Halloween Dare

Tonight was the night... four wild teens, armed with a plan

Torch, camera, tea light's, salty snacks... packed in rucksack 

With their long-awaited freedom... they’d formed a clan

October’s sky adorned... magnificent full moon

Two hours before parents designated curfew

Tonight would be their first festive Trick-or-Treat dare

Adrenaline pumping rapidly... but they weren’t scared! 

They met up outside the dilapidated house; 

confident they'd get in, excited.... they’d no doubts 

Miss Pulpo, spinster, old teacher... who’d long since passed 

Her house stood derelict... in state of ill-repute

All windows, doors boarded securely... nailed tight shut 

Mounting gate; only deterrent... neighbourhood mutt

Rotten boards they managed, with ease, to prise open;

to impress girls, Karate chopped... they'd broken 

Alan and John demonstrating... strong male prowess

Two girls, Lisa and Kate, they glowed... dressed to impress

(best friends from pre-school) drawn to all things... dangerous! 

Into abandoned house... they stealthily entered 

Cheering success, with stifled, tipsy... giggle grins 

Drinking, and lighting up their stolen cigarettes

They roamed through the house with foolhardy... cocksureness

Downing cheap cider from the plastic bottle’s neck

Lighting tinned candles with zippo lighter’s... finesse

Began to chalk Ouija board’s precise sequence 

The girls taking great pains... their artwork to perfect

John asking “you think they’d deliver... Pizza Express?”

Multi-pack of crisps eaten and more cider drunk

They, at last, formed tight circle to perform seance

Kate had set her camera running to capture the scene 

All concentrating, thought it a farce... secretly 

They proceeded with ritual... in dim scanty-light

Things started to go wrong, as glass spun... heedlessly 

”I can’t keep hold... it's out of control!” Lisa screamed! 

“You must!” yelled Kate. “If you don't it will never... leave”

“WTF... there’s... smoke!” John exclaimed it disbelief! 

It was obvious now that no one was pushing,

when the glass flipped and took on a mind of its own

All four teens, transfixed, scared equally;

wished that they had stayed home... hadn't gone there alone 

They’d obviously summoned an evil entity

Shadowed figure appeared... clearly, cause for concern!

Boys were visibly shaken... turned a shade of stone 

The girls tried, in vain, to ask dark spirit to leave

Dawned on them at last... how they'd all been so naive!

They stared at each other...  utterly horrified! 

Evil flames flickering... fear’s torch burned in their eyes 

Iced fingers, bristled neck hairs... primal sense of dread 

Remembering... what John’s brother, Billy had said 

“Ouija board’s no toy, dudes... shouldn't mess with the dead.”

Glass levitated, cracked... shattered over their heads

The floor shook... the house creaked and heaved, as rubble fell

Before them... flamed archaic script words were spelled

They could only just make out... word repeated ‘DEATH’

The dark spirit, now maniacally cackling; 

crept, crawled slowly up each wall... like possessed mercury 

Rancid drips of white liquid fell from the ceiling 

onto the stunned teens’ heads... who were petrified

Hypnotised by the demonic apparition 

Gliding up and down... like white lava-lamp phantasm

Feeling a sickening... trickling sensation 

running down their faces... thick squirming cold liquid;

slipping into them... long tentacles of a squid

Alan ran for the door in a bid to escape 

but suddenly an ungodly vortex appeared in his way

Sucked him violently into eye‘s darkling cyclone 

His poor helpless body forever suspended

in terrible writhing, wailing... Hell’s echoed moans

Remaining three... jumped to their feet, clawed at window

Faces etched with blind panic... red-veined eyes distressed

Their fingertips bleeding as each snapped at nail beds 

One by one... each teen was pulled into the vortex 

All that was left behind... rucksack, empty bottle

House stood vacant.. eerily silent once more

The candles extinguished, Ouija’s inscriptions 

melted away debris’ veil of dust... erased

The only noise to be heard now... the old swing gate; 

squeeking, rusty... beyond blown-open rear door

Kate’s camera, still recording, on rat-knawed floorboards

Maybe months before personal effects are found  

Their lost souls forever... unto this house are bound 

Beware All Hallows Eve’s myths, legends... those unseen!

As the wayward tragic foursome’s story has shown 

No one knows... what of their poor young souls, has become

In fact... only Kate’s distorted footage remains 

But don't worry... I've stored it with rucksack, away,

underneath unmarked papers and empty textbooks

Somewhere... I know no one will ever think to look 

“Who me... what’s my name? I’m sorry didn't you know?”

“Why, Miss Pulpo - spinster, teacher... this is MY home!”

 

© Debbie Razey 2022 - Violet Moon Poetry