Welcome to the special, SPOOKY EDITION of the Two Pentacles Newsletter!
This bonus newsletter is full of fun, chills, and thrills created by our wonderful, creative friends!
Thank you to everyone who sent in their spooky stories!
Now, without further adieu, let’s get spooky!
-Dawn and Colleen-
Play along at home! How many times did you find the word “spooky” in this newsletter??
This includes photos, alt text descriptions, and in text.
Scroll down to the very end of the newsletter to see how many times we said SPOOKY!
By Claire Plaisted
The young boy peeked around the curtain, observing two forms in hooded robes lighting the altar candles. Their long, grey hands with sharp, jagged nails moved swiftly in the sign of the cross before they backed away with slow steps, their heads bowed in reverence.
Hesitating momentarily, making sure the room was empty, the boy stepped from behind the long, red, velvet curtain. His quiet steps on the old, grey, stone floor carried him towards the covered altar holding the long, white candles. His eyes searched every corner as he reached out with his hand, his body trembling. A swish of fabric on the ground had his hand dropping to his side, his body turning towards the ghostly sound as he peered into the shadows.
“H-hello,” he whispered.
He jolted upright, his eyes widening at the huge red eyes staring at him.
“Come, boy,” it hissed.
The boy stumbled towards the voice as if hypnotised, his body disobeying his commands to get out of there. Closer and closer he drew, until a clawed hand with yellowed nails gripped his shoulder, yanking him hard into nothing but darkness.
“W-where am I?” he choked out.
“You are mine now.”
The long claws dug deep into his shoulder, through his clothing, scraping his shoulder blade. The boy whimpered, his heart racing as he felt his blood flowing away. He shook, the pain deepening until he was screaming. Blackness, then death, claimed him as his heart stopped. The beast ripped open his heart, hunting for the gem, roaring with displeasure when he couldn’t find it.
The two robed forms returned, removing the boy’s drained body. Neither noticed the red gem laying on the bloody floor by the altar. They withdrew, throwing the boy’s body into the huge fire pit in the Master’s office. They smiled, watching the flames lick at the bones as the body burned. Nodding their heads and cleaning the altar floor, the brush flipped the gem stone into a narrow gap where it continued to lay, unnoticed. Blowing out the candles, they were happy to appease their Master with a job well done.
Laughing, they showered and changed into jeans and t-shirts, climbing into their cars, heading for home and dinner with their beloved families.
by Joan Myles
like shadows in the firelight
like smoke upon the air
like spectres we are dancing
is no one there
ephemeral and timeless
colors flicker bright
as dreams of sleepless dreamers
who pass the weary night
yearning for another’s touch
to know themselves alive
a word to build a world upon
yet something to believe
By Ann Chiappetta
On this evening shaded by breaths of grist
fiendish grumbles scour earth’s loamy heart.
As golden day frets, shades ooze past
and darkness befriends cool mists beyond our grasp.
Chaos leads the tenants of the dead
Gruesome snouts mouthing gluttonous decrees
Oooo Oooo Aaah
Gutted husks stump an other-worldly cadence
Torment trick or treaters until their wits be gone!
By Samantha Massingale
It was Halloween and I, an adult, was going to go trick or treating, because I needed to get out of the house. I put on my flannel and boots and walked out the front door to see dozens of kids running up and down the street in adorable costumes.
Sticking my hands in my pockets, I started to walk over to my neighbor Jill’s house. As I turned to go up her steps, some teenager bumped into me. They looked me up and down, and frowned.
“What kind of costume is that?”
Thinking fast, I retorted, “I’m Dean from those Carver Edland books.”
Truth is, I’ve always dressed like this. The kid shrugged and walked away.
I made it up the steps of Jill’s porch and noticed the door was ajar, which is odd mainly because she would normally have it either fully open or fully shut.
I knocked and called out her name. No answer. I pushed it open a bit more and heard a crash, followed by a choked scream.
I ran in and turned the corner to her kitchen to see a guy I’ve never met before tearing at her throat. I stopped, stunned by what I was seeing.
Just then, the back door slammed open and this guy came in with a machete and swung, killing the attacker. Silence rang through the air.
“What just happened?” I asked the guy, who was bent over Jill, checking if she was alive or not.
“They’ve been ganked.” He said, pulling out his phone.
I rushed over to Jill who was unconscious, but alive. I looked up and the guy got off the phone with 9-1-1 and handed me a business card.
“If you need anything let me know.”
I took it without looking and nodded as he vanished as quickly as he had arrived. A few minutes later, an ambulance came and took Jill to the hospital. As it left, I took out the card he gave me.
All it had was a name; no number. Willis.
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SPOOKY Counter: 11 (1 in the cover photo, 2 in the Alt-Text, 7 in the newsletter)