This is a special Halloween blog post! A very good friend of mine who happens to be an extremely talented writer has teamed up with me to put an eerie voice to the equally spooky cake I've conjured into existence...
Hallowee’en
by Adam McOmber
by Adam McOmber
It gets dark early these days. The sky turns the color of a bruise and, soon
enough, the whole world fades to black.
We know we should get inside where it’s safe and warm. Sit in the lamplight and read a book. We should be cozied under a blanket and listen
to the wind as it hammers against our windowpanes.
But this is October. Halloween weather and Halloween feelings. And in these late days, we’ve grown to appreciate the dark, haven’t we? We can feel it there inside of us. Feel the crackle of autumn leaves in our chest. The odd flicker of a jack-o-lantern’s candle.
We like the way the hair on the back of our neck stands up when we see a fat spider hanging in a web. We appreciate our hearts beating a little faster when we walk down an empty street and hear something scuttling in the bushes. It’s a reminder of the season. A reminder that the green of summer is fading all around us—and there’s a certain pleasure in watching that life pass. The end of the green is what reveals the dark, after all.
And in the dark, there’s a whole world of imagination. Watch it play like a film on the white screen inside our mind. A projector bulb flickers to life and then suddenly a black and white horror movie appears. The dead are rising. The monsters are coming out. We watch the mummy drag itself from a jeweled sarcophagus. Its face is all bandaged, and its flesh looks like desert sand. We watch zombies rot and stumble through a graveyard. And there too, in the eldritch vapors, is Victor Frankenstein’s monster, perpetually questioning his own humanity.
And behind him, a common man who’s growing tufts of animal hair from his face. Yellow eyed, long fanged wolf wearing shredded clothes, prowling the shadows. They’re like old friends now, aren’t they? And we walk with our monsters in the dark. We forget our lives and our responsibilities for a while. We feel the strange old desires well up in us. We too are creatures from long ago. And we spread fear through our little town. We realize that tomorrow the sun will rise, sweeping all of this away. But for now we have the dark. And we love it, don’t we? We love it just as it is.
But this is October. Halloween weather and Halloween feelings. And in these late days, we’ve grown to appreciate the dark, haven’t we? We can feel it there inside of us. Feel the crackle of autumn leaves in our chest. The odd flicker of a jack-o-lantern’s candle.
We like the way the hair on the back of our neck stands up when we see a fat spider hanging in a web. We appreciate our hearts beating a little faster when we walk down an empty street and hear something scuttling in the bushes. It’s a reminder of the season. A reminder that the green of summer is fading all around us—and there’s a certain pleasure in watching that life pass. The end of the green is what reveals the dark, after all.
And in the dark, there’s a whole world of imagination. Watch it play like a film on the white screen inside our mind. A projector bulb flickers to life and then suddenly a black and white horror movie appears. The dead are rising. The monsters are coming out. We watch the mummy drag itself from a jeweled sarcophagus. Its face is all bandaged, and its flesh looks like desert sand. We watch zombies rot and stumble through a graveyard. And there too, in the eldritch vapors, is Victor Frankenstein’s monster, perpetually questioning his own humanity.
And behind him, a common man who’s growing tufts of animal hair from his face. Yellow eyed, long fanged wolf wearing shredded clothes, prowling the shadows. They’re like old friends now, aren’t they? And we walk with our monsters in the dark. We forget our lives and our responsibilities for a while. We feel the strange old desires well up in us. We too are creatures from long ago. And we spread fear through our little town. We realize that tomorrow the sun will rise, sweeping all of this away. But for now we have the dark. And we love it, don’t we? We love it just as it is.