The pumpkin hit the case behind The Collector. THUD! THUD! THUD! The rows of shelves began falling like dominos, glass orbs shattering as they hit the floor, freeing the trapped beings.

A tornado of souls began whirling about the witchdoctor. His scream sliced through Charlie’s ears. “Help. Me,” grimaced The Collector, reaching for Charlie. The boy dodged past the witchdoctor, running for the staircase.

He leapt up the stairs, hearing the man’s death throes.

BONG! A clock was chiming. BONG!

What time is it? he thought, as he frantically ran up the steps, two at a time.

Too late.

This is part twenty-one of a larger story for Halloween. All sections are in the form of a 99-word story. Check back tomorrow for part twenty-two!

Previous parts: #1 | #2 | #3 | #4 | #5 | #6 | #7 | #8 | #9 | #10 | #11 | #12 | #13 | #14 | #15 | #16 | #17 | #18 | #19 | #20