Trick Or Treat
Mick pushed the box of tissues across his desk. The woman sitting across from him yanked out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. Mick waited patiently.
"You have to keep it from happening again," she pleaded when she finally spoke, "you just have to!"
Mick folded his hands on top of the desk. "I'd be glad to help in any way I can," he said, "but I'll need to know what it is that I'm trying to prevent."
The woman sniffed, then pulled out a couple more tissues and blew her nose into them. She looked up at Mick with the eyes of a person who hasn't had a good night's sleep in a long, long time.
"My son Billy was a ghost for Halloween last year," she began. "I cut a couple of holes out of an old sheet for his eyes." The woman was trembling. "He had the most beautiful blue eyes." She sniffed, and grabbed another tissue. "He had a big pumpkin-shaped bucket to carry his candy in. He was only seven, but he didn't want me to go trick-or-treating with him. He said only babies have their parents go trick-or-treating with them."
Mick shifted in his chair. The pain the woman felt as she told her story was palpable.
"We made a deal," she continued. "I'd drive him around the neighborhood, and he could get out and go up to the houses all by himself, like a big boy." The woman smiled a sad smile, her eyes unfocused, remembering that night.
"Billy got lots of candy, and I had to scold him for trying to eat some before I looked it over. When it was time to head back home, he begged me to stop at one more house. 'Just one more, mommy!' he said. How could I refuse?"
The woman's eyes brimmed with tears, and she reached for another tissue.
"I pulled over and stopped in front of a house I had never noticed before," the woman said, wiping her eyes with the tissue. "Billy opened the door and jumped out onto the sidewalk."
The woman broke down, her back heaving as she sobbed. Mick stood up and walked around the desk, putting his arm around her shoulders.
"Take all the time you need," he said.
The women's head snapped up, and she stared at Mick with bulging eyes.
"There is no time!" she said. "Tonight's Halloween, and I know it's going to happen again!"
"Easy, easy," Mick said, trying to comfort the woman. "Nothing's going to happen again." He offered the woman the box of tissues. "Now why don't you finish telling me about Billy?"
The woman took a tissue and blew her nose. Mick pulled his chair around and sat next to her. After a moment she was able to continue.
"Billy stepped onto the sidewalk, and started up toward the house," she said. "Then all of a sudden Billy was gone. One second he was standing there, the next he was gone." The woman started crying again. Mick took her hand.
"He just disappeared?" Mick asked. "You didn't look away for a moment?"
The woman yanked her hand back and glared at Mick. "I never took my eyes off him! There was a kind of a blur, like something flying past us, then I heard Billy make a little 'ooof' sound, like he'd had the wind knocked out of him, and then he was gone, and his pumpkin candy bucket was rolling on the sidewalk, and there was candy everywhere, and…" The woman couldn't continue. She sobbed and leaned into Mick, who again put his arm around her shoulders. He rocked the woman, as she moaned her lost son's name over and over. Finally she regained her composure. Mick rolled his chair back to his side of the desk and sat down.
"I understand you brought me something of Billy's?"
"Yes," the woman answered. She handed Mick a plastic zipper bag. Inside was a blood-stained sheet. "The police found him the next morning in a dumpster a couple of blocks away." The woman slumped over, her face in her hands.
Mick opened the bag. The scent of blood was still very strong. It brought him a fleeting vision of what had happened that night. Billy's blue eyes, wide with terror as Mick saw him from the killer's perspective. Mick couldn't hear it, but he could make out one pleading word - "Mommy?" - as it was formed by the boy's tiny mouth. The sheet Billy had been wearing lay puddled around his feet. Then, seeing through Billy's eyes now, he saw a black figure hulking over him. There was a glint of white, and then a brief sting of pain in his throat, and then warmth as his blood poured out, and then darkness.
In addition to the child's blood, Mick could smell the murderer.
"And the police never caught your son's killer." It wasn't a question, really. Of course they hadn't. The murderer was a vampire.
"No", the woman said. "That's why I need you to make sure the killer doesn't take someone else's child."
"What makes you so sure the killer will strike again tonight?"
The woman thought for a moment before answering. "Call it a mother's intuition," she said.
Beth greeted Mick at the door when he came home. She immediately sensed something was wrong.
"Rough day at the office?" she asked, trying to smile as he brushed past her.
"You could say that," Mick mumbled in response. He went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a tall glass and filled it with blood from a decanter. He drained the glass in one long swallow. He walked into the living room and collapsed into his recliner.
"I've been hired to prevent a child predator who kidnapped and murdered a trick-or-treater last year from doing it again tonight," he told Beth.
Beth looked at her watch. "So you'll be leaving again soon." Their neighborhood's trick-or-treat hours started in twenty minutes.
"I'm sorry, Beth," Mick said. "I wanted to be with you tonight."
"I know you did," she said, putting her hand on Mick's shoulder, "but there'll be other Halloweens, right?"
Mick shook his head as he stood up. "I guess so," he said. "But this one is special."
He grabbed his coat and went to the door. Beth followed. She gave him a quick kiss as he stepped outside.
"You be careful," she told him.
"You too,"
"We will," Beth said, and closed the door.
The killer crouched in the shadows between two houses, watching the children walk by dressed in their colorful costumes. He licked his fangs, anticipating the way the blood would taste. There was nothing like the taste of a child's blood – fresh, pure and so very, very strong. He could go for weeks on the high he got from feeding on a child. And on top of the feeding, he got to enjoy the terrified way they always gazed up at him before he killed them. They almost always called for their mommies. Many cried, and that was even better. If they cried, he would lick the tears from their cheeks before going in for the kill. He shuddered at the thought of the taste of tears and blood intermingled. For now, the killer was content to wait in the shadows. But soon he would choose his victim and take the child someplace where he wouldn't be disturbed while he enjoyed himself. Soon.
Mick had the top down in his Mercedes as he slowly drove around the neighborhood. Everywhere he looked, happy children dressed up as monsters and cartoon characters ran up and down sidewalks, squealing and laughing, calling out "Trick-or-treat!" at doorsteps and peering inside paper bags, pillow cases and plastic jack-o-lanterns to take inventory of their candy. Mick chuckled as a boy dressed as a vampire ran by, baring his fangs and hissing. Mick concentrated, breathing in deeply through his nose, trying to pick up any sign of the real vampire he was on the look-out for tonight. Nothing. Chocolate bars, candy apples and popcorn balls, but no vampire. Mick sensed that he needed to park the car and continue on foot. He found a parking spot and pulled over. He put the top back up, locked the car and started down the sidewalk. Almost immediately he picked up the vampire's scent. The killer was nearby. Mick could tell which way the scent led, so he followed it, breaking into a jog.
The killer huddled in the shadows and watched as a woman and a little boy walked past. The boy was dressed as Spider-Man. The killer inhaled, taking in their scent. Usually it was the smell of the child that aroused him, but this time both the child and the woman shared an exquisite, mouth-watering aroma. Immediately he knew he had to have them both. As the woman and the boy walked down the sidewalk the killer crept out, staying in the shadows, and began to follow them.
As Mick jogged, he continued to test the air for the vampire's scent. He could tell he was getting closer, but not knowing whether he was catching up quick enough was driving him crazy. Mick began to run.
The killer's head was swimming in the scent of the boy and the woman. It was all he could do to keep from leaping at them now, but he knew he had to be patient. His patience would be rewarded. As the boy and the woman turned off the sidewalk toward the front porch of a home, the killer fell back into the darkness and waited.
As Mick's sense that he was close to the vampire intensified, the crowds on the sidewalk dissipated. He passed fewer and fewer kids trick-or-treating. The houses grew further and further apart. There were fewer streetlights to hold back the darkness. Mick ran now, hoping he wouldn't be too late.
The boy and the woman walked back to the sidewalk.
"That's all we have time for, sweetheart," the woman said. She pulled the Spider-Man mask off the boy's face and took his hand, leading him back the way they had come.
"Just one more house?" the boy pleaded.
The woman stopped and thought for a moment, looking down the sidewalk. The next house wasn't too far away. It was very dark in between the houses, but…
"All right," she sighed, "but this is the last one."
"Yay!" The boy jumped up and down and pulled the woman along by the hand. The killer followed, inching his way closer to the sidewalk.
The wind whipped Mick's hair back as he flew down the sidewalk. The smell of the vampire was very strong now, and there was another scent, too. Mick thought the new scent was familiar, but he didn't have time to think about it. He could see a woman and a child walking along the sidewalk in front of him. They were several houses away. Then Mick noticed another shape, dark and sinister, keeping pace with the woman and the child. Mick sprinted ahead.
The killer was just a few feet behind and to the right of the woman and the boy now. He watched as the woman dipped into the boy's trick-or-treat bag and pulled out a candy bar. He was close enough to be able to hear what they were saying.
"Hey!" the boy protested, reaching for the woman's hand.
"You don't like 'Almond Joy' candy bars, do you?" the woman asked.
"No," the boy answered. "I guess you can have it." They walked on, and the killer followed.
As Mick closed the distance between him and the vampire, his sense of something familiar grew stronger. The scent of the woman and the child was stronger now. He knew that scent. And he thought he recognized the silhouettes of the woman and child. When the woman turned to reach into the child's trick-or-treat bag, Mick saw her in profile. With dawning horror, he realized that the woman was Beth. The boy was their son, Ray. Mick tried to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, he ran faster.
The killer crept silently closer to the woman and the boy. They were in almost complete darkness now. The street light above them was out. The only light came from the small flashlight the boy carried. The house they were walking past was vacant. Its windows were boarded up, and the grass had grown tall. The killer decided the time had come. He could no longer control his craving for the child's blood. He leapt forward.
Mick reached the vampire just as he lunged toward Beth and Ray. Mick dove at the killer from an angle, arms outstretched, hitting the vampire in the chest and knocking him through a hedge and into the overgrown yard in front of the abandoned house. Mick and the vampire tumbled to a stop. Mick straddled the killer's chest. He reached for the scabbard attached to his belt and pulled out a long knife. Holding the vampire's hair with one hand, Mick brought the blade sweeping across the killer's neck, separating head from body. He got to his feet, wiping the blade on the tall grass and replacing it in the scabbard. He pushed back through the hedge.
For Beth and Ray, it all happened in the blink of an eye. They heard a rustling sound behind them, and a breeze ruffled their hair. The hedge they were walking next to seemed to shiver. By the time they turned around, Mick was standing there, brushing himself off. Ray's face lit up.
"Daddy!" he said. "When did you get here?"
"Just now, kiddo," Mick said. "You didn't think I was gonna miss my boy's first trick-or-treat, did you?" Ray rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Mick's legs in a tight hug. Beth looked questioningly at Mick, but Mick shook his head, indicating he'd explain everything to her later.
"Last house, right?" Mick asked, tousling Ray's hair.
"Right!" Ray answered, running ahead. Beth followed him. Mick noticed a drop of blood on the back of his hand. He licked it off, and then fell in behind them.