Somewhere near the middle of England there is a house. This house is surrounded by lots of other similar houses as it is one of many on a housing estate. This one house in particular is special for a very good reason. Every year, on one day of the year all the lights in the house go off and nobody leaves or enters. This day is Halloween. The night of scares. The time when the spirit world is closest to ours. So, it is strange that on this night of ghosts and goblins that this single house would become shrouded in darkness.
Little children in their costumes would happily skip along the street, visiting every house in the hopes of receiving a sweet treat. These children didn’t dare knock on the door of the dark house.
This Halloween, somebody did knock on the door. The girl dressed as a princess fairy waited a few moments, not knowing what would be the result of this rare and potentially dangerous act. Nothing happened. There was no answer and the door didn’t open. The happy Halloweener then left, confused but also relieved at the fact that so little had occurred.
Inside the house the inhabitants were hiding behind a couch, trying to put as much as they could between them and the door as if afraid that something was coming to get them.
Outside of the house, Halloween went on as normal with all the joy that the evening usually brought. Witches, Mummies, Devils and Draculas roamed around as happy as ever.
One child claimed that their Frankenstein costume had earned them a chocolate from every house on the estate. The boy waved his bucket of brown delights high in the air for all to see.
Then another child, this one dressed as a Devil pointed out that nothing had been gained from the dark house so not every house had been visited.
The little Frankenstein made his way cautiously past the brown garden fence, up the paving stone steps and knocked on the door of the house of darkness. Nothing happened. This child was determined so he knocked again. Nothing happened.
The boy noticed that one of the windows had been left ajar, on the latch. He wondered if it would be possible to wrench it open, to use some dirty tricks to get his own treats.
As the boy approached the window, nothing happened.
As the boy gripped the outer windowsill, nothing happened.
As the boy used all his strength to pull himself up he heard a terrible scream of pain and fear.
After letting himself fall to the ground the little Frankenstein ran away screaming, tears flowing down his face, removing his face paint. Something had really scared the boy.
Inside the house the inhabitants had turned on the TV and were watching a horror film. They all knew that they were safe from any real monsters, embracing the darkness for so many years had meant trick or treating children would leave them alone. This was good. This meant that everyone could be happy doing their own thing.
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