Horror and Thriller Fiction posted October 31, 2016

This work has reached the exceptional level
a Halloween piece


by mfowler

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

Sebastian's been my devoted friend since his master died.
Bellfellows lived a jolly life between his candle making business in the village, and his love for rambling on the moors. And then, poor man, for some reason obscure to every neighbour, chose to tackle Bradley's Heath on Halloween.
I heard him; saw him. A friendly soul called him as he stepped onto the moor.
'Tooa dangerous walkin' t' moor on 'alloween, Mr Bellfellows.' But for reasons only he seemed to understand, Bellfellows was determined to set out.
'I've getten Sebastian. Neya betta dog aroun'.' He waved and disappeared into the darkness.
I followed in the shadows as is the instinct of my kind. A jolly, chubby man, alone in the dark, and on Halloween. What else could I do?
Near Nobby's Rise, Bellfellows stopped, produced a telescope from his bag, and set it up on a fold-out contraption, on the hill far above the village. 'It's eur fine view fra up 'eear, Sebastian. We'll watch t' villidge 'alloween fra 'eear t'neet.'
Sweet whippet. He scampered round like lean meat, and whimpered soft nothings to his man.

Poor fellow. Bellfellows had come a little early to ensure a great position. Even packed a tasty dinner. I watched him peel the lovely sausage, sniff its fatty aroma, then slice it onto two pieces of sweet-smelling farmer's loaf.
Even Sebastian enjoyed  the candle maker's magnanimity. 'Twoa fine pieces o' Yorksha sausage for uz fine pet.'
My nose twitched; a little envious I must say, but in my profession it's the tease of the prize that titillates the senses. I knew the sausages and fine bread would be in me before too long. Marinated in all juices the human body finds necessary to help a meal pass, I sensed the pleasure.
The village far below hummed with activity. Bellringing, flashing lights, fire smoke, and cackles and screams. Bellfellows leaned into his telescope and giggled along.
'Those bairns are avin eur fine tahhm dis evenin, Sebastian.' Silly little dog. He sat obediently by his master, and watched him swivel his hips and belch his happy wind.
I watched too. The rounds of beef on Bellfellows' hips and anus teased me immensely. I'd watched him in the shop, made fine small talk about this taper and that candelabra, but knew deep inside, it was his portly body that held most appeal.
An hour passed. Even my patience felt tested. Sebastian was fast asleep beside his giggling master.
Then I felt it; the cold light of October moon caressing my body. I sensed the hairs about my neck tease apart. Saliva flowed from fangs and dripped across my lips. My stomach rolled, and anger brewed from centuries before. The light, the faint, but bitter invitation to the werewolf, had struck.
Two strides. And his chubby neck was snapped. Blood flowed like rancid wine as flesh and bone were crushed. All of him: every succulent ounce of tender human flesh, each stitch of cloth, and drop of liquid.  
The joy was great, and stretched like a thousand years of memory. But in the time of then; fifty eight seconds.
Poor Sebastian slept on. But when he smelt the fur of dog, he whimpered. I still see those gormless eyes of hopeful brown. A relative of sorts, I supposed, so when his little heart gave way, I blew the breath of afterlife into his tiny nose. He lives, not as a dog of bone and flesh, but as pet, companion of the night.
Tonight the village is a modern town. From here on Nobby's Hill, Sebastian and I watch the festivities. The light is brighter, of course, and the shenanigans of Halloween puppetry and illumination flit above the buildings.
I look down at Sebastian. His empty flesh is clear with dimpled light. 'Eur girt neet for 'alloween, owd buddy.' I feel his cold breath upon my fingers.
No-one's been on the moors on Halloween since the disappearance of old Bellfellows. So Sebastian and I will need to visit. More danger; more excitement.
The streets of the town are still cobbled. Walking in the darkness, I feel young again. Sebastian whimpers. Rumpled light seeps down from streets ahead.
A man scampers past, tips his hat. ' 'Appy 'alloween, Mr Mayor.'
'Sem ta thee, Ashers.' He's a good groundsman, that one. And then children's chatter fills the air.
' 'Eear, Sebastian. Behin' t' wall. Tahhm ta 'arvest.' We stand like darkness in the shadows.
Two boys, roly-poly as tiny Bellfellows, bicker as they pass. A young girl, small and tender, follows, crying like the one who missed out.
Sebastian whimpers. The moon's aglow. 'Now, lahl 'un. Hunt!'
My cloak surrounds the boys, and Sebastian takes the female in one bite. We hurry to the hill and rest. The food is good, and Halloween's been generous.
I hear the town bell. 'Ah, Sebastian, uz pet. It's almost tahhm ta declare t' 'alloween celebrations open.'
Sebastian rubs his face along my leg. He knows how it all works now.


Halloween Horror Writing contest entry


Neya betta dog aroun' ... not a better dog around
We'll watch t' villidge 'alloween fra 'eear t'neet. ... We'll watch the village Halloween from here tonight.
'Eur girt neet for 'alloween, owd buddy.' ... 'a great night for Halloween, old buddy.'
Tahhm ta 'arvest.' ... Time to harvest.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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