Tainted Candy Corn

Thirteen pieces of candy corn lie in the crystal black bowl,

Each just as tantalizing as the one next to it,

But something is off about each piece,

Making them even the more desirable.

Do you care to partake of tainted candy corn?

Smile Beneath a Witch’s Brim

The lazy smoke curled into the brown and falling leaves from the gnarled oak. His eyes were focused on the side walk glowing in the mixture of moonbeams and lamp light. The wild laughter of trick or treaters merely echoed as a distant memory of two hours ago. Now, only a hour to midnight, the tiny tykes were in sweet dreams while their parents hid their loot, and those who had an entirely different idea about tricks and treats were roaming the park to get to parties.

Groups of teenagers and college students sporadically passed him by, hardly taking notice of the man in the black trench coat smoking a cigarette. A few bolder girls had come up to him, giggling an invitation to this party or that. With his roguish smile, he had turned each and everyone of them done. They had replied with a sigh, a fake cry, or even a disgruntled huff before returning to their friends. He had no intention of spending this night of all nights with those girls. He needed one, a very special one, and soon. The night was almost over.

And his silent prays were answered as a lone figure walked the cracked cement walks. Dressed in long sleeved short black dress, knee high black go-go boots, and a pointed black hat, there was no doubt she was a witch. Strolling causally, her long ebony hair flowed in a silky river stirred by the silent breeze, yet the slight chill seem to give her little bother. Noticing someone was watching, she paused at the walk near the man’s resting place and looked at him. Her bright green eye and rosy red smile beamed at him underneath the witch’s brim. He had to admit, she was breath taking. Strutting forward he ground his previous butts underneath his boots and let the latest one join them.

“Going to a party my little pretty?” he smiled at her. “Forgot your broom and cat?” He knew it sounded corny, but the girl was giving a laugh in return.

“No, they just flew the coup already,” she said. “But I could use a date. Little girls walking alone attract all sorts of unwanted attention.” She raised herself up on her toes and gave him a flirty innocent look. Even doing so, the petite girl head barely came up to his shoulder, but her hat filled the difference.

“How do you know I am not one of those things that go bump in the night?” he smirked at her.

“I’ll take my chances.” she grinned back. “Now would you like to accompany to my gala. I can promise you it will be a party you will not soon forget.”

“I can say the same for you,” he said back, matching her smile. Arm in arm, they walked out of the park’s iron gate.

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A quarter till one in the morning and the party was still in full swing and showed no signs of slowing. The house was huge and crowed with people he had never seen before. And Midnight seemed to be right in her element.

“Midnight, its what everyone calls me,” she had said when over a hour ago he had asked her name. She seemed to be right, everyone had greeted her as Midnight, and he could she where she could get such a nickname, with that mane of hair of hers, though it seemed rather cutesy for his taste, but after tonight neither him nor Midnight would have to worry about it.

Every so often, a friend would come up and chat with them. It seems Midnight was quite popular amongst this group of friends. Even the host, a handsome man in late twenties, had made a point of personally greeting them. He hadn’t counted on people knowing or acknowledging him and Midnight. He had hoped everyone would be too drunk to notice anything.

“You seem to know a lot of people here,” he said to her as another of song played heavily over the rather sophisticated loud speakers.

“It’s my cousin’s party,” she replied. “I know nearly everyone here. He throws this party every year.” He could only nod in reply. Their dancing went on for another few minutes before Midnight suddenly stopped. “Its getting rather hot and noisy, want to go outside to get a breather?”

Seeing the barren outside, he gave a smile and a nod. “I thought you would never ask.

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Her lips were as tender as he had hoped, and her hair even softer. It was almost like losing his hands in a horse’s mane. Her own hands had tangled into his own hair and were pushing him closer and closer to her, almost like she was trying to suck his very essence from him. Suddenly, she broke free, in need of a desperate breath. Rather then resuming their efforts, she straighten her dress and placed her hat back on her head. Stunned, he could only gape at her.

She smiled that bewitching smile she had originally given him to lure him to her. Now, though, her green eyes were hidden. “You know,” her lips formed the words slowly and perfectly. “It is almost the witching hour.”

“I thought midnight was,” he replied, knowing it was almost one and midnight had come and gone unannounced.

“No,” she replied rather bored, a side of her she had not shown all night. “It is the thirteenth hour, one. The time all those old enchantments come alive and ghost and goblins are about.” He merely gave her an odd glare in reply.

“And what does that have to do with us,” he said, pulling her arm rather harshly, a grip she easily broke out of with a slight growl.

“Everything,” she replied, agilely flipping herself on to him and reclaiming his lips. Lost in the heat, he didn’t notice the presence of her hands until they had him pinned into the ground in an unbreakable vice grip.

“What the hell are you?” he asked, the wind suddenly picking up and blowing her hat away, showing her green eyes, even brighter but now sporting cat eye pupils.

“The cat that got a broom,” she said eerily calm, her face hovering inches from his. “I was a pretty cat, as you can image, so pretty in fact my master couldn’t help but wonder what type of woman I would be. Sadly, he couldn’t make it last forever, unless we both took some drastic action. Thirteen is always the number, unoriginal I know. Thirteen years old when he caste the spell. Thirteen victims over as many years. The thirteenth hour.”

“Lucky you, number thirteen,” said a new voice that caused Midnight to purr. Behind her, holding a vicious dagger was the host party who had given them a knowing smile when Midnight had introduced them. “Midnight always has a way of finding the rats. I don’t think anyone will even miss you.” Loosing her grip on one shoulder she reached for the dagger. He put it in her hand as gentle as if she was made of glass and graced it with a kiss, before she plunged the dagger with full might into her victims heart. The splash of blood over her dark hair renewed her too lovely human face and eyes. Smiling, Midnight and the host made their way back to the party and their remaining guest.

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The next Halloween greeted the midnight wedding of the town’s most eligible bachelor and his too lovely bride. The lamp light reflected against her dark hair as the couple danced their first dance in the backyard of his vast mansion. Smiling her green eyes and ruby red smile made everyone fall in love with her. One of her bridesmaids placed a witch’s hat on her head as a joke. Smiling, she tugged it till only her gleaming lips shone beneath its brim.

The thirteen bushes of red roses that lined the yard were magically still in full bloom and a blossom from each of them was in the bride’s bouquet. People were disappointed that this Halloween the owner wasn’t going to plant a new bush like he did every year. The bride replied, smiling beneath her witch’s brim, “Thirteen is our number.”

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Author's Note: My first of thirteen short stories for Halloween. Hope you enjoy and come back tomorrow for another installment of Tainted Candy Corn.