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best Halloween ever
The Legend of Lunar Pines (by......
chapter 14 by Mike Battaglia
 Category:  Horror and Thriller Fiction
  Posted: March 17, 2012      Views: 210
Chapters:
 ...6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18... 

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 MIKE BATTAGLIA 
IN PRINT 






 ABOUT
MIKE BATTAGLIA 

Mike Battaglia has worked as a restaurateur, a chef, a bartender, an aircraft re-fueler, a landscape architect, an usher and popcorn popper at the cinema, a grocer, a gopher, a painter, a stock clerk, a janitor, a promotional bear for a toy store, a - more...

He is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #13 position.

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Background
What if werewolves were real?


14.





It had been without doubt the greatest day ever. Peter Burrows had even woken up early this morning - something he only usually does under threat of punishment. But it was Halloween, and that meant that there had been plenty to do. Not only had he just about completed work on his jeep track in the back yard, he'd also managed to carve the scariest jack o' lantern that every was, finished assembling his Halloween costume (he was going as a commando, in honor of the return of his beloved Army jeep), and to top it off, Mom had even broke down and gotten him a box of Cookie Crisp cereal for breakfast. All the candy he could eat that night, and a test run of his jeep track tomorrow. Without doubt, the greatest day ever.

He emptied the contents of his pillowcase onto the bed and out spilled a pirate's ransom of chocolates and nuts, caramels and creams, sugar sticks and marshmallows. It would have to be carefully sorted into various piles (with a dud pile set aside for Mom, of course), and rationed out precisely. Just by looking at the pile Peter could accurately estimate how long it was going to last based on the Crunch bar to marshmallow-filled ratio (Marshmallow filled went directly to the Mom pile). He'd done very well this year, thank you very much. Scored three Almond Joys from the lady at the craft store (coconut is Peter's favorite), and more than two dozen Hundred Thousand Dollar bars (they had been on special the week before down at The Apple Cart). Rationing them out was going to be no easy task. He sighed and ran his hand through his foil-wrapped booty. Somehow Halloween candy just tastes better. Maybe it's how you gather it, or maybe it's something in the air that's not there on any other night of the year. What's this? Who was giving out Hershey's Kisses? Only two?? Oh well, one for Mom, one for me...

It took Peter a good hour to sort out all his loot, and he ended up with five very calculated piles: four of them containing roughly the same variety and number of sweets as the others, and a "Mom" pile. There was a sixth pile beside his pillow consisting of empty wrappers. His bedroom door swung open.

"Peter Burrows! Are you still up?"

"Just sortin' my loot, Mom."

"It's well past ten. You should be in bed."

"Yeah, I'm going." He shoved the Mom pile towards the edge of the bed. "This pile's for you."

Mrs. Burrows smiled. She knew it was all the candy that Peter didn't like, but it was the thought that always melted her heart.

"Thanks honey." She said, bending over to kiss the top of his head. "Give them to me in the morning?"

"Sure mom."

"Go brush your teeth now. And twice as good! All that sugar you've had today!"

He hopped down off his bed and ran past his mother to the bathroom. He had no qualms about calling it a night, even if it was Halloween (and the greatest day ever). Tomorrow he was going to get his jeep back, and the sooner tomorrow came the better. He brushed his teeth quickly (but twice as good), called out good night to his mother, and tucked himself into bed. He could feel the sugar buzzing around in his head. He didn't think he could close his eyes if he forced himself to. He started thinking about his track out back. He'd built lots of dips and rises for the jeep to ride through, going so far as to pack the dirt so it wouldn't clog up the jeep's delicate made-in-China gears.

He turned his head and looked out of his bedroom window. All he could see was the bony outline of the oak tree outside. His track was right below it. He thought about getting up to go have a look. He was very proud of it. If it proved too much of a challenge for his jeep he knew a dozen or so Hot Wheels that could give the track a run for its money. There were only a few minor cosmetic things left to do, but other than that it was perfect. Certainly ready for trial runs. He stared back up at the ceiling and tried to imagine his jeep whirring over his mounds and through his dips; imagined what kinds of battle missions he could come up with; rescue missions, infiltrations, alien invasions... Giant bugs! The possibilities were limitless.

He got out of bed and went over to the window.

# # # #

Mrs. Burrows took a tender sip of her coffee. She was curled up on the couch with Danielle Steel. There was no Mr. Burrows anymore, not for a long time, so Danielle Steel was her bedfellow. She was wishing she had taken her candy pile now. It was cold outside, the fire was fizzing and popping away in the mantle, coffee was hot... The whole scene screamed chocolate, and now that the image was firmly implanted in her head she found herself reading the same paragraph over and over.

Damn!

She closed her book and was about to go sneak a few chocolates out of Peter's room when she noticed him standing in the hallway, rubbing his eyes. It made her jump, mainly out of guilt for being about to go steal candy from her only son.

"Mom?" said Peter sleepily. "There's a monster outside my window."

The little "Mom" alarm that starts ringing every time your child gets out of bed to come find you started to fade.

Bloody Halloween... she thought.

"Give it some of your chocolate and it'll leave you alone, honey. Halloween is over now. You need some sleep."

Peter rubbed his eyes again and said "'Kay, Mom. Nite." Then shuffled back into his bedroom. He went back over to his bedroom window and peered out. Yup, still there; just standing there in the middle of his jeep track, bobbing up and down like it has to go to the bathroom and staring at him. He didn't think a werewolf would go for chocolate, but he felt he had to give it something. He shuffled back out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and looked around. Ah-ha! Bacon! That'll do!

He took the packet of bacon back to his bedroom, slid his window open just far enough to slip the packet through, then closed it. The werewolf stopped bobbing and tilted its head to the side. It raised its snout into the air and gave a sniff. It dropped down onto all fours and sniffed the ground, then slowly crept up to Peter's bedroom window. It stood back upright and put its claws on the window ledge and sniffed at the packet of bacon. It looked up at Peter through the glass then back down at the packet of bacon, hesitating. It gave the packet a lick, then another sniff, and finally took it in its teeth and walked back out to the middle of Peter's jeep track. It took the bacon out of its mouth and dropped it to the ground, then dropped back down onto all fours and started to nip at the plastic.

That oughta' keep it happy. Peter thought.

He watched it play with the packet for a while; watched it pick it up in its teeth and toss it side to side, chase after it, sniff it and lick it.

"It's not a toy, stupid!" Peter said into the glass. "Ya' eat it!"

But the wolf seemed to be enjoying just putting the packet through holy hell.
"Fine." Said Peter aloud, turning away from the window. "I gotta go to sleep." He climbed back into his bed and drifted slowly to sleep, listening to the werewolf outside cavorting with its packet of bacon.

# # # #

Mrs. Burrows paused and looked up from her book.
"Monsters..." she said out loud to herself. "Where on earth does that kid of mine get his imagination from?" She shook her head and sniggered and buried her nose back into the pages.

The book continues with chapter 15. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.
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