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October 29th The announcement hit the internet like a bomb.

Mr. Zimmer didn’t want his last Halloween to end like this, alone in a dark cold room, an invalid while children and parents alike roamed the streets outside asking for candy and dressed in costumes. He remembered when he was young and fit, and when he hadn’t shattered his spine by falling off a roof setting up spooky decorations. At his old age, and with what little money his family possessed, it was easier for everyone to toss him into a nursing home. Easier for everyone except Mr. Zimmer…

“DRINK MOTHER FUCKERS, DRINK MOTHER FUCKERS, DRINK!” The noxiously artificial taste of blue raspberry slid down my throat with sickening sweetness. This was only my third drink of the evening, but I was already feeling pretty lit. “Alright you, stupid pledges now it’s time for the main event.”

I hope this message finds you well. I want to apologize for all the stress I’ve caused these past few months, and the least I can do is explain why I had to leave so abruptly. I do understand if this is a huge red flag to you seeing we’ve only been dating for eight months now. Here goes nothing.

I hate pumpkins, I hate jack-o-lanterns, and I hate Halloween. I guess I hate Halloween mostly because it means I have to see those disgusting things all over the place. On every porch, in every yard, and at every store I see them. They leer at me with crooked grins and empty eyes. Empty eyes that somehow follow my every move. I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about them. Even now I can peer out my window and see one on my neighbor’s stoop. It sits there, still as a cadaver. God, it’s…

Dude, I fucked up so bad. Now I’m in the hospital waiting for the cops to ask their questions that I don’t even really know the answers to. Trying to help me get my story straight? Alright man, here goes nothing.

There are a select few hidden among the population—those who are often keenly aware when they are dreaming. They can recall their dreams in vivid detail for days afterward. People like me, who can lucid dream with little effort. If you're one of them, you know that lucid dreaming can sometimes draw your consciousness into liminal spaces, places that exist between the familiar and the unknown. One of these spaces is what I call the Pumpkin Farm.

I tended to hate Halloween. Don’t get me wrong; the candy was always something I would look forward to. Hershey bars were especially my favorite. No, what I disliked about Halloween was dressing up. I’m certain you would find it odd as to why that is. My family had been through some hard times and as such, we often recycled cloths to create Halloween costumes. I was always made fun of because of my raggedy costumes. One time I went as a ghost and the costume was a mix match of fabrics that were…

“Good morning, Mei-Mei” every morning waking up I greeted the small doll usually tucked into my arm, snuggled closely into my chest. For a while Mei-mei was my only friend. For you see, I was born with a crippling condition that keeps me wheelchair bound, so you can guess how most of my life has played out…Hospital trips..bad days where I could hardly get out of bed, All the painful surgeries.

The year was 1976

She touched her, but pulled her hand away and glared at the woman with angry green eyes. She began speaking in a low voice that only the reflection could hear. The confusion and frustration was simmering white-hot now. Was the ornate mirror talking back? "I hate you. Leave me alone. You make me sick." Someone called her name and she snapped to attention. "It's not my fault. She's the one who started it. Can't you see that?"

The last Heather spoke to her mother was on Halloween of 2015 when she was twelve years old. Now, it is Halloween of 2024, and she is reminded of the lore that ruined every Halloween for her.

I’ve learned throughout my life that there are specific things that you should never do in your dreams. I’ve learned how to control my surroundings in a dream state, how to remember dreams, but the thing I will never forget was how I created a demon. It was simple to do, and completely accidental, but for those of you wondering how to do it, it is quite simple. All you have to do is break the three rules. Rule number 1: NEVER tell anyone in a dream that they are in your dream.

"Amen... Amen..." It was Sunday, Halloween day, and after the gospel singer was finished with her lyrics of praise, Pastor Newman spoke to his small group of church attendees in his lavaliere, which was attached to his shirt. He smiled warmly to the small gathering. It was a small room, but the main room of the Church was still under repair from the fire that happened 2 months ago, so everyone had to gather in this room for now.

Welcome the Horrify, A Halloween, and October tales. Where monsters roam wilder, and demons pass through. There will be 31 stories to tell. Throughout October. We had begun with the Haunted series. The tale and horror of The Ballerina. Let's begin and enter the shadows of night.

It was a chilly October night, the kind where the wind howled through the trees and the moon cast an eerie glow on everything it touched. I had just moved to Willow Creek, a small town known for its quaint charm and haunted history. Halloween was approaching, and with it came stories of the old Wright house, an abandoned mansion on the outskirts that everyone whispered about.

Cheap masks and Halloween themed clothing were the only ‘costumes’ at the Sprucer Halloween Festival. People in barely decorated Trunk-or-Treat trunks shoved canned food and/or random secondhand objects into kids’ hands. The ‘craft stations’ were several ancient fold-out tables someone had covered in literal trash.

In the flickering light of the torch, the old gold shimmered with a mesmerizing allure, a testament to the treasures of a bygone era. At long last, the avaricious seekers had found their prize, their hearts consumed by an insatiable hunger for wealth. "We shall be rich beyond measure," declared Sir Hampton with a triumphant laugh, his fingers greedily digging into the mounds of golden coins.

I consider myself a pretty average resident of Indianapolis, Indiana. I was born and raised here, went to school here, and I'm currently attending Martin University to earn my degree in Environmental Science. Just like my dad always wanted. I enjoy motorsports and home makeover shows, and I love me a good sugar cream pie. I've been called a 'Midwestern stereotype' more than once, but only by new acquaintances from uni. By people who don't know I haven't always been this way.

I have to remind myself. I don’t want to forget. I can’t forget again. For a while now I don’t even remember my own name from time to time, and I forget who my mom was. And my brother. I have to write down everything that happened before I go back there. Back to The Chimes. My name is Sam. My older brother was named Marcus.