Home > Creative Writing > Short Stories
Created on: September 21, 2009
'All Hollow's Eve'
The sun set on All Hollow's Eve blood red. It stained the houses walls and windows, washing into the harbor where it glistened into the failing light like crimson jewels. The dark came silently and choked the town in its strong grip.
The starless night crept slowly along as the old clock towers hands inched painfully towards midnight. All was quiet and still. When the clock reached twelve, no sound came from the old brass bells. Instead, and eerie wail from the black waters broke the deathly silence.
The harbors water began to churn as if stirred from deep below the surface. The prow of a ship emerged from the ocean's depths. It glowed with a strange light that illuminated odd shapes clanging among torn rigging. The figures swarmed into the air, smothering the light from the silver moon and the festival lanterns decorating the homes.
Skeletal shapes began to float down cobbled streets, peeking through windows, searching for something not found. They tore apart pumpkins lining small porches and scraped sharp, nail-like claws down doors. The masses of boned bodies seemed to be led by a tall skeleton wearing a black robe. He screeched orders until every last cheery decoration had been destroyed. A glisten of gold caught his rotted eye and turned his attention to a large monument in the middle of a flowered square.
He gazed at the plaque on the wall as if reading it: Here lies Mayor Johnson. The seas are cleaner because of him.
Then the bottom seemed to drop out of the world. The shaking monument dropped its plaque which broke into a million pieces and fell to the ground. Close to where the shattered gold fragments hit the powdery dust, bones had been unearthed. They assembled, and temporarily hung in mid-air. The bleached bones shook as the robed skeleton lifted his arm. Suddenly, the robed leader shrieked and the floating bones disintegrated into a powder. The vanquished spirit of the mayor took off into the night.
The clock tower bells clanged once. The unearthly light from the decaying ship began to fade and the smaller skeletons shrunk back, almost as in fear, and retreated into the ship. The robed figure glanced once more around and howled the first, and last, words spoken: Be wary of those lost at sea, for the dead will revenge ye.
Everything was black. Even the sun did not shine later that day, as if refusing to shed light on the trampled decorations and ravaged town. The harbor was engulfed in fog and rain, the unleashing of the tears of those lost unjustly to the rolling waves.
The End.
Learn more about this author, Hillary Allen.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.
Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:
Short stories: Haunting
MY HOUSE
During the summer of 1996, I moved out of dad’s house to a small one-bedroom apartment in the city. It was
They were the last two survivors of an investigation gone horribly wrong, but for everything that happened to them and their
No Mercy
He sat alone in his room, listening, just listening. He hadn't slept in days. He couldn't bear the thought of opening
The tinkle of bells on the door startled the young man in his mid twenties as he entered a store on a busy street to get
Tom had expected the man to look creepy, if not outright ghoulish, but he could have passed for an attorney or a stock broker.
View All Articles on: Short stories: Haunting
Featured Partner
The Buckeye Institute for Public Policy Solutions is a nonpartisan research and educational institute devoted to individual liberty, economic freedom, personal responsibility and limited government in Ohio. It is committed to quality res...more