The Zombies
By Mina & Saida

With trembling hands, the officer took out his pistol and shot at the zombie, but the zombie took the ammunition like he was thrown pieces of sweet candy. With no choice left, Melinda and the officer entered the car, stepping on the gas and speeding away through the forest to the nearest road.
After a couple of minutes, they reached the police station, and Melinda explained all the horrors of her night starting from the chicken and ending with Zach. She worried about Zach, and the police officer guaranteed her someone would help find her boyfriend. The officer, still shaken by the previous events, led Melinda to a questioning room. As she observed mirror made walls, she concluded that people watched her, recording her every word. A woman, wearing scrubs like a nurse would wear, walked into the room, giving Melinda hot chocolate and a blanket for warmth. An officer of higher authority walked into the room and Melinda reiterated everything to him, not leaving out details. As she spoke the officer convulsed and blue veins covered his face. She asked him if he felt okay, but he just looked up and gaped at her. His eye glowed, glowed with such astonishment like the corona of a solar eclipse.
“BERGAHHH” shouted the zombie.
"To Kill the Dead People”
Catherine Hall
“I confess that I killed my wife,” Bert Tucker sobbed, yanking on his yellow tweed shirt and blowing his nose.
Inside a black confessional box, Bert kneeled, begging and pleading for forgiveness. He tossed and turned, with no sleep, and no appetite whatsoever for the last two weeks of his life.
“I have violated one of the Ten Commandments, possibly the most important one—‘You shall not murder’” Bert lamented.
“Don’t worry. The Bible tells us that God forgives everyone for sinning, no matter how large or small that sin may be,” proclaimed Father Clifford.
Although the guilt had been almost too much to bear, after confessing, Bert released his internal struggles that rested within himself. At around 10:30 pm that night, Bert headed up to bed after a stressful day. Before he stepped into his bed, he noticed an open bible with Romans 5:12 highlighted, on his bed.
“How odd, I don’t remember reading the Bible today,” he thought.
Bert jadedly removed The Bible from his bed, figuring that he just must have forgotten reading it. The next morning, all the lights in the house beamed and glowed, and the electrical appliances flickered and sputtered.

Coniferous Carnivores
Oriana Fleming
Crying, nine-year-old Aubrey tugged on Jackson's Civil War soldier Halloween costume until he turned around. Asking Aubrey what disenchanted her, Jackson put down his cup of Cherry Coke and bent over until he was the height of the distraught little girl who stood in front of him.
"I can't find Milo and we have to go home," she told Jackson, looking frantically around the Halloween party, scanning for her devil-horned brother. Because of the unpleasant dilemma that currently challenged Aubrey, she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve, in turn wiping her sleeve upon her skirt.
Jackson patted the juvenile child's head, and told her Milo retired for the evening and left the party, forcing Aubrey to find alternate transportation. Aubrey, being childish, innocent, and unable to think logically on her own, cried at a loss of how to return home. Only one option popped into Aubrey's little cranium: to walk home by herself. She was not afraid of anything except heights, so walking home alone was not problematic. She politely thanked Jackson and walked out the door with her little basket. Aubrey stepped onto the curb, looked both ways, and crossed the street, walking towards the extensive thicket that separated her house from the rest of the world. Aubrey knew the path home perfectly, but she never walked through the thicket by herself or in the middle of the night. Telling herself that she was spooked because of the Halloween party she just attended, Aubrey held her basket close to her Snow White costume to ward off any invisible evils that might be lurking behind the foliage. Aubrey, as much as she wanted not to walk through the thicket alone, could find no other alternative, and stepped into the looming darkness. Alec Temes / David LenahanGame Over
Walking down the moon-lit street, Chris sighed, observing the beautiful, but foreboding, Halloween night. He dressed as Link while trick-or-treating, the main character from his favorite video game. Chris, suddenly alert with some apprehension, perceived that he seemed to be the only Trick-or-Treater in sight. This feeling was soon expelled from his mind upon seeing another costume-donned teenager. The other adolescent, Chris noticed with some joy, was dressed as an adversary from the same video game. Without missing a beat, the two fell into mock battle. Chris used moves from the game and was delighted that the enemy knew the moves and could play off of them. When he decided to end the battle, Chris struck the enemy, and he ran off playfully. Chris, happy that he wasn’t the only geek out, continued walking down the street.
Down the block, someone else suddenly appeared. Chris was unsure where he came from; but strangely, he was dressed as another enemy character. Chris, now a little wary of the kid, began to notice something strange; the new trick-or-treater was different. His sword even glistened as if it was real metal. In an instant, they began to fight as before. Except, differently, the new enemy seemed to take the fight very seriously.










Silent are the Wise

Priscilla Wood gasped when she glanced at the Parsons’ vintage Grandfather clock. With a cuckoo bird screeching, the decrepit clock tolled, signaling midnight. Rubbing her suddenly sweating hands together, Cilla announced her departure very civilly, though a closer look would betray utter terror upon her face. Cilla, popping up from the worn couch, mentioned that she believed this party was lame (in order to look as if she would stay late if it was cool enough) and blew kisses in everyone’s direction. Expertly completing the attack on the mediocre nature of this party, she delivered the final blow. Demanding Tiphanie- the hostess herself- to escort her down the hall, she marched sassily to the regal door. This daring and cruel action, which could only amount to ceaseless pain for poor Tiphanie’s life, tore apart Tiphanie’s social status. Tiphanie acted a little broken and close to tears, but Cilla just shrugged. When she hugged her best friend, she shot her a look that explained the current situation. Always in the know and always very accepting of dire situations such as this, Tiphanie closed the door slowly with a weak smile. After laughing quietly for some time, Cilla clunked down the steps in her designer stilettos. Besides the fact that she was most likely going to be grounded for the remainder of her life, Cilla smiled. This was the best Halloween yet; Priscilla dressed as a princess, a costume less then original, but certainly fitting. In such beautiful attire, she eagerly snatched Dempsey’s numb-Cilla nearly jumped ten feet when her phone buzzed. The screen glowed her mother’s name, so she sighed and answered it.
Claire Stemen

1Fred walked through the church when suddenly, from the wooden balcony, the church choir – belting out “Up From the Grave He Arose” – poured stale milk over his reddish orange hair. 3Looking towards the balcony and raising his fists, he dropped to his knees and crawled under the pews. 3Army-crawling under the pews, Fred raced from the church and nearly collided into a squirrel – a mangled-brown furred squirrel, holding a melon scooper, his eyes tinged with blood. 1Fred turned to double check, but did not have time to look because the choir was closing in fast.
4Fred, blood pounding in his ears, sprinted to the park where he came across a group of neighborhood kids. 2When he reached the group, Fred spotted his little sister, Sophie, standing in the middle, her small frame overwhelmed by everyone standing over her. 3In a panic, Fred acted out his story, still trembling as he recited what he could remember. 1He informed the skeptical group of his mere escape from the gospel choir pouring spoiled milk on him. 4The group, assuming it was just another one of Fred’s crazy imaginary adventures, shook their heads, dismissing his nonsense ranting. 1Clementine trembled in fear of the psycho, killer squirrel from the moment Fred started his tale. 4Rick, the buff football player with muscles as big as melons and a brain the size of a pea, and Chewbacca, who were both in this group of peers, rolled their eyes at every word Fred uttered about the choir and the squirrel. 3Though only eight years old, Sophie nodded her head in agreement that it was illogical and never could have happened, especially the fact that a crazy squirrel tried to attack the choir. 1Fred sulked away from the group, rather discouraged, and traveled home to eat some Sponge Bob mac n’ cheese to boost his spirits.
Cara and Sarah



The Legend of Bernard Van Ogle

2 As he shivered, his teeth chattering in the cold air of the asylum, the fluorescent lamps flickering on and off, Bernard gazed in upon his lifeless cellmate, spinning slowly on the shoelace from which he dangled. 4 Bernard Van Ogle, as he was listed in the institution’s directory, tottered at the doorway of that familiar cell, unable to comprehend the situation in which he stood. 3 Lacking the necessities to pass any federal health codes, the damp, gray walls of this cell spoke of all of Bernard’s miserable stories that had passed over the last nine years. 1 This Northerly pointing cell rarely captured any rays of sunlight, pushing any human being to the edge; Bernard’s only source of comfort was given to him by his warm, yet criminally insane cell-mate, Marcell. 3 At this very moment, however, Bernie stumbled as if he was alone in that endless corridor, the only sound coming from the torturous drip from the crack in the ceiling.
4 Marcel, or rather the blue and lifeless body of Marcel, strangely twisted back and forth on that fated shoelace. 3 Having lived with his companion for the majority of his stay at St. Lucifer’s State Asylum, the anticipation of Marcel’s suicide never floated in Bernard’s mind on such a crisp November afternoon. 4 Bernard, suddenly with the aplomb very uncharacteristic of the criminally insane, bellowed with a dark, booming voice to the overweight guard at the end of the hallway, who had harassed him a countless number of times.
Harry Konangi

The Escaped Convict
Belle Perry-Moore
As they turned the corner onto the street of the convict’s house, their hearts ceased to beat, their breath halted in mid air, and the whole world stopped and gaped at the silence and vacancy of the house before them. It could have been any type of house; it could have been a cottage with a flourishing pasture in the front, or a modern-styled house with crystal glass walls and an ample driveway, but knowing their circumstance, it was destined to be an abandoned mansion. Trembling with every step, they walked up the cement walkway barely tripping from all the cracks and risings of the overturned pieces of stone; it seemed to take eternity for them to reach the huge double doors standing over them about to consume them. Greg lifted his heavy hand and reached for the door knob, turning it as slowly as possible, pushing the door with the most explicit touch afraid that if he opened it too hurriedly the creak would tear his insides to shreds. After what seemed like an hour, the door hovered open, enough for the two boys to slip through; but just as they were about to step forward into the dark abyss, they were summoned inside the threshold and trapped with the slam of the gargantuan door behind them.
Aggy's Reflection
The time was ten o‘clock and trick or treating ended. To get home, the girls had to cross over a bridge that overlooked a small river. While walking down the bridge, Aggy dropped her candy and it fell over the side, into the darkness. From the bridge to the river was a long ways down but she wanted her candy and no one was going to stop her from getting it. She descended into the side of the river into the dark abyss of the night and all was silent. The aura around her was eerie and a sudden blast of cold air swept across her body. As she walked farther down to try to find her candy, fog came out of the sewage pipe a few feet away, minimizing what little she could already see. Just as Agatha reached for her candy, a hand popped out of the river and pulled her down. She tried to scream but she had no voice and as the water enclosed around her she couldn’t breathe; all traces of life that were fervent slowly faded into the background. The great force pulling her farther and farther down into the depths of evil, into this unknown place of opaqueness, never let go. She felt mind numbing pain spread throughout her head and her surroundings were no longer black, they turned red and she could hear dark voices whispering in the background…
Now every time a raindrop appears-- so does Aggy’s face.
Sierra Burleson


Adam & Blake

The Picture That Was Never Meant to Be looked At


One day a thousand years ago, a demonic painter stroked his brush on a canvas making a portrait of a rich aristocratic family, with much power and influence. This painting, spawned by Karl Von Massintuger, perched itself in their house. After the painting was finished, the family vanished, never to be seen again. To this day, nobody has resided in the house...until now.
Meanwhile, by carving pumpkins the Doe family prepared for Halloween, like they do every year. John, the elder of the two Doe sons and his younger brother Steve, gauged down the freshly baked pumpkin seeds as they were pulled out of the oven. The day, similar to most days in the Doe household, jolted to life when the mail arrived. Receiving a letter in the mail, John tore the envelope open, because he does not get mail often. While he quickly read the letter aloud, John dropped his jaw when he read that he had just inherited a mansion in Shady Town, PA.
Moving excitedly, John quickly packed up his bags and hopped into the car, heading to his new mansion. The long drive took forever, seeing the same scenery for the entire trip, going through a forest, then again it was Pennsylvania. During his shady drive to his new home, John called Steve to cordially invite him to spend the night at his newly acquired mansion. Steve quickly responded with a “yyuuuup”, bubbling with excitement he started on his way to meet his brother.

The Happy Bakers
“That’s it!” said James.
“That’s what?” asked Timmy.
“Do you hear that sound?” James shouted. Timmy looked at him and nodded.
“That’s the sound that kept me up last night!” They opened the door to the kitchen, took a few steps forward, and then stopped dead in their tracks. Before them was a whisk stirring in a metal mixing bowl, making the scraping sound. No human being was touching the whisk. The kitchen door slammed shut, and they both screamed. James struggled to open it, but it was locked. They yelled and yelled, and out of the corner of his eye Timmy noticed something moving on the wall. It was a piping bag! It was coating the wall with icing. James and Timmy stood back, frozen, watching the bag.
“Wait,” said James, “it’s writing a message!” Timmy threw himself on the ground and started sobbing in horror. James, his body quivering, wanted to see what it was writing.
“B, E, A, H, A, P, P, Y,” James read as the bag piped, “B, A, K, E, R…B-E-A-H-A-P-P-Y-B-A-K-E-R…Be a Happy Baker? What?”

The bag of icing fell to the floor after piping the message. James grabbed Timmy and pulled him off the ground.
“C’mon! Help me!” James screamed.
James grabbed the door handle and shook it. Finally, he kicked the doorknob, and it fell off. He pushed open the door and they both ran out of the kitchen, out of the bakery, and they continued running their separate ways home. That was the last time James saw Timmy saw each other.

Ian Adams
Marisa Arancibia: SAVANNAH'S LULLABY
The music played softly and sweetly, notes sliding off one another with ease.
Outside, on the cold and windy day of October 1st cars, passed and dogs barked,
though inside besides the music playing on the radio--all was silent. Serena Chinatori's life had ended, but
the music from her radio played on and on...
“Pick a pumpkin already!” Savannah Bernard whined to her little brother.
“Goodness, gracious! You’re not picking a wife!” Isaac picked his way through the
fields and blew out a long breath.
“You promised you wouldn’t whine!” he said crossly rubbing his hands together to
keep himself warm.
“I’m not whining,” Savannah mumbled, brushing her long chestnut hair into a
ponytail.Ever since he had had his birthday two weeks ago, he had become very
bossy and serious, acting more like a 30 yr old than a 3rd grader. She’d brought him to
a pumpkin picking orchard in the hopes that the old tradition would rekindle his youth—
but nothing whatsoever had changed. Even though she understood that Isaac took the
choosing of pumpkins very seriously, the old guy with the leather jacket two rows over
was starting to creep Savannah out. “Alright, that’s enough, kid, just pick one and let’s
go!” she said and started walking back to the store. Isaac followed with a disgruntled
look on his face, and a perfectly round pumpkin the size of a basketball--it was a wonder
he didn’t keel over from the weight. As Savannah paid for her and Isaac’s pumpkins
(hers was nowhere near as beautiful) the creeper with the leather jacket ambled over
and said with a chuckle,
“Would you like some help with those, miss...?”
“Savannah, and not from you—I mean, no thank you!” Savannah said, blushing
bright red, and ushering Isaac, who was speaking about gas prices with the manager,
out the door. They bustled quickly out, Isaac looking very proud of himself and
Savannah flustered. As she walked purposefully towards their blue jeep, Savannah
kept looking over her shoulder at the man with the leather jacket whom Jimmy--the
pumpkin patch owner, had called Roland Carson. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but
there was something a little off about him.
The Painting
Looking here and there at the various paintings, Jimmy strolled through the art museum. All of a sudden, he tripped on something lying on the ground. Glancing behind him, he almost said, “Excuse me,” but the words stopped on the way to his mouth. Maybe he just imagined the two-dimensional, watery figure smirking at him. The foot, barely visible yet solid enough to trip Jimmy, pointed out from under the figure’s many skirts, meaning to trip the poor person crossing her path.
Jimmy turned on his heel, wanting to run out of the room containing the watery figure. Halfway to the door leading out of the room, a watery dog appeared, yapping at his heels and nibbling at his pant legs. When Jimmy realized the dog blocked the way out completely, he decided to try communicating with the woman that originally tripped him. But the woman, Jimmy, and the dog no longer stood alone in the room. A man, with the same watery appearance, positioned himself between the woman and the yapping dog. Opening his mouth to speak, Jimmy took a step backwards simultaneously, to try and get away from these strange paintings. The dog, who still ran and barked obnoxiously, momentarily forgot to block the door.
Alexa Fedynsky
The Neighbor Things were getting really weird, really fast but Jimmy still went to meet Roger. Jimmy and Roger went trick or treating like on any normal Halloween but they were nearing their last stop . . . Old man Jenkins's house. Jimmy was trembling as Roger went up to the door. He managed to lag a bit behind Roger, his excuse being that he was tying his shoe. The door flew open and Old man Jenkins, with a look so terrifying and crazy, hacked Roger to death with a garden hoe. Jimmy screamed, he turned and ran as fast as he could, tears streaming down his cheeks as fast as the blood gushing out of Rogers’s neck. Jimmy ran home, ran inside of his house to look for his dad. He could not find him anywhere so he ran downstairs to lock the doors and found old man Jenkins in his house blocking his way. He ran into the living room but there was know where to hide, he was corned by the old man, crazy as ever foaming at the mouth, slowly walking towards him holding his garden hoe menacingly above his head, Rogers crimson blood still dripping from the blade . . .Zeph Sawyer