Horror and Thriller Fiction posted October 27, 2015


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Are they really so cute?

Halloween Pack Attack

by mfowler


The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.

There's usually a point at which Toby's ideas for Halloween morphed from strange to just plain bizarre.
 
Last year, it was all about selling creepy drinks like Demonade or Beetlejuice to revellers in town. We offered fruit juices with these creative monikers. With just a teaspoon of mustard covered up by lashings of food colouring and sugar, we set about making many a fake ghost or too-sweet an Alice from Wonderland into a puking freak. Nobody noticed us snapping shots for Instagram from behind buildings as the vomit fests got under way. By moving about town quickly we created maximum havoc, and no-one ever knew who we were.

This year's plan was plain crazy, but I loved it.

'We dress our dogs as famous villains. We'll give them something to make 'em crap or vomit. When we're walking about people will think they're so cute, but when the dogs drop their guts, man it'll be funny.'

'Toby, you're a cruel son of a bitch.' Casey didn't always agree with our Halloween plans, but he put up with them so he could be part of the gang.

Toby's eyes normally twinkled, but Casey's objection seemed to have taken any fun from them. 'Casey, if you're scared, stay out of it. The rest of you are in. Right.'

'Can I make Blondie into Charles Manson?' I asked.

'Hey Babe, you can turn that overweight Labrador into Stalin for all I care. You're the best chick in this whole damned school.'

'My pug is gonna be Hitler,' said Clem. 'I'll make a little mo out of a cut-up paint brush and super-glue it to his nose.'

Toby's usually pallid skin filled with colour as his excitement rose. 'Good, enthusiasm. And I'll leave some meat in the sun tomorrow. It should be just off enough to make the little critters hungry and very sick.'

'Yuck, eeeeeeh!' Casey threw up over his own shoes.
 
'The idea's working already,' said Toby. 'Meet here by the school bike shed at 7:00 sharp. Remember to wear a matching disguise and cover your faces. No-one is to know who's behind the tricks; OK.'
 
On Halloween, the nastiest array of doggie villains ever assembled, showed up at the bike shed.

'Charles Manson. Geeze Charlene, that fake beard and long wig makes Blondie look just like the dude.' Toby was impressed with my costume skills.
 
'Look at this.' I showed the gang a stiff cardboard, cut-out set of nasty dog fangs which I'd super-glued around Blondie's mouth.
 
'Yikes, he looks like Jaws, or a shark,' said Casey.
 
'The best bit is that I made some for all of your dogs. I hope they fit.'
 
Everyone loved my inventions. Toby's Staffordshire Terrier really looked like Colonel Gadaffi with massive fangs. Clem's Pug made Hitler look like a short hound from hell. But, it was Casey's Alsatian, Bozo, who gave Rasputin the scariest face of all.

'Brilliant,' said Toby. 'Now for the meat.' He threw two handfuls of chopped red meat to the dogs who consumed it quickly.
 
'How do you know this will work?' I asked.

'The secret ingredient. But, I won't bore you with details. Let's set the hounds of hell onto the good folk of Bellville.'
 
Blood from the raw meat dribbled through the fake cardboard teeth giving them a threatening appearance. Toby clapped in delight. 'Let's party!'
 
As we walked the dogs towards the town square, I noticed all of the dogs were foaming at the mouth. The secret ingredient seemed to be having a potent effect. We walked among the revellers, and many pointed and laughed at the dogs with their strange costumes and fake fangs. Nobody recognised us or the dogs in costumes.
 
A group of excited elves and goblins ran up to us. 'What's the big dog supposed to be?' asked the smallest goblin.

'Rasputin,' said Casey.
 
'That's a stupid name. Hey, Rasputin, you're a stupid looking mutt.'  The Alsatian tore away from Casey's grasp and leapt onto the elf. He tore at the poor kid's chest with his real fangs. The other dogs joined Bozo in the feeding frenzy. No matter how much we screamed and pulled at their leashes, they continued their rampage.
 
'Help, help, wild dogs!' screamed the largest elf while the others ran for cover. Two adult trolls raced across the square and tried to contain the dog's fury. Blondie, Toby's Staffie and Clem's Pug turned on the intruders. I couldn't believe what I saw; my docile Labrador ripping flesh off the arms of one of the trolls.
 
'Look at their eyes!' screamed Clem. Their beautiful dark eyes were afire with infrared ferocity.
 
'What have you done?' I screamed at Toby who was running away from the scene.
 
The pack, the best way I could now describe them, left the three people in costumes moaning and bleeding on the ground. They turned their attention towards us. We could see from their bristling fangs that we were no longer their loving owners.
 
'Get away. Run!' said Clem. It was the only advice that made sense.
 
We headed in three different directions. As I fled I heard Clem cry out in horror. Turning briefly, I saw Blondie ripping at his face, while Toby's Staffie brutalised his legs. They left him quickly and came after me.
 
I saw a group of ghouls and fairies walking by the low hedges near the border gardens. 'Run for your lives...mad dogs!'

They saw the pack charging, and raced away. I hurdled a low fence and hid behind Forgione's dumpster in their alleyway. 'Psst! Charlene. Have they gone?'
 
'Hell, Toby, you coward. No, they're after me. What did you give those poor animals?'
 
Toby climbed down from the dumpster. 'Some of my brother's LSD. I thought it might have been better than rotten meat.'

'They're tripping. God, Toby you've turned them into monsters.' As I spoke I heard snarling and a clatter of cans behind me. The pack descended on us in the blink of an eye. I climbed onto the dumpster, but Toby wasn't so lucky. Bozo ripped his facial skin off in a moment and exposed his bloodied skeleton. The others dragged the body deeper into the alley and tore it to shreds.

Police cars pulled up at the alley entrance. Sharpshooters piled out of the cars and  raised their rifles. As bullets flew in the pack's direction, I yelled out, 'Nooooooooh, it's not their fault,' but it was much too late.

***
 
There was a hush around the campfire, and then the Grade 10's burst into spontaneous applause and whistling.

'Hell, Charlene, that's the damnedest Halloween story I've ever heard,' yelled Toby who seemed to have liked hearing about his own demise.

'That was great, Charlene,' said Mrs Graham who'd organised our camp to coincide with Halloween. 'Give it up for the best Halloween story so far. Now, who's next for sharing?'

Casey put up his hand. 'I've got one about how I dressed up my cats as fairies.'

The crowd hissed. I thought they might have been ready for something a bit gentler by then.



 


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