A short story for the week of Jun 14, 2025.
Genre: Fantasy with a bit of horror & romance.
Stella looked straight into BB’s eyes and said, “You realize you’re not getting into my pants tonight, right?”
Just tonight, or ever? I thought. Even though she wasn’t wearing pants, I just smiled and nodded. I have no intention of spoiling the mood. It might be our last Halloween together before graduation. The night was cool and young. There was still lots of potential.
Stella really outdid herself this year, dressed-up like Misa Anane from the Death Note manga series: golden hair in pigtails with red bands, hazel eyes, a cosplay black dress with black lace stockings and gloves, shiny knee-high black boots, and bright red lipstick. Being part Asian, she really did look like Misa Anane. It is both startling and pleasant to see. It’s nice we still do Halloween together. “Besties from day one,” she would say to me. It was true. I’ve known her since first grade.
I am dressed up in a full spandex bodysuit of anatomical muscles, no skin. My dad says I look like the skinless villain from Hellraiser II. I streamed the Clive Barker movie to get the cultural reference, and I admit my dad had a point. I thought the skinless suit would be a clever way to show off my body without showing skin, no pun intended. I also wear a dark cloak in case it got cold later tonight.
“Time to go?” I suggest. “Your brother and sister joining us this year?”
“No. It’s just us this year,” she said.
I shrug my shoulders in an “it is what it is,” kind of gesture. But I’m happy it was just us.
We start walking down the street, past her house and mine. We begin collecting candy at the Rusk residence. They always have large stash, but one had to get there early. Being a large religious family with eight kids, if you got there late it was slim pickings as their kids tended to eat what their parents didn’t give out.
“So, you know my dad’s a DJ for boomers, right?”
“Yeah, he plays at those important parties for politicos and CEOs.”
“Well, I’ve been listening to a lot of my dad’s eighties music lately. I know you like the music from the era, so tell me if you can recognize this tune,” she said with a smirk.
I did like music from that era. It was when synthesizer really took off, making rock more progressive and varied. Old bands like Rush, Styx, and ELO came to mind. There was no auto-tune back then either. It was less about showing tits and ass and more about having actual talent. As fellow band buddies, we respected that.
Stella grabs the hook of my arm in hers and we start skipping down the street. She sings, “All the old paintings on the tombs / They do the sand dance don’t you know? / If they move too quick (oh whey oh) / They’re falling down like a domino,” then she looks at me, eyebrow raised. “Who sang it?”
“That’s way too easy. Walk Like an Egyptian, by the Bangles,” I say.
We reach the Adkin’s residence. Their oldest kid, Harold answers the door. He’s wearing a leg cast. “What happened to you?” I ask.
“I wiped out on my dad’s dirt bike, got hurt, and now I’m grounded,” he whispers.
“Where did this happen?” Stella asks.
“In the open field behind my house.”
I know the area well. It is a marsh field about half a mile wide that separates our neighborhood from a new community of McMansions recently built. “Dang, that’s serious,” I reply. Harold’s dad was notoriously strict. We quickly say our thanks and move on, not wanting to get him in any more trouble with his dad.
“Let’s get back to the music,” I say. Hoping to switch to happier topic. I encourage her to sing more as we pass by other, mostly younger, kids dressed in full Halloween regalia.
“Okay… How about this song. It’s one of my favorites from that time,” she says. “Just a small-town girl / Livin’ in a lonely world / She took the midnight train going anywhere / Just a city boy / Born and raised in South Detroit / He took the midnight train going anywhere…“
“Hmm…” I feign difficulty, but I always liked the song’s piano intro, so I already know it. “Don’t Stop Believing, by Journey.”
“Yes! Good one. I’m happy we’re doing this tonight,” she says, smiling.
We collect more candy from Wally Greenhouse’s mom who answers the door. She was dressed up in a tight spandex skeleton outfit. Kind of hot if you like MILFs. I don’t, but hey, who am I to judge?
We collect from a couple dozen more homes before heading to the McMansions behind Harold’s house. The lunar eclipse in the night sky looks beautiful. I’m happy, but now I have to pee. So, I hold in the pee along with my inner joy that Stella’s happy being with me.
Arm in arm, we sing and laugh our way to the first McMansion. Maybe the wealthier neighborhood will have better candy. But something’s nagging at me. Unlike our neighborhood, I see no children here. I also feel like we’re being watched. And I still need to pee.
The first McMansion has a big scarecrow sitting in a chair, holding a pitchfork. An old lady dressed as a dark witch answers the door. “Trick or Treat!” we say with a bit of trepidation.
“Welcome,” she says and gives us several Toblerone chocolates. Nice! “We don’t get many kids around here. Do you want to come in for some apple cider,” she asks in a deep voice.
“Oh, no, but thank you,” Stella replies. We politely thank her and then leave that scene as quickly as possible.
The next house is even more strange. There’s an adult-sized vampire hanging from a tree in the front yard. Literally hanging, with a rope noose. Next to the front door is an adult-sized werewolf-like creature holding an old rifle. As we walk up to the house, I whisper, “Stella, I’m sorry, but I gotta pee.”
“Like, where are you going to do that?” she whispers.
“There are some bushes away from the front door, at the corner of the house. The windows there are dark. Just wait for me,” I whisper.
We get to the bushes. “Don’t peek. That’s not lady-like,” I gest.
“Pfff,” she laughs softly but she is polite and looks away while waiting for me to finish.
“Okay, I feel better. Let’s go.”
We walk back to the front door. I reach out to ring the doorbell when the werewolf jumps at us. “Pissing on my property! What the fuck!” it shouts, and then it points the old rifle at us.
We shriek in terror. Hand in hand, we run back toward the street, passing under their hanging vampire. It drops to the ground and begins to loosen the noose around its neck.
“Run Stella, run!” We hear a gunshot from behind us. I glance back and see the werewolf helping the vampire up from the ground. Then they start chasing us.
“Go through the marsh, ” Stella suggests. “It’s a short cut to our neighborhood.”
We change course and make way through the muck. It rained a lot the night before, so the ground was slick. There’s another round of gun fire, and now we hear howling. Howling! We run faster in the dim light of the blood moon.
Stella let’s go of my hand as she falls into the muck. “Shit, my boots!” she grunts.
I pick her up from the ground and we start running, but she falls again and yelps in agony. “Wait. My ankle. I think… it’s twisted.”
I pick her up and carry her piggy-back. I’m full of adrenaline so I hardly feel her weight. “Thanks,” Stella whispers.
Keeping my head down and trying to be both fast and quiet, which probably means I am neither, we eventually navigate to Harold’s backyard gate. Looking back toward the McMansions we didn’t see the werewolf or vampire, but we still hear faint howling. Howling! We quietly open the gate and sneak through Harold’s yard, heading back toward Stella’s house.
Stella then starts to softly sing for my ears only. “We’ve gotta hold on to what we’ve got / It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not / We’ve got each other and that’s a lot for love / We’ll give it a shot / Whoa, we’re half-way there / Whoa oh, livin’ on a prayer / Take my hand, we’ll make it, I swear / Whoa oh, livin’ on a prayer…“
That song was obvious to anyone who knew anything about eighties pop music. “Living on a Prayer, by Bon Jovi,” I said as we reached her house.
“Yep! Like, this was a horrible Halloween but I’m glad I was with you,” she says, and then kisses me. It was a muddy embrace, but I didn’t mind. While I didn’t get into her pants, I was in her heart, and that mattered much more.
The Neural Feed 