“The Greatest Halloween Prank Ever” - A Spooky Halloween Story by Ty Steinbrunner

Mikey Malcolms had been in the woods for at least an hour now. Tommy, the pudgy kid from our class thought he was looking at nudie mags, so he stormed home, probably to go tell his Mom on us. Truthfully, my friend Mikey was in there concocting something sinister.

I know because we had planned this at school today.

EIGHT HOURS BEFORE IT HAPPENED…

“You aren’t really going trick or treating are you?” Mikey asked me as he flipped through his peas. I had already eaten mine.

“That’s for babies dude, of course not,” I replied. A fourth grader does not go trick or treating.

“Yeah…my Mom keeps asking me about what I’m gonna dress up as and…well, I was only checking with you first,” Mikey said with some denial in his voice. He quickly added. “Would you wanna do something fun instead?”

For the rest of the school day, Mikey and I sat in the back of the class, drawing up the most insane Halloween prank ever known to man.

On Halloween, the neighborhood committee hosts their annual party at the poolhouse. Everybody in our neighborhood goes to it and it’s always a drag; and because fourth graders don’t go trick-or-treating, Mikey and I thought we’d make some fun and mess with the people hanging out at that bore-fest.

We both agreed to meet by the woods right after school and not a second later.

…FOUR HOURS…

There was an itsy-bitsy, teeny-tiny part of me that thought Pudgy Tom would ruin the whole thing. He’d ruin it not because he knew that we were gonna swap out the party’s punch bowls, but because he thought we were looking at boobs. To be caught looking at boobs is the worst possible thing that can happen to a guy.

Either way, I was glad that he’d gone home because I was supposed to be on guard.

Mikey had stolen a secret recipe from his older brother’s room that supposably described how to perfectly imitate a bowl of fruit punch. Instead of delicious cherry liquid, the bowl we planned on switching out would be nothing but a smooth, spicy, chili pepper drink.

I waited by the woods, half expecting his older brother to come and find us and whoop our butts. Luckily, there was no sign of him.

Finally, and right when I got sick of waiting, Mikey returned from the woods without the bowl.

“What the Hell were you doing then?” I said confused, pointing to his empty hands.

“Relax, we’re gonna hide it in the woods until it’s time.” Mikey dusted his hands off and fished his brother’s recipe from his back pocket. “Hey ‘lookit this though.”

I trusted him. Mikey pointed to the rumpled piece of crumple. First I noticed how crinkly and yellow it was from God knows what. Its condition looked like Mikey had just ripped it out of whatever book it was from. No class in stealing this guy. Aside from its physical state, the second thing I noticed was the bizarre script that covered practically every section of the page. Text so small you could barely make out the alien language.

I guess I understood why it took him so long now. I couldn’t read the scrap for crap.

“Look right there.” Mikey pointed toward the bottom of the page, toward a little picture of what looked like a face. I didn’t really know what to think and I don’t think Mikey did either.

In the bottom left corner of the recipe was this hand-drawn face. It was weird and so small you probably wouldn’t notice it.

Clearly, it freaked Mikey out, or maybe it was freaking me out.

“Isn’t that weird?” Mikey laughed at it.

I didn’t feel like laughing because I didn’t think it was very funny. It was really unsettling. It was just a head, with two dark holes for eyes and a gaped, almost enthusiastic-looking smile.

That was it. The rest was up for interpretation.

Mikey tapped me on the shoulder and I shuddered a bit.

“You wanna go play Mario until the party?” Mikey asked.

…ONE HOUR TO GO…

We hung out and killed some time in front of Mikey’s TV. For a bit, I had mostly forgotten about our devilish trick and that Face. That rotten Face. I caught one last peep of it by accident right before returning the torn paper back to his brother’s room. I made sure that my hand was covering it, blocking it out. I didn’t wanna see it.

Mikey said the book he ripped it from was under his brother’s bed ‘plain as day’.

I wanted to be quick, I had never met anyone’s older brother before nor did I have one. He’d probably hurt me if he caught me.

There were candles positioned all around his room. It was dark and the curtains were drawn. I looked at the posters on his walls, with this one featuring a lanky dude who looked like a lady - or maybe it was a lady. Yes, I saw long, red hair and yes I saw boobs…but missing those ‘thingies on the boobs.

There it is! I saw the tattered book peek from the darkness.

I got on my belly and squirmed under his bed to reach it. I couldn’t tell if it was just nerves or if my hands were sweaty but when I grabbed at the cover it felt really hot. Hot to the touch. I hesitated, touched it again, and it was fine, completely cool.

I pulled it out to get a better look and sneak the shabby paper back in. The cover read:

“MOLOCH, ZLLD”

Those are some weird adult words? Like ‘congruency’ and ‘liable’.

The book was something I had never seen beofre. It was really, really old. I figured his brother checked it out during his library period and never returned it. I did that with Garfield once.

Not only was I gonna put the page back as perfectly as I could, but a curious part of me wanted to flip through the pages, kinda hoping to see that Face again…or something else to balance out the anomaly of such a horrid character.

Show me something else. How ‘bout a silly one? As if the first Face wasn’t gut-wrenching enough, and not in a funny way. It was not funny Mikey.

Inside the book was that strange alien writing again. What is that Mexican? I liked to believe I was the best in my phonics class. Better than Mikey!

Strange, as I flipped back and forth I couldn’t find the spot where Mikey ripped the page out. There was no torn edge to match the paper. No Face. No Face. I didn’t want to hold it anymore. It felt like a hole was being burned behind my hand, right where its hollow eyes were.

No Face. No Face. So, I just shoved the page in, closed it tight, kicked the book under the bed, and ran out.

After some serious gaming, someone called from downstairs.

“Boys we’re headed out!” It was Ms. Malcolms, Mikey’s Mom.

She was gonna take Mikey’s little sister to the Halloween party. I thought about his four-year-old sister tasting the spicy punch and then crying. Her Face gettin’ all red and tear-struck. Face.

“Sure thing Ma!” Mikey flashed me a snickering grin. She called up again.

“Your costume stuff is on the table!” She yelled and shut the front door on her way out.

His cheeky smile quickly faded and Mikey turned red from embarrassment. Fourth Graders do not go trick or treating! But I guess Mikey does! Ha!

“Well…what are you gonna wear?” He asked me messing with his hands. Misery loves company.

…30 MINUTES…

…later we were on our way to pick up the punch bowl from the woods. It started fun.

I snatched Mikey’s rocketship bedsheet, snipped some eye holes, and made a big one for my mouth. He didn’t even try to stop me from ruining his bedding, for Mikey was too distracted looking at his homemade face paint.

His Mom prepared him a clown costume, quite like the ones out of a cartoon. A sad, little clown. He kept touching his bulbous, blue nose. Some of the paint came off and he rubbed it right across one of my eye holes. Black-eye-ghost! Ha!

“Black-eye-ghost!” I laughed but noticed Mikey had abruptly stopped us right before the tree line. It wasn’t dark out yet but the party had definitely started; so I asked him what the hold-up was.

“What’re we doing? We’ll be late dude,” I said.

“Yeah…but did you notice that earlier,” Mikey said, pointed toward the entrance of the woods. I had not.

It was obviously a Halloween decoration. Or maybe it was just something typical you’d find in the woods.

It was a pile of bones. But there were a bunch, at least a hundred bones. They weren't really scattered either but jumbled around in a mess. They were dirty, different from the white ones you see at Party City or in the cartoons. They were gunky-lookin, burgandy splotched, infested, and poorly-eatin’ like a guy who doesn’t finish his chicken wings.

“A dog’s secret stash? I think I saw some bones here before?” I said, trying to make a clue of it. I was trying. “Dude it was so Pudgy Tom! He totally did this to scare us!” I laughed to lighten the mood.

“Yeah…but,” Mikey said. He looked like one scared clown, staring intently at the bones. I hadn’t thought much else and Pudgy Tom joshing us made the most sense to me. I walked past Mikey. I wasn’t gonna be the one waiting again.

I approached the array of bones to confirm it was a gag.

Oh fuck me.

It was the fucking Face again, delicately portrayed with femurs and snapped ribcages. It looked identical to the one from the page too. My heart fell into my stomach and I think I whimpered. I turned, Mikey was looking right at me - and then he laughed.

“Ha look at you! White as a ghost!” Mikey laughed, his blue nose rising and falling between chuckles. I was ticked and for a second speechless.

“Not right dude…not right,” I shook my shrouded head. “When did you do this?”

“Huh? What? I didn’t do this! But I know it makes you ‘ascared, just like earlier! You big baby!” Mikey bellowed and then walked past me to fetch the punch bowl. On his way he kicked the bones, tarnishing the creation. Good.

…MIKEY’S LITTLE SISTER GOT HERSELF A CUP…

We were a little late on our way to the pool house. Mikey gave me the punch bowl to hide underneath my ghost costume.

“Be careful with it!” He said.

“Relax, I got this,” I replied with both arms wrapped securely around the sides of the bowl.

Sneaking the punch past all the adults and partygoers would be easy. The hard part would be swapping the bowls without getting caught. There was already a rumor going around the neighborhood that someone was gonna spike the punch with liquor, at least that’s what my Ma said (and she wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea).

We both slipped into the side door, that connected the locker room with the main lobby. Nobody saw us.

It was a dingy little poolhouse and a weird place to host a party, but it could fit all of the thirty-something neighbors and clean-up would be easy. It had tons of drains on the floor, suited for the inevitable spills, the inevitable barf!

The neighborhood committee did a pretty cool job with the decorations. Fake bats, cobwebs (a weird part of me wanted to eat them), orange and purple party streamers; and best of all, the DJ playing my favorite song: White Wedding Part I and II, a full effect! The music echoed off the tiled walls.

I’ve heard of haunted houses before but they say I’m still too young to go. Psh! Not that I’m scared or anything. Face. I thought I felt the punch bowl slip for a second but again it was just my damn sweaty palms.

“There!” Mikey pointed to a concessions table packed with Halloween goodies and drinks. Sure enough, the punch bowl was unguarded, and the only person nearby was Pudgy Tom, back turned, and stuffing his face with free chocolates.

I wanted to call out and make fun of him, especially since he came without a costume; but Mikey must have known I’d try, so he pressed a finger against his blue clown lips to hush me.

We skittered across the dance floor, dodging legs and animated adults who couldn’t contain their excitement for their kids’ Halloween costumes.

There was my Ma dressed like Marge Simpson, and my Pa, yeah you guessed it, Bart. They were conveniently talking to Mikey’s Mom, who was holding the hand of his little sister.

His sister definitely spotted us moving by but said ‘nothin’.

Sorry! You’re in for it anyway little girl! I’m told older brothers are supposed to bully their little sisters, it’s code!

We made it across the floor. The coast was clear and we peeped our heads up from behind the concession table. We probably looked like Tom trying to be sneaky, like how he disregards a ‘take one please’ sign and frantically stuffs his pillowcase before someone see’s. In reality, nobody at the party cared what we were doing and nobody was watching.

In that fashion, we quickly switched their delicious fruit punch out for ours. I could almost hear the bubbling and popping of the cayenne peppers and the snap of chili seeds. Ha! What a lark!

But it really, truly looked like that - like our punch was poison. A cauldron of bubbling, boiled blood. Bloody pulp, drippy, sticky, so powerful and acidic that a bowl couldn’t contain it. Surely it would melt right through, yes I thought that on the way here.

After angling it perfectly, Mikey grabbed my shoulder and we both ran toward the back of the lobby to wait for our show to start.

I thought of something right then.

By chance we did get caught what would the consequences be? Surely I’d be grounded, I suppose I didn’t care about that, but for the first time, it occurred to me that maybe someone might actually get sick or really hurt from our drink.

Bubbling, snapping, toxic. I thought about his brother’s strange book.

Dammit, I thought about that Face again. My stomach churned as if I drank some of the spicy juice. I felt like saying something.

“Hey Mik-”

Then, and this time I am dead fucking serious.

Mikey stood frozen like a rod. Based on his face, I knew immediately what he was looking at. I saw this same look earlier.

This time there was no playing around. No jokes. No joshing.

In that very second when I looked, the music was killed. From across the dancefloor, and not four feet from where we just were crouched - Pudgy Tom turned and was staring directly at us, unmoving, unwavering…but with that damn Face spread across his head like a mask.

We weren’t looking at our classmate. No, that’s not Tom. It was the Face, identical to what I had been fearing all afternoon lurking from the deepest cavity of my brain. I tried so hard to forget it but I knew I couldn’t.

It looked like latex, as if his iconic, rosey-rounded cheeks and button nose were now contorted and pulled, and his skin was turned bleach white. The only distinguishing feature was his stubby size and his stupid striped shirt.

I noticed his head was cocked sideways and his eyes were gone, completely gone, nothing but those hollow holes.

The room was completely still like time froze.

Then I pissed my bedsheet.

Tom’s mouth slowly grew open, and it grew to an abnormal size. Inhuman. It was like we were looking into the eyes of the Devil himself.

What happened next I don’t want to put in words. All I could do was chew on my tongue. I couldn’t scream because my tongue was in the way.

I WANT TO RIP OUT MY FUCKING TONGUE. HELP ME GOD…HELP ME GOD…HELP ME GOD…

Then, everyone at the same time, all the partygoers, Ma, Pa, Ms. Malcolms, the DJ, and everyone around us simultaneously snapped their heads in our direction. I didn’t notice them do it, for I couldn’t take my eyes off Tom, but it was a quick ‘thwip, and you could hear it.

Every single parent had that cursed Face locked onto theirs, and all of them were looking at us.

It was the same throughout the whole crowd. Then, everyone snapped their heads ninety degrees and began opening their mouths. To suck out our souls? The yellow makeup and blue hair on Ma had completely vanished, and she was bald, and her face was masculine-looking. It didn’t matter if you had a mask or paint or a wig on already, the Face was plastered upon everyone

Mikey fell to his knees because the only ones who weren’t possessed were us kids. All of the trick-or-treaters in the room looked puzzled and confused, some crying, but most just wondering what the adults were doing. He was looking at his little sister.

It was every single adult and not a single child…

…except Tom.

“Mommy? Are you okay?” She trembled.

I could hear the other kids peeping and squeaking, begging to get attention from their possessed parents. The scuttling of little shoes and soft whimpering were the only sounds that could be heard.

Shutup kid! I wanna throw up!

Not one head, not even Ms. Malcolm’s had moved from their fixated gaze. I grabbed for Mikey but got nothing but the air, as he had now curled up into a ball on the floor.

Slowly, the thirty mouths grew, ripping apart the jaws of every adult. Their mouths curled backward like a mousetrap being primed.

How long since I blinked? I wanna blink so bad, please…GOD…GOD…

I blinked and then I died. No, I wish I died.

In my single blink, the demon that was Pudgy Tom teleported all the way across the room right in front of me.

I had an up-close look at a horror that I know I will take with me to my grave and I am only ten-fucking years old.

The Face was laughing at my demise. Silent, but laughing. It stretched its gaping mouth, and I could feel it through the sheet, like a cold locker closing in on me. I stared from my eye slits, into the depths and saw nothing. It inched closer. No blanket could save me now.

I couldn’t move. The Face’s mouth was wrapped around my head, ready to close for a bite.

NOTHING GOOD TO EAT IN THERE! HA HA HA!

Finally after what felt like a hundred years…

…BOOM!!!!…

Someone kicked the front door in.

“Get away from him idiot.” It was an unfamiliar and weasly-sounding voice.

The twisted Face that had ‘latched’ upon Tom didn’t move or react at all. My head was still in its mouth, a second from being chomped off. Suddenly, I felt something wet and I thought it was my blood.

The Face reeled back, curled up, and lost its laughing expression. Still, as silent as a mime, Pudgy Tom stumbled backward and violently began rotating his head around like he was having a seizure. Jolting its head side to side, snapping and cracking his neck so aggressively, like it was trying to shake off whatever coated him.

I put my tongue on the damp sheet and tasted my lips. Water.

“Bro?” Said a voice. It was Mikey from the floor. His clown makeup was all smeared and running from his tears.

My body finally moved. I looked to see who it was. It was the androgynous guy from the weird poster.

No, it was just Mikey’s older brother.

Mikey’s teenage brother, with his coke-bottle glasses, big ‘ol gauges in his ears, and his greasy black hair done up in a mess. He looked like someone from an MTV video. His braces pursed his cracked lips and he wiped a bead of sweat from his pimpled brow.

After intense shaking, Pudgy Tom collapsed to the floor and a billowed cloud arose from his face. At last, there it was. Thank God too. It was his, stupid, fat face.

“You guys are ‘tards.” Mikey’s brother sighed deeply. “You have no idea what you did.”

Neither of us made a sound. I peered to my left and saw that all the wide-mouthed adults who were once staring at me had shifted their heads in the direction of Mikey’s brother.

“Check out these sweet skills little boy,” he said to me, as if this was a moment to prove something of himself. This time I made sure not to blink and I’m glad I didn’t.

He ripped open his trenchcoat to reveal dozens of…candy bars. Almond Joys.

Like a rock-em sock em, he sprung into action, dancing around, dropping little fun-sized coconut candies into the mouths of the Faces. It was as easy as that. None tried resisting, and I believe it was because the Face that was possessing Pudgy Tom had already been exorcised. The ringleader.

In the process, Mikey’s brother guided the scared children to the back where we were standing.

Likely, the kids will probably, they’ll hopefully have no idea what happened; and probably, hopefully, they’ll forget and recall this memory as some kind of scary movie they saw during one forgetful Halloween.

…AFTER TWO FUN SIZED BAGS…

All the adults were lying on the floor, and some began waking up in a daze.

“Ok…who did it? Who spiked the…punch…bowl?” Said some neighbor

“Jesus…I thought we agreed to save this for the XMAS party! My kid’s here!” Said another.

Eventually, everyone got to their feet and reunited with their kids.

Pudgy Tom rolled over and stood up.

“Owie! My head!” Tom said as he touched his temple. Then he noticed us. “Woah cool costume Mike! Do you like mine?” Tom said and then realized that he was wearing his school clothes. “Oh…well I’m supposed to be a silly, little kitty cat.”

He looked at us; embarrassed, guilty, like he had snuck into the woods and taken a sip of something he shouldn’t have. Meow!

I didn’t bother checking on my folks, for once everyone was back on their feet and reunited with their kids, the general idea was that someone had dumped liquor in the punch bowl. It was a communal ‘blackout’ as my Ma calls it.

After departing Mikey, I walked outside the poolhouse and pulled the bedsheet off. Mikey’s brother was out there smoking something.

“Hey thanks for saving us,” I said. He was gazing at the full moon. “I’m sorry for going into your room.”

He sighed a weenie sigh. “Sure kid…always remember that dealing with dark magic is not for the peasants like you,” and then he took a deep pull of his ‘cig-ret. He was totally unbothered by the whole thing.

I had two other questions for him. “Why candy bars?” I asked.

“Coconut is gross, duh. They suck?” He replied.

Ok. Second question.

“Is that guy from your poster a boy or a girl?”

He took off his glasses and looked at me with mascara-shaded eyes.

“That ‘guy’ is Marilyn Manson, idiot. He is God.”