her palm. Marla smiled sweetly with the facial muscles she had left.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mommy.”

“I’m sorry, baby. If I had known you hadn’t buckled your seatbelt, I would have never left the parking lot.”

“You don’t have to say that every year, Mommy.”

“You just had to get a new costume that night.”

“The one I had looked stupid.”

“No, it didn’t, but I wanted you to have a good Halloween.”

“It’s OK, Mommy. We can have another good Halloween tonight.”

“What should we do tonight?”

“I want to go see Daddy and Jakey.”

“No, baby. We don’t go see them.”

“Why not?”

“The same as every year. We don’t know how long it has been. It would make me sad to go and see Jake all grown up or your daddy as a grandpa.”

“It hasn’t been that long. Jakey will still be little. Just like when we left.”

“We don’t know that, Marla. We don’t go see them. Now, come now. Let’s do something fun.”

“Can we borrow bodies?” Marla perked up, and the tear in her cheek deepened as she grinned.

“Oh, that sounds like fun. What do you want to do with them?”

“I want to go trick-or-treating! But, this year, I want to be the momma and you be the kid.”

“Are you sure? It’s way more fun to be the kid.”

“No. It’s better to be the grown up.”

“That’s what all kids think. Until they become grown ups. But I suppose you never have to worry about that.”

“I still want to be the momma.”

“OK, baby, you can be the momma. You can even pick the bodies.”

“Yay!”

Marla leaped in excitement then took her mother’s hand in her attached arm, her other hand waggling loosely on threads of traumatized flesh. The two mangled forms moved unseen through the darkness as scurrying trick-or-treaters began to flood the streets.

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Marla let her eye move over each group of figures in the night. The child body would have to be young to still have an adult escort. She watched a parade of tiny princesses march down the sidewalk, mothers snapping pictures with their phones like paparazzi. She looked over a group of unchaperoned tweens running by giggling under their masks.

Finally, she caught sight of a young boy marching down the street. He smiled euphorically under his pirate’s eyepatch, swinging a hefty bucket of candy at his side. Behind him, his mother weaved absentmindedly as her eyes fixated down on the glowing screen of her phone. She gripped a large travel coffee mug tightly with the other hand, taking compulsive sips every couple steps.

“Them,” Marla said, pointing confidently, knowing the living could not see her.

“The pirate and his mom?”

Marla nodded enthusiastically, her hanging eye bouncing up and down.

“Well, I’ve never been a pirate before,” Abigail laughed. “OK, darling, you know what to do.”

Marla stepped in the path of the distracted mother and placed her palms together out in front of her. As the woman turned Marla’s fingertips into mist, Marla swung her arms, as if swimming in the water, and dove right into the mother’s chest. Somewhere behind her, Abigail did the same to the young pirate.

“This feels weird, Mommy…I mean, son,” Marla said moving her arms in the strange new skin.

The living flesh felt awkward, heavy, confining. Marla and Abigail took a moment to shift and fidget, finding their bearings locked back under the bars of the bones. Marla took an awkward step forward and nearly toppled over. She realigned herself over her feet and brought the hefty cup to her lips. The acidic taste of the liquid bit her tongue, and she immediately spat it out.

“Eeww! What is this?” Marla held the cup out to her mother in the pirate costume.

Abigail reached the young boys hand’s forward and took a sip.

“Oh,” Abigail said, knowingly. “That is not coffee at all. That’s wine.”

“Wine? Why would she have wine in a coffee mug?”

“Because being the kid is more fun, dear,” Abigail laughed.

The two moved forward in staggering steps until walking became more familiar. With each passing house, they moved more naturally until they strode like all the other living people. They approached the next house with the porch light on and hesitated at the base of the driveway.

“What is it?” Marla asked, awkwardly juggling the coffee mug and oversized smartphone.

“I haven’t trick-or-treated in decades. Even in decades when I was alive. I’m nervous, I think.”

“That’s silly, Mommy. Son. Just go up there; ring the bell; and say, ‘Trick or treat!’”

“OK, I’m going.”

“What do I do?”

“While I trick-or-treat?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes. You follow me and stand here waiting for me. That’s it. Just don’t drink that cup. You’re having enough trouble walking in that body already.”

“Maybe the kid does have all the fun.”

“Told you.”

Marla watched her mother toddle up the concrete in the little pirate body and stood drumming her fingers on the cup she was not supposed to drink. When Abigail disappeared around the edge of the house, Marla took a deep sip on defiant principle then winced as it burned down her throat and pooled heat in her stomach.

Marla would never grow up to understand adults.

She turned the cup over and dumped the wine in the street. The red liquid looked just like all the blood that had poured out from her head when she went careening through the windshield so many Halloweens ago.

“That was weird,” Abigail laughed as she skipped back with a heavier bucket.

They moved house to house, repeating the same pattern around dark, curved blocks. With each stop, Marla grew more anxious. She tapped the mother’s toe on the hard ground. She crossed her arms and wished she knew how to operate the phone she shoved into her back pocket. Other children began to grow scarce on the street.

“I think that’s enough now, Mommy,” Marla said. “I mean, son.”

“Oh, come on. I can get this kid even more candy. Look at all the porch lights on that street.”

“No, I don’t want to anymore.”

“Not having any fun, beautiful?”

“Next year, I want to be the kid again.”

“I thought you might say that.”

Abigail smiled and took Marla’s hand, strange in the reversal of the angle.

“Well, let’s go put them back where we got them, and we’ll have a little time before our night is over,” Abigail said.

They walked the borrowed bodies back along their meandering trail to the driveway where they started. Marla drew her energy toward her center then thrust it upward. As she appeared wispy and disfigured again beside the mother, she felt herself expand into the freedom outside of the flesh. She watched the mother return to the surface disoriented, looking confused at the empty coffee mug in her hand.

Taking her mother’s ghostly hand once more, Marla followed her through the quieting streets. Jack o’lanterns flickered with dying candles on the porches. Music thumped out from lingering Halloween parties. The light air would have been crisp and the leaves would have crunched under their footsteps if they could feel either.

Abigail led Marla back to her spot in the middle of the intersection. She did not think of the way she could hear the front end of her car collapse or the way she saw the body of her child go flying past her head and through the windshield. She never saw Marla’s actual body on the street; she never left the driver seat.

“Are you ready to sleep, darling?” Abigail said.

“Yes, Mommy. It was a good Halloween.”

ghostinstreetlight

Marla crouched down on the pavement and lined herself up just as she had materialized, still clinging to her mother’s hand like an afterthought.

“Yes, it was, but next year, you can be the kid again.”

“Sounds good, Mommy. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, beautiful. I’ll see you next year.”

Abigail bent down and pressed her lips to her daughter’s cracked forehead, even as the cars continued to drive through and over them. Before Marla turned to plant her eye socket back on the pavement, she watched her mother hobble away into the night, back to her place. With each step, a layer disintegrated from Abigail’s form, as if she was melting into wisps in the air. Marla faded too. She felt herself shedding coherency until she dropped her head, and they both blew away before the sun pierced the sky.

 

Christina Bergling

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Two survivors search the ruins of America for the last strain of humanity. Marcus believes they are still human; Parker knows her own darkness. Until one discovery changes everything.

Available now on Amazon!
savagesnovella.com

TheWaning_CoverThe Waning

Beatrix woke up in a cage. Can she survive long enough to escape, or will he succeed at breaking her down into a possession?

Available now on Amazon!
thewaning.com

My favorite holiday has always been Halloween. I have said it before; I have written about it before. Since I can remember, I always enjoyed and waited for Halloween above all others.

halloween

I love the fall weather and colors.

I love the crisp (or snowy) night.

I love the costumes.

I love the candy.

I love the fear and the horror.

I loved it in my earliest memories as I love it now, as I share the holiday with my children.

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I also started writing when I was a child. I remember my passion truly being ignited during a writing unit in fourth grade, but I believe I was crafting miniature tales even younger than that. Even in my naive, sheltered, and happy youth, I found myself drawn to the darkness, attracted to the infancy of horror I was exposed to within my coveted holiday.

My young brain was stimulated by all the conventional Halloween imagery. Haunted houses. Jack-o-lanterns. Witches. Ghosts. Monsters like Frankenstein, vampires, and werewolves. Bats and spiders. Each year, as these images began to populate the stores, TV shows and movies, and my classrooms, my mind began to whir with spooky stories.

ghostbook

Each October, I remember I would start to write Halloween tales, complete with illustrations in black, green, orange, and purple. From construction and computer paper, I would self-publish my own childish horror books. I remember being filled with such joy and pride as I folder the paper into the book shape and showed my mother what I had created. A pride I would later revitalize in a mature evolution when I held my first published book in my hands.

This year, I remember that youthful tradition by teaching my daughter how to write and illustrate her own Halloween story and by taking the time to craft a short piece of festive fiction here. I could have crawled inside this one and made a home, which makes me wonder if I should not write something in the young horror fiction (a la Goosebumps) someday, but I forced myself to keep it short. Just a scary little glimpse.

Enjoy.

halloween night with pumpkin in grass tree bat and hunting house in background

 

The Green Light

That house loomed over me as long as I remember, dark and slumped on a dismal plot of land along our walk to school, staring down at us with wide and lopsided windows like a drooping face. Everyone knew the house was haunted. The McAllister house. The murder house. That damn house. It had many names. If we walked alone, we quickened our step to a near jog until we had passed the edge of the property; if we passed it in a group, laughing conversations lulled, and all eyes cast sideways up towards the black house perched between gnarled and twisted trees.

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The house haunted all of us. It was the torrid subject of village lore, its tales a crucial part of our own cultural indoctrination. We all knew how the rich father murdered his wife then stalked and killed his own children one by one inside the house. Dares to set soles of shoes on the wilted grass were defined rites of passage.

Yet it haunted Derrick most of all.

I grew up in his shadow, watching him both enamored and unnerved by the place. As if a splinter of the very structure was lodged in his brain tissue, swollen and infected under the skin where he could not reach to scratch it.

And when he disappeared, I knew where he had went. The police told our parents that he must have just run away. My mother wept, and my father turned his lips into his mouth and hung his head, and they both questioned what they had done to drive him away. But I knew he had not left us, not left me behind over any fight with our parents. I knew he had finally done it. He had finally walked through that door to see what was in the house.

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With my older brother’s disappearance, his obsession became my own.

“Dude, come on!” Jacob hollered from the safety on the sidewalk beyond the dead yard. “You do this every goddamn day.”

I ignored Jacob’s irritated plea as I did every day as we walked home from school. Instead, I let my gaze stretch and lose focus, crawling up the dead leaves and grass matted down under the black trees that bent in a twisted dance, reaching until I could hear the creak of the wood on the porch and feel the cold metal of the knob on my palm.

“Dude, fuck you, Mikey,” Jacob said, his voice edging on quiver. “I’m going home.”

“He’s in there.”

“Not this shit again. No, he’s not.”

I ignored Jacob, as I always did in the shadow of this house. The mere sight of it had a captivating power over me. As if I could hear Derrick’s voice whisper wafting on the breeze from the dilapidated siding.

He was in that house. I could feel it the same way I knew he was sleeping in his room on the other side of my wall every night.

“Mikey, what are you doing?”

Jacob’s voice was farther behind me now. Growing more distant by the syllable. Startled from my trance, I turned to find him still on the sidewalk. I had wandered halfway up the dead lawn. The fear twisting his face matched the fear quivering his voice, but his features were growing more distant. I continued to walk, to mount the hill even as I looked back at his pleading. By the time I broke eye contact with him, the jagged trees had already passed over my head, and the porch boards creaked beneath my meager weight.

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This close to the house, wrapped under its damp shade, I could almost feel it breathing. As if oxygen was being sucked in through the shingles and the siding, as if the house expanded and slumped, as if a gruesome thumping emanated from its dark center. I could feel its life vibrating up from my sneakers, creeping up along the tingling flesh of my legs, reaching into my very chest.

I felt home, the way I felt sitting in front of the fire with Derrick when the snow fell outside the windows of our house.
The door swung open wide suddenly, yet I was not even startled. I walked into the darkness without hesitation, the way I would walk into my own room.

The darkness swallowed me whole with a wide mouth, and I heard the door creak waning behind me. When the door slammed and extinguished all light, my comfort unnerved. I felt my fear begin to bristle along the edges of the fine hair on the back of my neck. The house grew deeper in the dark, an undulating shape formed by the rhythm of the strange breathing of the wind outside and the steady thumping below my feet.

Something heavy walked above me, footsteps shaking the air over my head. I did not dare move; I only clutched my arms tightly around myself and waited, eyes wide and reeling in the dark. Something scratched along the floorboards beside me, so close I could feel the vibrations in my feet. My heartbeat started to throb, and I think I stopped breathing as I waited on edge.

What was I doing here? I should have stayed on the cracked sidewalk with Jacob like I had every other day. I should have walked home to our empty house and watched my mother stare absently into a pot as she stirred dinner and sat with my father as he silently lost himself in the TV. Where the whole house was where Derrick was not.

No. I needed to be right here.

As I steeled myself, the loud whine of neglected hinges echoed through the darkness, silencing the other noises. The green light emanated from a door up the unforgiving staircase and sliced through the black, splitting my sight and casting hard shadows. The wider the door swung, the more light spilled down to me. It washed down the steps and got tangled in the black shape of the banister.

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I followed the light. There was really no other choice. I stepped slowly and deliberately, outstretching my hand toward the banister. The wood was rough and scratched at my fingertips as I carefully began to ascend the stairs. Each board cried out under me. I just kept moving towards that light.

At the summit, I kept my eyes trained on the glowing shape of the open door as I side stepped in its direction. I allowed my hand to trail the banister, feeling the splinters steadily piercing my fingertips. As I grew closer to the opening, I became aware of something near me. The dark air changed, felt full and disrupted. I stopped moving, silencing the creaks under my feet, to hear the steady, wet sound of breathing.

The sound was right in front of me. I shielded the light to allow my pupils to dilate. As the darkness took on shape, a figure materialized against the wall, shadowed and obscure. I could only make out the reflection of the green light against the two large orbs of eyes staring at me intently.

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The thing saw me see it, yet neither of us moved. Its breathing did not change though mine seemed to strangle in my throat. I waited. Waited for it to jump forward and attack me, waited for it to do anything. The two glowing spheres in front of me remained unmoved and unblinking, and the wet breathing panted in my face.

Keeping a peripheral awareness trained on the dark figure, I began to inch away. I dropped my hand to bathe in the green light and felt somewhat safer blinded by its glow. I walked until it overtook my sight. I walked until the doorframe disappeared behind me. I walked until I was temporarily lost in the green haze.

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My eyes finally gauged the light and allowed the room to take shape before me. A bed slumped against one wall; a ravaged dresser leaned against another. A dead rug draped over the floorboards sprinkled in a menagerie of broken toys. A long and lanky figure folded on top of itself on the edge of that rug, pointing absently at a shattered doll with a spindly digit.

I took another step forward, permitting my hand to extend into the cold air toward the bony shoulder that seemed so familiar. Before my fingertip could make contact, it shifted, and I drew my arm back protectively.

“Michael,” it said. I knew the voice. From the very marrow vibrating in my bones, I knew the sound of it. “Michael, you finally came.”

The figure stood in front of me, growing to be a head taller than me, casting the shadow I had grown up underneath. The boy unfolded his limbs before turning to face me, the green light carving sharp shadows across the face that looked so similar to my own.

“Michael,” Derrick said, stepping towards me. “You’re here. You’re finally home with me.”

The skin on Derrick’s face stretched strangely as he smiled at me with wide eyes, reaching out his arms. I smiled back and dove into his cold chest, allowing him to wrap around me the way he would when I had hurt myself and no one was looking.

We froze in brotherly embrace. In the pit of my stomach, I felt truly home.

And the green light went out.

Halloween-Background

 

Christina Bergling

christinabergling.com
facebook.com/chrstnabergling
@ChrstnaBergling
chrstnaberglingfierypen.wordpress.com
pinterest.com/chrstnabergling

SavagesCoverChristinaSavages

Two survivors search the ruins of America for the last strain of humanity. Marcus believes they are still human; Parker knows her own darkness. Until one discovery changes everything.

Available now on Amazon!
savagesnovella.com

TheWaning_CoverThe Waning

Beatrix woke up in a cage. Can she survive long enough to escape, or will he succeed at breaking her down into a possession?

Available now on Amazon!
thewaning.com

Jack o’ lanterns from pumpkins and furry black kittens, these are a few of my favorite things…

Ever since I was a child, Halloween has been favorite holiday, even in preference to the more present-laden Christmas or my own self-serving birthday. It was, and continues to be, all about Halloween.

So in the spirit of the season and my beloved holiday, I give you the 10 best things about Halloween (for me at least):

10. Candy: At heart, I am just a little fat girl. I loved candy as a child, and I love candy still as an adult. Granted, candy is accessible year round, and with the internet, seasonal candy is as well. However, there’s just something special about when pumpkin and ghost shaped candy in black wrappers starts to grace the grocery aisle. And can we say mellowcreme pumpkins and candy corn? There is also something enchanting about a heaping pile of variously concocted sugars (even if it now comes home in my kid’s bucket).

Halloween-Candy

9. Haunted houses: Fear (#1) is fun, when that fear is contrived and controlled. A haunted house is nothing if not a place designed to scare you safely. That is why we go, after all. I have been to many haunted houses in my Halloweens, some awesome and some painfully lame. One in a cave, one in a mine, some in a house or building, one in a corn field. I was in a photo shoot in the House of Shock. I even helped construct a haunted house for children during community service. Snaking through a long line in the dark, being teased by cast members, just to willingly plunge into darkness to be terrified is its own small thrill.

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8. Weather: The crisp edge on the air. The lovely death hues adoring the leaves before they pile on the ground. The crunch of the leaf corpses under my feet. Aside from the snow of winter, fall is my favorite season. It is the best time to run (a deep, pervasive addiction of mine); the temperatures are mild and pleasant; the colors are beautiful. Once those first leaves begin to turn and fall, I know my beloved Halloween is near. And Halloween would not be what it was if it did not happen during the fall.

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7. Trick-or-treating: See #10 Candy above. Add to this love of candy the fun of costumes (#3) and the excitement of going door-to-door in the dark. If you are fortune and your neighbors are festive, your neighborhood can be transformed, in that one night, into an alternative and spooky world. I remember my father used to don a ferocious mask and terrify all our friends and classmates as he doled out candy. And when I briefly lived in the South, one house was so inspired as to have a full-sized skeleton funeral procession poised in their front yard.

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6. Parties: I may or may not have been an avid (read: rabid) drinker in my misspent youth. I may or may not have frequented many a party in my day. Whatever my past, a house party still has a special place in my heart. Especially when it is my party where I can simply stumble up the stairs and pass out face down in my Dora the Explorer costume (shoes included). When these parties are made even better with music and costumes (#3) and the macabre (#2), I am one happy and intoxicated girl. Every year, we go all out with festive food and drink and costumed friends.

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5. Movies: Horror movies, need I say more? Horror movies that include or are focused around Halloween, even better. Trick ‘r Treat is our staple Halloween movie. Since having our daughter, every year after we return from trick-or-treating (#7), we put her to bed in her post-sugar comma and watch Trick ‘r Treat over drinks and more candy (#10). Not to mention other necessary classics like the Halloween franchise, just to name one.

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4. Pumpkins: Delicious, delicious pumpkins. When October graces our calendar, pumpkin reigns in our house. Pumpkin cookies, pumpkin bread, pumpkin fondue, pumpkin pancakes. The list goes on. We also harvest the pumpkin for the pie for the next holiday. Pumpkins also make jack-o-lanterns. As a child, I hated gutting a pumpkin; I found the gooey, sticky innards horrifying. Yet I loved carving just the same. One year, our parents helped us construct a jack-o-lantern totem pole in a planter on our front step. Now, I watch my daughter squeal as she shoves her hand inside a pumpkin as we carve for our porch. Plus, pumpkins are orange like my hair. They are simply a symbol of both the holiday and the season.

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3. Costumes: Costumes allow you to temporarily be someone else. When I was a child, I played dress up incessantly, mostly using Halloween costumes from years past. I was a mermaid then a princess then a ladybug, all in the same day. But Halloween costumes were special. I spent the entire year deciding what single thing to be on that special night. As an adult, Halloween costumes have become about creativity and hilarity (with a stop off at slutty between childhood and parenthood). This year, for example, with my newborn son, I represented my challenging pregnancy and birth by dressing us up as Alien with me being the chest out of which he is bursting.

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2. Macabre: Even prior to my fall from innocence, even before my gothic phase, I loved the darkness in Halloween. I used to write illustrated stories about haunted houses. I used to plaster things with ghost and witch and black cat stickers. Year round, I love skulls and skeletons. When I was a gothic belly dancer, I was frequently covered in fake blood. Halloween is defined by the macabre. Sure, it is often all cuted up and toned down for the kiddies, but at its core, Halloween (not Samhain) is defined by darkness and the macabre. I love having a small graveyard in my front yard and a skeleton dangling from my door. It is the one time of year where my aesthetic preference is acceptable and embraced.

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1. Fear: Halloween is about being scared and things that are scary. Boo! Being scared in a safe and controlled scenario is fun and exciting. I startle embarrassingly easily, even considering my horror obsession and copious amounts of time spent desensitizing myself, and I love that thrill of the jolt in my adrenaline, that rush of relief when the fear passes. I am an addict for that sensation, and it is so much more fun when everyone else is playing along. Haunted houses (#9), trick-or-treating (#7) in the dark, terrifying decorations, foggy and eerie weather (#8). All things that allow us to flirt with and dabble in fear while knowing we will be able to emerge smiling on the other side.

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What are you favorite things about Halloween?

happyhalloween

Visit the rest of the Halloween blog carnival!

Poetic Zombie

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Interrogating Ideology With A Chainsaw

http://www.interrogatingideologywithachainsaw.blogspot.com/2014/10/hbg-halloween-blog-carnival-great.html

 

I Want to Suck Your Blog

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I Want to Suck Your Blog

http://lockyourdoor.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-grim-fairytale.html

 

Amanthatwriteswrites.blogspot.com

http://youtu.be/dhr9u1Q6PDM

 

Poetic Zombie

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The Nightmare Nook Horror Blog

http://nightmarenookhorrorblog.blogspot.com/2014/07/monster-mash.html

 

I Want to Suck Your Blog

http://lockyourdoor.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-package.html