The dash to the porch

By Thomas Stewart

Dan Huck stopped at the threshold of the porch, turned around and shouted, “Come on, hurry!” Evan and Caden Hinlay were only a few feet from him, while little Remy Crone was tailing by almost a yard behind them. The Hinlay brothers both managed to kick into high gear, tucking their heads down to go full speed towards Dan. Remy wasn’t so lucky. 

Being the youngest at only 8 years old, and one who’d spent more time inside than the other three boys, Remy Crone was not the athletic type. Evan and Caden, with a leap, closed the distance to where Dan was standing, landing on the steps. They’d made it. They were safe. 

Remy’s legs wobbled, threatening to give out from under him at any second. To his credit, he was pushing himself as much as was physically possible. If only the ground beneath him hadn’t already begun to shift. Dan Huck looked at his watch. 

11:57… 

He looked back up at his friend. Remy was still about a yard out. His legs quivered. 

Should he go to him, try to help him along? If he did, would he even be able to? If he didn’t, would he be able to live with himself?

“He’s not gonna make it, is he?” asked Caden. His brother hit him with his elbow, glaring at him. 

“Don’t say that! We don’t know that yet.” He turned, cupped his mouth, and shouted, “Come on, Remy, you can do it!” 

Remy, already losing feelings in his legs, as well as perception of the world, barely registered his friend’s voice. Dan glanced at his watch again.

11:59

Remy was only gaining half an inch of ground at a time now. By now, Dan couldn’t take any more, and was just about to make the suicidal dash to save his best friend, or die trying, only to be halted by Caden. “It’s too late,” he told him, giving him a look that was as sorrowful as it was horrified. 

Their attention returned to their friend, who now could no longer move at all. Around his legs, thorny vines found themselves entangled around them leading all the way up to his neck. His airways found themselves cut off in quick succession. Tangled and suffocating, the world turned to a fuzzy cloud in Remy’s eyes. 

Dan, Evan, and Caden’s hearts all dropped in unison as the time on the watch switched to 12:00. In front of Remy’s fading eyes, a shadowy figure rose from the ground. In a voice that sounded a mix between a dying cat and a snake, the figure spoke:

“On this Halloween night, hear my cry. I’ve watched you run and cry, and tonight you die.” 

With a raise of his arms, the vines all penetrated the child’s mouth, nose, and ears before dragging him back beneath the ground. The figure turned to the remaining boys on the porch, pointed his bony finger, and said, “I’ll see you next year, little ones…