‘Bridgemoss Guardians’: A Short Story About the Childish Magic of Halloween


It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ll explain the absence at a later date, but for now — Halloween fun! I hope you’re all enjoying the Bite-Sized Halloween posts! This story was written for this week’s Reedsy contest (along with a few others, but we’ll get to those in due course) Spooky Season. This one’s for the prompt, “Start your story with two characters deciding to spend the night in a graveyard,” and it’s called Bridgemoss Guardians.

You can read it here on WordPress, or over on my Reedsy profile!

‘Visit’: A story in 99 words

Gusts of wind moaned through the skeletal trees, scattering the burnt-orange leaves across the graves.

“That time of year again, Frank?”

“Yep.”

“Same as last year?”

“Same as every year, Harry.”

“Hmm.”

The wind wailed between the headstones, shrieking like a ghoul.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well… maybe they forgot?”

“Twenty-seven years in a row?”

“I—well, maybe not…”

“Yeah, maybe not.”

The gale was picking up speed now. The town’s citizens would be battening down the hatches.

Frank was changing, too. Becoming. Tattered skin and rotten flesh were stitching themselves together again.

“This year,” he said, “they’ll remember.”

 

night dark halloween horror
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

 

Written in response to CarrotRanch’s September 26, 2019, prompt: unremembered.