Monsters

Chapter One

1

The creatures roamed like hungry mice, skirting the shadows on their candy quest. Vampires, ninjas, firemen and princesses patrolled like eager door-to-door salesmen, selling only the offer of an old joke, the threat of flour in your face or toilet paper in your tree. Parents smiled indulgently from the curbside, holding one another close as their little urban highwaymen held out pillow cases and plastic jack o’lanterns. Playing along, homeowners dished out the candy in plentiful supplies and pretended to be spooked by the timid little ghost at the back of the group.

The sky blackened as the young ones roamed and the brown-outs continued, lights dimming and then extinguishing altogether, raising squeals of fright or excitement from the candy-gathering horde. Parents looked anxiously at one another, armed with flashlights but still freaking out at the growing uselessness of the power supply. They kept their young children on the lighter side of the long street, avoiding the crooked lanes and darkest cul-de-sacs, their excited brood never questioning them as they gratefully skipped in the halo of the street lamps and jumped past the shadows leeching out from every corner.

At six-thirty, it was dark and scary enough for any eight year old, but Scarlett Watson was a little darker than most girls her age, happily dressed like Red Riding Hood and humming made-up tunes. Emmy, her protective mother, walked beside her, a short and feminine Woodcutter replete with plaid shirt and stuck-on woolly beard, carefully easing away from the edge of the sidewalk and weaving her eager daughter amongst the more unruly children who buzzed around on sugar highs.

Scarlett loved the story of Red Riding Hood, but not because of the pretty cloak or the game she played with her mother when they read it together. Rather, she enjoyed the story for the carnage and the bloodshed, laughing nervously as the Wolf carried out his wicked plan and giggling with delight as the Wood Cutter split open the Wolf’s fat belly to free the gobbled Grandmother and her visiting granddaughter. Emmy had checked the book for a warning after reading it the first time, but discovered it was a version more akin to the folk tale that inspired the Brothers Grimm better-known version. Devoid of cutesy characterizations and clumsy sanitizing, the tale was bloody and gruesome and scary. The metaphors flew over Scarlett’s head so, despite the crooked smile and the mischievous gleam behind her delicate almond-shaped eyes, Emmy played along, adding gory sound effects to the tale and magically transporting her only child to a place she loved.

When it came to the making of the costumes, it had been Scarlett who had pressed her mom to make sure her axe was covered in wolf blood. She gleefully told friends, and anyone else who dared ask, that it was real blood, reveling in the grimaces from kids and the knowing smiles of adults. Emmy didn’t mind because the red outfit made her easy to keep track of as she constantly tore away from her grasp and disappeared down a pathway in search of goodies. And, although scolded often, she would repeat the feat every few houses, unafraid of the procession of ghouls around her, and drawing momentary frowns from her mother which would quickly blow away on her triumphant return with candy.

While Scarlett harvested, Emmy waved to the many familiar faces around her, stopping briefly to chat to Christiana Connolly, an old friend from high school whom she hadn’t seen in years. She stood hand-in-hand with her nerdy-looking husband Howie, silently showing him off to Emmy as other mothers and fathers shuttled their excited children around them. When Emmy stopped for the little catch up, she made sure to reach out with one hand and catch the oblivious Scarlett, preventing her from marching off too far into the darkness and getting lost. The lights flickered and died again and everyone froze like statues. Emmy squeezed a little harder on her daughter’s hand to make extra sure that she could not wiggle free.

“Ow!” Scarlett cried as the lights popped back on.

“Sorry hon.” Emmy released her daughter and smiled, her daughter’s yelp making her feel foolish for being so over-protective. Still, she was her mother, and Scarlett would have to deal with the protective nature. “Do you still have your flashlight in your basket there?” She lifted the gingham cloth that covered the growing pile of sweets and did not see the small red flashlight she had put in there at the start of the night.