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Halloween Haunts: Halloween Memories by K.R. Morrison

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I’ve just come in from pulling the cornstalks and hanging them to dry. And next week, the high school will have its annual Homecoming Parade down our street.

What, you ask, does this have to do with Halloween?

These two activities signal, to me, the end of summer and the start of autumn. And they are the two branches of my mindset for this time of year.

I have a friend who is a Halloween nut. A couple of years ago, I told him I had cornstalks for the taking, and ever since then, it’s been a tradition for him to come and haul them away. He and his family celebrate the turn of the season very deeply, because they are in tune with Nature, growing and preserving most of the food they eat. Certainly, they love the trick-or-treat thing, but the decorations don’t go away after one night. They surround the house with pumpkins; most of them go up on the roof so people don’t smash them in the street. Then there are the cornstalks that mark the way to their front door. These decorations stay to celebrate the time of harvest and the gateway to this part of the world’s falling asleep for the winter.

I’m at a transitional point in my life, where the excitement of the one-night trick-or-treat thing just isn’t that important to me. I was full into it when the kids were younger, but now they’re grown and gone. I don’t mind sitting out on the front porch and doling out candy, but my heart’s just not in it anymore.

Oh, but it was fun for a long time, and I really enjoyed it. I had lots of fun putting up the decorations and seeing my neighbors’ yards and porches sprouting bats and pumpkins and the like. The “Night Of” always found me outside the front door, maybe three or feet away from it, and in plain sight. It was a kick to see how many kids would walk up to the porch, stare at me with the bowl of candy sitting right there, and still ring the doorbell. It made me think of those chickens in the lab cages who would peck at a button to get rewarded with feed.

Guys? The candy’s over here…

And believe me, we get a ton of kids parading through here on Halloween. Since we live a block from the edge of town, with farmland beyond, we get all the kids from the surrounding countryside parading up and down the streets along with the neighborhood ghoulies. Everyone from little babies in strollers to kids who probably should have been home doing their Calculus homework come up, and before I know it, 500 (yes, you read that right) pieces of candy are gone. This only takes a couple of hours, and then I have to rush inside and turn off the porch light. Even then, the little darlings still ring the doorbell.

This is a far cry from Halloween trick-or-treaters at the house where I grew up. Living on a road with a high amount of vehicle traffic, we just didn’t get any kids coming to our door. All of the action was on the street behind us—and that’s where we would spend our time on October 31st. Every year, my sister—and later, my brother, when he was old enough—would run through the neighborhood beyond our busy thoroughfare, ringing doorbells to beat the band. Every year was a good haul, and we kept up our Halloween appearance at the neighbors’ doors well into our teens.

Once we hauled our goods home, we would start in on the inevitable. Dump, Sort, and Devour. And in the case of my sister and me, we would always fight over who had the best or the biggest cache. Then there was the trading and the shooing away of parents who wanted “just one small thing”.

Anything chocolate was sacrosanct—no one got that away from me, under pain of death. My next favorite was those straws that had the flavored sugar in them. From there, it was SweeTarts, the one candy that symbolized Halloween for me. Chocolate I could get any time, but SweeTarts seemed to only show up at Halloween. That was a special thing.

Gum and hard candies were “special gifts” to my parents—yuck…Take ‘em away, have fun Mom.

Yep, got the payback. My kids did the same to me.

Nowadays, I’d rather just sit back and watch the kids from the warmth of the inside of my house. My husband still wants to do the candy thing, so I still buy the gonzo bags at Costco, and they are gone in a blink. Faster, if I let Hubby have any.

That Homecoming Parade I mentioned is more significant to me—it symbolizes the beginning of the Great Holiday Rush, with Halloween being the first one. I’ll always love the idea of Halloween, but it’s becoming more of a page within the season rather than a book in and of itself.

My friend will come for the cornstalks next week, and we will start a new chapter in the Book of Autumn—we will toast the season with some of his home-brewed beer. We will talk into the night about our gardens, our accomplishments, the harvests, and what we have done with our bounty. Then we will say goodnight and head home to sleep, joining with Nature, at least for a short time, in the nap that it will continue until it is awakened by Spring.

Morrison_cvrK.R. MORRISON has lived in the Pacific Northwest for over 20 years. She moved there from California, after the Loma Prieta earthquake caused her to rethink her stance on “never moving again”.  At her first sight of Oregon, she never looked back.

She wrote her first book, Be Not Afraid, after a nightmare she experienced would not leave her mind, even when awake.  Before this book, she had not written much of anything, outside of the annual Christmas letter.

She has also co-authored a book entitled Purify My Heart with Ruthie Madison, and is an editor for her publishing house, Linkville Press.  Epitome Press also uses her editing services, along with individual clients. Book reviewing and blogging take up a lot of her time as well.

When not writing or working, she quilts or works in the garden.

She lives with her husband of over 27 years and a monster-sized cat, and is occasionally visited by her kids.

Author page: https://www.facebook.com/k.r.morrison.author

Author blog: http://krmorrison325.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KRMorrison2

Book series page: https://www.facebook.com/PridesDownfall

Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T4R25JI1hJg

Audiobook: http://www.audible.com/pd/Sci-Fi-Fantasy/Be-Not-Afraid-Audiobook/B00LU1R43E/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srImg?qid=1406592087&sr=1-1

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/113801306910387026077/posts

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Be-Not-Afraid-K-Morrison/dp/1499631545/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1401578397&sr=1-1&keywords=be+not+afraid+morrison

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/440066

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/be-not-afraid-k-r-morrison/1100084495?ean=9781499631548

 Read an excerpt from Be Not Afraid by K.R. Morrison.

CHAPTER 10

Lydia spun around, still on her knees. Vlad was halfway up the aisle of the church, slowly and deliberately making his way to where she was.

She scrambled up and ran towards the altar, diving under it as Vlad got to the bottom of the steps leading up to where she cowered. But he did not venture any further; instead he paced back and forth in front of them, staring at Lydia as if she was an animal in a cage.  Finally, he spoke.

“I can understand how you would be able to get out of my house, had you been in any shape to move. I did leave the door open.  But how did you get the strength—and how did you get here?”

Lydia kept silent, not knowing if he could still read her mind. Somehow, she felt that he should not know about the beings–who she now knew were angels–that had transported her here (wherever “here” was),  and that they were even now hovering above them.

He glanced toward the floor in front of the tabernacle.

“And you brought the child as well.” Then he glared back at Lydia.  “Did you really think that hiding in a church would do you any good?  I tell you, your pathetic devotion to this—whatever it is—is useless.”

It was apparent to Lydia that Vlad could come no further than where he was in front of the altar. She was protected in this area.  It was sacred ground, and the demons that had such free rein over the earth still could not approach it.  God was worshipped here, and the Body and Blood of Jesus was miraculously present on this very altar at every Mass.  No wonder Vlad could not come up and take hold of her!

Empowered by this realization, Lydia came out and stood up in front of the altar. She looked him in the eye.  And she felt—nothing.  No weakness, no loss of consciousness, no being drawn into his thrall.  He no longer had control over her!

Vlad, in turn, noticed that Lydia’s skin was as smooth and clear as on the first day he saw her. Being who he was, there was no room in his mind for the idea of divine intervention as the reason for this miracle.  He believed himself to be more powerful than any other force in the universe, or beyond.  Such are the allures and lies of the ways of evil.

Instead, he said, “Well, you do heal quickly. Good.  You were running out of fresh areas for me to feed on.

“Now—I thirst. Come down from there.”

He smirked as an idea came to him. “Actually, this is an ideal place to get, shall we say, reacquainted.  At the feet of your plaster Savior!”

Lydia stood her ground.

“No,” she said firmly. “Not anymore.  In God alone is my strength, and in my weakness, God has made me strong.  You have no more power over me.”

Vlad howled, beside himself with rage. He leapt up onto the first step, only to fall back, hissing, his fangs bared.

Lydia watched as he paced again. Suddenly he stopped, and an evil smile came to his lips.  He turned back to Lydia, and, pointing toward the side door, said, “You leave me no choice.  I am hungry, and do not wish to go any longer without feeding.”

Lydia looked towards the door, which seemed to open on its own.

She gasped as the priest walked in!

He made his way slowly towards Vlad, his face expressionless.

“Father! No!” Lydia screamed.  But he didn’t seem to hear her.  He merely continued walking toward the vampire.

She watched helplessly, shaking in fear for the poor man.

“Father! Don’t look at him!  Look away, close your eyes, anything!  You’re in danger!  Don’t you see?”

But he just kept his slow, steady pace forward.

Lydia acted at the same time as the orbs of light. They dove down as she sprinted out of the altar area and shoved the priest out of the way of Vlad’s hungry grasp.  He landed on the floor, blinking, surprised and confused as to where he was.  The orbs circled him like watchdogs guarding their Master’s treasure.

Lydia glared at Vlad.

“He is not yours either!” she hissed at him. “Leave this place!”

Vlad pushed her, and she landed hard on the stone floor. He tried to leap on the priest, who, horrified at what had almost happened to him, was attempting to get as far away as he could.  The lights stayed right with the cleric, one on either side, although he did not realize it.

Lydia got up and ran at Vlad, pulling on his arm in a vain attempt to stop him. However, she no longer had the demonic strength she had had when the curse was on her.

“Leave him alone!” she screamed.

Vlad turned quickly and got her shoulders in a vise-like grip. He snarled into her face.

“I will not leave until my hunger is satisfied!!”

Lydia, who had been fighting his hold on her, suddenly went limp. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, stared at Vlad for a moment, then quietly said, “Then take me.  Don’t destroy this man’s life.”

Vlad was surprised for a moment, then he started chuckling deep in his throat.

“Am I to understand that you would give yourself to me, just to keep this man safe? Do you honestly believe that your ‘sacrifice’ would keep him alive?  After all I’ve done, do you really think I would keep any sort of bargain?  You should know by now that the only promises I keep are the ones I make to myself!

“What would keep me from tearing out your throat—again, I might add—and then doing away with him?”

Lydia sighed and nodded.

“Yes, I realize all of this. But what choice do I have?”  Her eyes shone with a new resolve.  “But if I didn’t at least try to help him, to protect him, I’d be as damned as you.”

Vlad shook his head. “Poor misguided Lydia.  You have no idea what you can be at my side.”

“I do know what I cannot be, and that is—saved! To feel the warmth and love of Jesus Christ as I walk with Him in eternity.  That is worth dying for a thousand people and more!”

Sirens could be heard in the distance. As they got nearer, Lydia knew in her heart that the approaching emergency and police units were on their way to this place; she could see the priest moving towards the back of the church to intercept them.

Vlad knew as well. He turned his head to listen.

Then he turned back to Lydia, in a full rage.

“Fool!” he sneered. “Many lives will be lost tonight!  And it will be your fault!”  He stared coolly down into Lydia’s eyes, whose gaze met his without fear.

He whispered as he pulled her closer, “Yours will be first. And I will make sure you stay dead this time!”

Lydia turned her head, exposing her throat to him, and said, “You might be able to kill this body, but my soul lives forever!”

Enraged, Vlad bared his fangs and struck her as hard as he could, puncturing skin and sinew, rending her flesh and tearing a great hole in her throat. Once again, he drained her of every drop of blood.

Then he dropped her, feeling only vaguely sorry that he would not taste her blood again. Still, there was another option waiting innocently for him…

 

The police entered first through the back doors of the church, the EMTs waiting outside until needed. What their eyes beheld made even the most seasoned veteran shrink back in fear.

There, up at the front of the church, at the very front of the altar, two figures were locked in an embrace of death. Then, one of them slumped to the ground in a heap, while the other turned and faced the officers at the door.

What they saw terrified them beyond anything they had ever witnessed before. Some were so frightened that they ran back outside, but a few of them stayed, guns pointed, arms quaking, too shocked and stunned to move.

The ghastly figure started toward them, covered in his victim’s blood. His sharp fangs gleamed red as he hissed.  Spitting out the shred of flesh he still had had in his mouth, he showed his teeth in an open-mouthed grimace, bore down on the trembling police officers—

–and disappeared!

The officers blinked and looked at each other. Had they imagined all of this?

But, no! The woman slumped in front of the altar was still there.  They moved cautiously up the aisle to have a closer look.

She had to be dead—there wasn’t enough left of her throat to be able to breathe.

The officers were about to call in the EMTs when, incredibly, they saw her move!

Incredulous, they saw the mutilated victim stretch herself prone on the floor, and reach both arms toward the tabernacle. They could see a puddle of blood under her head.  She again lay still, and those present were sure that she was beyond help.

Two orbs of light caught their attention; they swirled seemingly randomly, then touched down on either side of the altar. The lights shimmered and stretched, forming themselves into humanlike figures.  The police officers fell onto their knees, dumbfounded at the sight.

The two glowing shapes suddenly went down on their own knees as well, facing the tabernacle.

New light filled the room, blazingly bright, scattering and obliterating all shadows in the church. The officers, now joined by the EMTS and the priest, who had all walked, amazed, up to the front of the church, could only kneel and look on in wonder.

The beings of light fell to their faces as a third Figure took shape before the altar. It was a Man, but none such as the group had ever seen before.  He gazed on them all with love, but also with a power and authority that exceeded time and eternity.

He was Eternal.

He was Jesus.

This knowledge was overwhelming—the mortals present knew Who this was in their hearts and minds without a doubt. Whey this was happening, they did not know.  They just knew it for what it was—a miracle.

They watched as He bent down and took the woman up in His arms. He kissed her forehead, and she stirred.

Lydia heard voices. She felt warmth, and peace, and absolute relief that her trial was over.  She was happy and content to just float with her eyes closed forever…

Then—

–it all crashed around her as she became conscious in her body once again. The pain from her ravaged throat was excruciating, and she worked her mouth, trying to scream.  But since she had no way of using her throat, there was only silence as she writhed.

Hands. Gentle hands, lifting her.  A Voice, calling her name.

It was understandable, considering the torments she had gone through, that Lydia’s first instinct was to fight the embrace she felt herself in. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look, and twisted, trying to break away.  No more lies!  No more deceptions!!

She suddenly stopped.

The Voice! That Voice again!  Calm, beckoning, pleading with her.

“Lydia! Quiet, please, quiet.  You are safe.  I am here.”

It was not coming from within her! Incredibly, she seemed to be hearing it from outside her spirit!  Were her ears deceiving her?

Lydia felt that sweet rush of peace within her soul again. Still, she was confused and afraid.  Did she dare trust?  The soaring hope, always followed by despair, fear, and horror as she found herself back under Vlad’s power.

Through the red, searing pain, she felt she just could not bear any more, and she prayed for death.

“Lydia. I am Life.”

At these words, she opened her eyes, and found herself looking into the Face she had longed to see for as long as she could remember.

It was a Face that had seen all of eternity, all of mankind’s rises and falls, had been one of His own people for a time.

She could only stare in wonder, only vaguely aware that she was alive and yet unable to breathe. Her heart, freshly beating with the new life with which He had infused it, was throbbing so wildly and ecstatically with love that she thought it would burst.

He smiled gently at her, and as she gazed back into His eyes, she could see the majesty and power that belonged only to her Lord and Savior.

And a new happiness welled up in her as she realized—He had come for her!

Lydia felt a gentle, caressing hand on her torn throat, and the horrible pain was instantly gone. She wanted to laugh, to sing, to shout His praises.  But she merely put her arms around His neck, like a child safe in its parent’s embrace.  He silently held her close, His head against hers.

Unaccountably, this loving gesture caused her to start crying. She thought of all she had done, and hadn’t done, in her life, and her relationships with the people who had come in and out of the scope of her existence.

Was this her personal judgment day? She was still not really aware of where she was.  She had the horrible notion that she was about to lose Him due to the deeds of her lifetime that she was ashamed of, and her sobs grew harder.  They came to a keening crescendo as she thought of what had happened ever since she had met Vlad.

“Oh, my Lord! I’m such a wretch!  Less than nothing!  I’ve been weak!  I’m a loss!  That poor baby!”

He caressed her, rocking her back and forth as they stood at the altar. Then He gently pushed her back so that she had a clear look into His eyes.

“It is forgiven, Lydia. Do you not trust My words?  My priest, my son, has given you absolution in My Name.  Believe in that, and forgive yourself on the strength of My having forgiven you.  If you do not forgive yourself, you will never fully heal.”

“But…but…the little boy…”

“He is safe, where no evil can ever touch his soul. You made that possible by baptizing him.  If nothing else has saved you, your actions and obedience to My command, even at the risk of the loss of your mortal life, has done so.”

Then He pulled her back into His embrace, and she stayed there, hoping to never part from it.

“Lord,” she whispered, “let me go home with You. Please!  It’s all I’ve ever wanted since I chose You above anything this life has to offer.”

She could feel Him smile, and He held her closer for a moment. He kissed the top of her head, and she felt as if she was going to melt with love.  She could hear him whisper, “Yes, and I have not forgotten that.  I never will.  It is what has drawn Me to you.  It is why I have a mission for you to fulfill as My chosen messenger.”

It became clear to Lydia that her existence on earth would continue, and it was almost too much for her to bear. She started crying again, clinging to Him.

“Lord, don’t leave me! I can’t possibly exist without you!”

He put His hands on her shoulders and once again looked at her with all the beauty and goodness and peace of eternity.

“My daughter, you never have. Your life has always belonged to Me.”

He let go of her shoulders and took her hands in His. She watched, incredulous and scarcely breathing, as He kissed both of her wrists, then her forehead.

“I have sealed you against the trials to come. Don’t be afraid—trust in Me.”

Giving her one last embrace, He looked towards the people before Him.

“My son, Father Samuel!” he called.

The priest came forward from the group. He could barely speak, so stunned was he at what had occurred.

“Y-yes, Lord?”

Jesus looked at Lydia, then back at Fr. Samuel.

“Take her to your house and give her something to eat. Then find her husband.  He has been searching in desperation, and he will be overjoyed to have his wife back.”

Then He held up His hands, and light shot from the nail scars on His wrists. It fell on all those assembled, and all felt the blessing of the Eternal One of God.

The light dimmed as He disappeared, escorted by His angels. At the same time, the sun came over the distant mountains, bathing them with the rosy hue of a new day.

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