The staircase opened out into in a library. The shelves held no books. The endless rows of glass orbs were full of things crying for help.
On the far side was The Red Door. Charlie could feel the heat. Could smell the sulphur.
The boy spun around, heart in his throat.
“Do you like my collection,” said The Collector, gesturing at the overflowing shelves, “of souls?” He grinned madly.
“Please, just leave me alone!”
“Now, now. Why be alone, when you can join them?”
“Never!” screamed the child as he threw the jack-o’-lantern at the witchdoctor.
This is part twenty of a larger story for Halloween. All sections are in the form of a 99-word story. Check back tomorrow for part twenty-one!