Sunday Feature 9

Two Sundays ago I requested scary stories for October. Here are the first two to come in. You still have till Halloween to get them in, and as in past years, you may submit oral versions rather than written if you wish.



1.

"Darling, someone's in the house. I heard a noise from the bathroom." Sheila the she-ghost sat up, her nightgown shimmering.

"Yes dear. It's EE. He's the new owner. He bought the house," Howard the he-ghost mumbled and rolled over, yanking all the blankets over his shoulders. A Springer Spaniel scratched at the door to the room and whined.

"He's got a dog in our house! Doesn't he know I'm allergic to dog hair?"

"We're haunting him, remember? It was your coven's idea." Howard sighed into the pillow and smacked his lips. It wasn't morning breath yet but it was getting there. Sheila, determined to have her husband do his husbandly duty, pulled the blanket off and smacked his bare butt. Gossamer waves of cold mist spread across the room. "Get out there. Are you a man or a mouse?"

"Woooooooo..." He reached and thumped the floor like a heartbeat.

"Eeeeeeeeeee..." Her moans floated through the house.

Belches, groans and nether-region noises echoed from the tile walls. A nearly living vaporous emission capable of bug control and EPA sanction spread from the bathroom door across the master bedroom. The ethereal waves of psychic energy turned green, quivered and evaporated. Shiela's moans turned into gags. Howard rolled off the bed in one thump.

"This is the man you wanted to publish your book?" Spectral tears glimmered as they rolled down Sheila's cheeks.

"That was the blog talk." Howard blew out a cloud of frothy plasma. It freshened the air and created a cold room for them to materialize. EE unleashed another series of belches, groans and nether-region noises. Sheila and Howard fled through the window toward a beam of starlight from Polaris.

EE stood alone in his house. "I refuse to be haunted by rejected writers. All it takes is a hearty meal of asparagus, garlic, three bean salad and hummus and the ghosts leave."

--Dave F.


2.

When the moon grows cold and the night winds blow
And the ghosts of those who met his gaze
Bemoan their cruel fates with tears of sorrow
Now is time the for great fear of New York to wander free
And save the life of an innocent tree

They cry out in fear and horror
Their lives ruined, their dreams ablaze
With fire from his eyes a constant terror
They leap from buildings, bridges, or flee
For they have queried
The mighty EE.

--Khazar-khum