Editor’s Note: This story mentions suicide.
“Room with a Boo”
by J. T. Seate
The well-appointed room looked similar to any other, but it was their room. The cool air from the open window that looked upon the picturesque Adirondacks washed over Helen. It was just as she remembered. She breathed deeply, remembering the words William had spoken ten years earlier.
“If I die, will you marry me?”
“Why would I marry you if you’re dead?” she’d answered.
Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Room with a Boo by J. T. Seate
by Greer Thompson
Sometimes you’ve got to get creative to solve a ghost problem.
I’ve been just trying to live with it for a few months after moving into this “fixer upper” my criminal of a real-estate agent sold me on. “Oh it has so much character,” she said. I’d barely gotten my futon set up in the one upstairs bedroom with openable windows when the haunting started. Plates flying across the room and shit. It was crazy! And, fuck it, I like my plates. Those girls from the bar that ran home? Whatever, it wasn’t personal and my vibrator can cover. But those plates were special! They had Winnie the Pooh on them! So, dammit, I was going to solve this bitch once and for all.
I checked out every half-related book from the library and raided the local Barnes and Noble’s metaphysical section, grabbing anything that wasn’t only about aliens who abduct farmers and help them express their most repressed desires. I started with the basics. A Ouija board let me talk to her the last few months. It is a her, after all, and she’s not much of a bitch at all. Sweet girl, goes by Ellie. I introduced myself, but she kept getting confused. Thinking it was 1927, maybe ’28 at the latest. She insisted she hadn’t broken anything of mine. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Haunting Touches by Greer Thompson
Editor’s Note: We here at Circlet Press want everyone to be able to enjoy our stories. In that spirit, please be advised that the following story deals with the subject of suicide in a detailed fashion. However, if you can muster the strength to read it, I do highly recommend that you do so as this story is truly unique and beautiful in its own way. Thank you.
by Trisha J. Wooldridge
The bathtub and suds were just for effect.
Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Manipulation by Trisha J. Wooldridge
by Jean Roberta
“Too bad there’s no sex in those old books you teach.” My friend Woody was trying to provoke me. It was her way of flirting.
I had taught a dreaded, required composition class at the technical school where she taught Industrial Arts until I landed the job I really wanted, teaching English lit at the university. Woody knew as much about literature as I knew about carpentry, but we always found something to talk about over coffee.
“There is,” I told her. “You just have to look for it.” We were alone in my office.
“You got a favorite scene?” Her blue eyes sparkled.
Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Ruined by Jean Roberta
“A Contract Until Dawn”
by Sita Bethel
“What’s your name, daemon?”
The demon ignored his summoner, staring at the sigils on the floor, scanning the rust colored markings for errors or weak points. The room looked unremarkable, barrels of apples and squash stashed in the corners, round, fat pumpkins beside them, the typical fall harvest. So many would-be necromancers and wizards tried to summon a demon during the last night of October.
A soft chuckle brought his gold eyes back up to face the wizard who’d pulled him into the physical world. He looked delicate, fresh glass still cooling from a blower’s wand. His long, black ponytail slung over his right shoulder and the gray eyes flashed in dim, wavering light of a dozen tallow candles.
Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: A Contract Until Dawn by Sita Bethel
by Sommer Marsden
“Take off your pants, Din-Din,” she says.
I laugh. “How did Daniel become Din-Din?”
She shrugs. “It’s cute. And doesn’t it mean dinner sometimes? Maybe it’s because I like to eat you,” Felicia purrs. She drops to her knees and works my belt since I have yet to do it.
Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Din-Din by Sommer Marsden
by Cat Voleur
“What are you doing?” The question came from a surprised Delilah as she was ushered into one of the Moreau Manor’s spare bedrooms by her girlfriend, Genevieve. “We’re going to lose the tour group.”
Gen locked the door behind them and turned to her partner with that wicked grin of hers. “Forget about the group.”
“This tour was your idea. You wanted to hear firsthand what they were saying about the place. Besides, what if someone notices we’re gone?”
“Delilah,” Gen’s fingers deftly worked to undo the buttons of her blouse one by one as she stepped forward, slowly closing the gap between them. Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Touring Moreau by Cat Voleur
by Jordan Castillo Price
The Midwest is full of huge gaps where things once thrived, until the Interstate landed…somewhere else. Wild Bill and I found this house between cornfields in the middle of Iowa. “Watch out for busted needles, Mikey,” Bill had warned me. “This was a squatter’s paradise. Once.”
Only one bedroom had miraculously survived the warp and rot that took the rest of the house. It was before dusk when I woke there, squeezed in a little kid’s bed. I pried myself out from between Bill and the wall and scratched my stubble. I needed a shave, which wasn’t gonna happen. No electricity, no water. I fingered sleep and old eyeliner from the corner of my eye, pulled a strand of hair out of my mouth, and blinked. Cowboy sheets. What more could we want?
Wild Bill was still fast asleep. He tells me that what you see in the movies, about vampires being dead while the sun is high, is all a load of crap. He says he’s just a very deep sleeper.
I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to the slow, deep thrum of his heart. No, not dead. Just sleeping for all he was worth. Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: Heaven Sent by Jordan Castillo Price
And Then No More of Thee and Me
by Vinnie Tesla
The door to his bedroom was ajar, but, maddeningly, not quite wide enough for her to pass through. Pushing herself through solid objects was still hard work, though she was getting better at it. The feeling of the heavy wood composite sliding inside her was intensely, indefinably uncomfortable, as if her entire body was one complaining funny bone. At one point she was seized with panic that she would be stuck there, unable to muster the strength to pull herself off in either direction.
Eventually, though, she made it inside the room. It looked just as she remembered. The pile of dirty clothes in one corner and the massive wooden dresser were vague, familiar shapes in the dark. A streetlight by the open window illuminated his nude, sleeping body. His torso looked pale; his cock lolled, a little swollen, against one bent thigh. Continue reading Halloween Microfiction: And Then No More of Thee and Me by Vinnie Tesla