Title of Story: Alone
Rating: R
Pairing: Bella
Genre: Mystery/Suspense, Horror
Word Count: 4,843
Story Summary: Halloween is a time for tricks and treats, but what will Bella's night bring her? Tricks or treats?
Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
An eerie silence surrounds the neighborhood, the only sound being heard is the rustling of leaves as they roll down the concrete, like crumpled paper.
A combination of excitement and anticipation hangs thickly in the air; my heart beats a little faster and electricity rushes through my veins, giving me that extra umph I need to quickly lock my car and run inside with a huge grin on my face.
The metallic scraping and audible click of the deadbolt disengaging is almost thunderous and I wince against the noise, afraid to break the peaceful atmosphere but I don't need to worry about that. Soon, the children of the neighborhood will be abandoning their homes, their colorful bags ready for candy as they drag their exhausted parents from house to house. I'm honestly looking forward to it; the little ones, especially, always look adorable in their costumes.
Inside on the table where the mail and house keys are kept, a medium sized Jack-O-Lantern greets me with maniacal grin. I'm so glad Edward had time to carve it before he went into work, because I'm hopeless carving anything this good.
Taped to its face is a note with a badly drawn skeleton and ghost—something he did on purpose, just to make me smile.
I need to be put out. I've been bad. ;) ~E
I chuckle and shake my head, before lighting the candle and placing it on the porch.
I wish he could be here with me, but he's working at Alec's bar tonight and won't be home until after two in the morning. It's a bummer, considering some of our favorite horror movies are on, but working at the bar during the holidays does bring in quite a few tips.
The plus side, however, is that whenever he gets a break, he'll text me so at least I won't go the entire night without speaking with him.
Quickly, I head back toward our bedroom, finding the door shut. Normally, we leave the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom open for instances like this—when I'm home alone and being a coward because closed doors and being alone really freaks me out.
Inside, there's nothing missing, but I do see the closet door open and a few article of clothes scattered about. Knowing how Edward gets when he's lost in his work, he most likely lost track of time and rushed to get dressed. It's the only time he doesn't clean up after himself.
On the bed is a present—a stuffed black cat with huge glittery purple eyes. I had been eying it at the store, thinking it was the best and cutest thing I had ever seen. I wasn't even aware Edward had seen me holding it; I should know better by now, after nearly two years of dating, that he always sees more than I give him credit for.
Smiling softly, I hug the animal to my chest, placing it back down with care then putting the clothes back in the dresser.
Through the window, there's muffled laughter and squeals as the sun sinks lower into the charcoal grey sky, slowly immersing the world in darkness. From what I can hear, the festivities are about to begin; kids are already pleading for their parents to go trick-or-treating.
Grabbing my vampire costume from the closet, I change quickly and hurry back to the door, just in case kids have come up to score some treats early without their parents. It wouldn't surprise me, since it sounds like it'll be the end of the world if they can't go now.
Though, I think I was the same way when I was their age too. I need to talk to my dad … and apologize if I was this bad about trick-or-treating.
Through the peephole, I see a dark figure of someone to the left of the door. It's difficult to see them completely, but I just make out their back as they stand there. It's a little early to be out trick-or-treating, especially without a parent, but maybe the adults are out of sight.
Turning on the porchlight and grabbing the cauldron of candy—that has a small dent in it, no doubt thanks to my boyfriend—I open the door with a bright smile, but it quickly falls when the porch is empty.
Stepping outside, I peer over the porch and down the street, thinking I'll see someone running away. There's no one except for the few little kids hovering in their doorways, ready to go out and impatiently stomping their feet or gazing at the decorations draped up and down the block.
Shrugging it off and thinking the shadows might have been playing tricks on me, I turn to head back inside, rushing into the kitchen after taking note of the time. The horror movie marathon will start soon and I don't want miss any of it.
Underneath the bursting of popping kernels from the microwave, there's a sound of rhythmic scuffing from the outside kitchen wall. Lifting myself so I'm leaning on the sink, my feet dangling in the air, I press myself as close as I can to the window. There's nothing but bushes in my sight; it must be a bird coming home to settle in for the night.
When the microwave beeps, I pour the popcorn into a bowl and quickly gather my other essentials for my night. Once I have candy, finger sandwiches and a drink on the tray, I put it on the coffee table next to my cell phone, ready for a night horror movies.
Setting the mood, I turn on the orange and purple lights above the front door and turn on the flameless candles in the ceramic pumpkins in the kitchen and living room.
Like a little kid, I rub my hands together and grin excitedly, running around to the couch, sitting back with a contented sigh. Grabbing the popcorn and setting the warm bowl on my stomach, I find the channel hosting the marathon easily.
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rings followed by faint squeals and laughter.
My head drops forward, my chin touching my chest, but quickly rise and head to the door.
On my porch stands five young children, dressed as a skeleton, a princess, a video game character, a dinosaur and a pumpkin. They're all so cute with their chubby cheeks and pudgy hands, holding out their bags and pumpkin pails for treats.
My heart melts as they collectively shout "trick-or-treat," or at least they attempt to.
On the sidewalk, the parents stand together, smiling lovingly at their kids, chatting amongst themselves. One person, in particular, stands a few feet away from the rest, their hands stuffed on the pockets of their hooded sweatshirt as they stare at me.
It's strange how he's watching me, rocking back on his heels and his covered head tilted to the side. My hands shake lightly and I grip the cauldron tighter as it starts to slip from my sweaty palms.
Laughing lightly, I focus on the kids standing in front of me and remind myself there's nothing to be concerned about. He's watching me closely, yes, but it might be the first year he's taken his child out. It would make sense if he was watching closely, since sometimes you can't trust your own neighbors.
Holding the bowl out to them, I let them choose their own treats and I'm surprised they're all well behaved and only take two pieces each. Normally, kids grab a handful and run off, but this group picks out their favorites, shyly murmuring a "thank you" before running off to their parents and heading to the next house.
A few minutes after settling back down into the couch and the movie, I hear a sharp bang against the front window that overlooks the porch. My chest tightens as my body freezes and my head swivels toward the window.
Did someone throw something at my window? It better not be eggs, otherwise I'm gonna be really pissed.
Slowly and quietly, I walk toward the door and peer out the peephole. There's a group of kids running up the path, laughing as the wind howls, pushing against them. I take a deep breath, sighing a laugh.
It must have been the wind tossing a pinecone or acorn at the house.
I give them their treats and pause on my way to the couch, hearing a muted thud of a rhythmic tapping and a low murmur coming from one of the bedrooms.
What is that?
My mind racing into overdrive trying to figure out what could possibly be making that sound. I've never heard it before, so of course, I only come up with the worst possible scenario.
Is someone trying to break in? Did they knock something over in attempt to be quiet and sneak up on me?
Jeez, I'm paranoid. Just go back there and check!
On shaking legs, I snatch up my cell phone from the table and grab the baseball bat from underneath the couch. Tiptoeing down the hall, I first look into the master bedroom, seeing the blinds are undisturbed and everything is in order.
Across the hall is the multi-purpose guest room, the door slightly ajar.
Timidly, I push it open and step inside, my hand on the doorknob, ready to jerk it closed should I need to. Gazing from corner to corner, I look for anything out of the ordinary, but find nothing. Edward's computer and drawing board sits in the corner and my bookcases line the opposite wall, filled to the brim with books that are all untouched.
I gasp and jump back as something heavy hits the window, the sound loud in the silence of the room. Peering through the blinds, I see the branches from the tree swaying wildly in the wind. My heart lurches into my throat as I think I see a figure of a person darting behind the tree.
The wind gusts again and my locked muscles relax as I see Edward's demon prop blowing in the wind.
That must have been what I saw; I wish he had put it in the front yard instead of the back. Jeez. The only person it scares is me.
The sudden sharp chime of the doorbell has me shooting upward and laughing at the same time as I hear the chorus of children's voices excitedly squealing from the street.
"You're losing it," I mumble to myself.
Well, at least it's the right night for it.
After I hand out candy to three groups of children coming one right after the other, I sit back down on the couch and wait for the commercial to end so I can see how much of the movie I missed.
Thankfully, I only missed ten minutes of it and once more grab the bowl of popcorn, snatching the candy bowl as well. I proceed to stuff my face full of salty and sugary snacks before putting both bowls back on the table, feeling like I'm going to pop.
A knock on the door, short and abrupt, has me rising and frowning as I glance at the clock. Whoever was on the other side wasn't a child; it's either an annoyed adult or a teenager, though it's a bit early for them to be going out.
One thing I can say hasn't changed since I was a teenager going trick-or-treating is that they're polite enough to let the little ones get their candy first. I suppose it's an unspoken rule or something … either that or it's simply not cool to go out before dark.
Opening the door, I find no one on the porch though there are plenty of people walking around on the street, laughing and hollering with joy.
I guess I'm getting pranked. Wonderful.
Luckily, it doesn't take long for someone to come up.
"Your pumpedkin is not on," a little girl informs me, pointing a chubby hand toward the orange object in question. My heart melts at her teddy bear costume.
So cute!
"My momma says you hafta light it otherwise the boogeyman comes and gets you."
Her eyes widen theatrically, as if it's a real possibility. Behind her, her mother laughs, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment. "That's not what I said exactly, Janey. I said that's a legend, a story. Pumpkins ward away bad things."
I kneel down, putting on a show of being scared. "Well, legend or not, thank you for telling me. I wouldn't want that to happen and besides, someone very dear to me carved that. It would be a shame if people couldn't see it, huh?"
She nods solemnly. "Yeah, their feelings might get hurted."
"I better do that now."
She nods again and tugs on my dress as I stand. "Can I stay to see?"
"If it's all right with your mother, sure."
Her mother nods and as I turn to grab the lighter something from the side of the porch catches my eye. A dark mass of something is huddled near the railing, remaining perfectly still. My feet start for it, but I pause as I glance toward the expectant little girl patiently waiting on my porch.
Blindly reaching inside for the lighter, I quickly relight the candle, I stand back and watch the little girl's reaction, laughing when her nose scrunches up like she smells something foul.
"It's s'all right."
Laughing again, I wave goodbye and take measured, quiet steps toward the railing and peer over. There's nothing there, except for a half open bag of leaves. Sighing heavily, I close the door behind me, only to open it again once I hear a screech of fright, followed by hysterical chuckles.
"You have awesome decorations!" One of the boys in the group bellows excitedly, prompting the others to adamantly agree.
I have no idea what they're talking about. I have a few gel clings on the window, a black and orange ornamental wreath on the door and one of those "scary peeper" props hanging above the gel clings. It's nothing spectacular, not like the other yards.
They have life-like and life size animatronics, fog machines, mechanical jumping spiders—that have scared me more than once this month—and huge inflatables that reach the bottom of the trees.
I think next year Edward and I need to up our game.
Still, I thank them politely and wave goodbye, heading back inside. Thirty seconds after I've set the bowl of candy down and I'm halfway to the couch, another short and curt knock bangs from the door, followed by a loud laugh.
Once again I find no one on the porch.
Great. I'm getting pranked.
"If you want candy, this isn't the way to do it," I call out before heading back inside. If they want candy, I'm not going to give it to them until they do the "traditional" routine.
Back inside, I notice my cell phone, the blue light blinking in the top left. Eagerly seizing it from the table and opening messenger. I feel my lips curve into a huge smile when I see Edward's name on the screen.
Boo! ~E
Boo to you, too. How's your night going? ~B
Eh. It's pretty slow right now, but I have gotten quite a few tips. It must be my good looks. ;) ~E
I smirk and shake my head. Of course. He's the best looking bartender there, aside from his co-worker, Jasper, with his intense deep blue eyes. But then again, I can't give an impartial opinion; I've always thought Edward was the best looking guy I've ever seen.
However, I feel it's my duty as his girlfriend to bring him down a few notches.
You're no Adam Levine or Chris Pine, or that guy from the teen vampire movies, but you're okay. ~B
Ouch! You wound me, baby. ~E
You know I love you. Your pumpkin is a hit, by the way. Well, except for one little girl dressed as a teddy bear. ~B
Seven minutes pass before he replies and I have a feeling the rush is starting to pour in, meaning the texts will be fewer and far between until he gets off of work.
Bummer.
Oh, well, She gets a pass. Anything else exciting? ~E
Not much. I'm getting pranked, I think. Kids knocking and running away. All that wonderful stuff. ~B
Four minutes and a new movie beginning later, he replies.
Do you think it's your brother? ~E
I snort, thinking of James. Normally, I would undoubtedly believe it was him playing a joke on me since he lives for things like that, but not tonight. Tonight, I know, he's hosting a "Halloween Bash" in celebration of the holiday and the fact that he and his on-again, off-again girlfriend have gotten back together.
Knowing he'll be quite busy with both of those, I doubt he'll be leaving his house and I tell Edward this.
Okay, well, don't open the door without looking out of the peephole first, okay? Just to be safe. Gotta go. The party-goers are pouring in. Someone is dressed as a slutty pumpkin. How? Why? I can't even. Be safe. Love you. ~E
I'm not sure what he thinks will happen in Forks, but he's right, it's better to be safe than sorry.
Okay. Have a good night and I love you too! Oh, and thank you for the present! I love it ~B
I put my phone back on the table and watch the movie, listening for knocks or the doorbell while I snack a little more.
Plumping a pillow under my head, I lie back and quickly get absorbed in the movie until I hear a low gentle murmuring of muffled unintelligible words. I freeze, straining my ears to hear what is being said, but there's nothing except movie playing softly in front of me and children running around and screaming outside.
Walking around, I look and listen for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing seems to be disturbed. I continue searching, coming to a stop at the front door, going out to check the driveway for Edward's car.
I doubt he would come home unannounced, but I check anyway, finding only my car.
Back inside, I lock the door behind me and pause as a soft creak, from the opposite end of the small house has me turning toward the bedrooms on shaking legs. Grabbing the bat and entering the hall, gasping as I see the door to the multi-purpose room partially closed.
Swallowing thickly, I push the door open with the bat and rush inside this time, hoping my sudden entrance will startle whomever might be inside.
The room is exactly the same as it always is, the same as it was a little bit ago.
A burst of wind produces another creak, louder this time as the gust pushes against the house.
It's just the wind and this old house.
Peering out of the window, I gasp and jump back as someone's head darts up, their obscured by a plastic clown mask with yellow-ish looking teeth and cracked makeup.
Smacking my hand on the window, I raise the bat up and try to put on my best menacing glare.
"Hey! Get out of here or I'm calling the cops and I mean it!"
Muted childish laughter comes from them as they race away, zig-zagging around the yard before they crawl over the fence, out of sight.
Sinking to the floor, I take a few deep breaths trying to calm my churning stomach as my body trembles with the need to flee.
Oh, stop it! It was a rotten teenager. A child. You're in a locked house. You're just freaking yourself out.
Feeling foolish and silly, I hurriedly leave the room, making sure to leave the door open this time.
I must have pulled it closed slightly when I had gone to answer the door earlier and just didn't realize it.
What a fool I am.
Just to be safe, I call the non-emergency police line, telling them about what had just occurred.
"Did they run off or are they still there?" the person on the other line questions. Underneath their voice is a muddle of other voices and shuffling papers. From experience with my father's tales, I know Halloween is a pretty big night for pranks and gags and therefore, a multitude of calls.
"They ran off, right after I told them I'd call the cops."
"It was probably just some kids playing a joke. If anything else happens, don't hesitate to call back."
I figured that's all they would say, but at least I feel better knowing I did something.
Thanking them and hanging up, I stop at the door to deliver candy to some pre-teens before returning to the living room. My eyes are immediately drawn to the sliding patio doors, as a flash of lightning streaks across the sky.
Stepping onto the porch, I'm immediately hit by a cold burst of air and the sound of children laughing and screaming along with my neighbor's sound effect machine. The smell of rain hangs heavy in the air, a warning to everyone that a storm is on its way.
A shiver rattles through me so hard my teeth click together, and I head back inside, sighing in contentment from the warmth. Just as I lock the door behind me, the sky unleashes a heavy downpour. Fat drops of water sounding like coins being tossed onto metal as they hit the patio door and roof barely drown out the disappointed squeals of children.
Knowing there won't be any more trick-or-treaters tonight, I change into my comfortable cotton pajamas and snatch the shirt Edward had worn to bed last night. It still smells faintly of his body wash, cologne and scent that's pure him.
Stopping by the kitchen, I snag a beer from the fridge and turn off the front porch light on my way back to the living room. I collapse on the couch and drain half of my beer in five swallows, feeling the warmth and relaxation spread through me like a current.
The rest of my beer will be sipped slowly in between snacking on food; hopefully it'll be enough to keep me awake long enough to see Edward when he gets home. That's the only part I hate about his job when he's working night shifts; I'm usually asleep and dead to the world by the time he gets home and he's usually heavily asleep by the time I leave for work.
Luckily, he doesn't work those shifts too often.
Another flash of lightning illuminates the backyard and what looks to be a dark figure dart across the lawn. I head toward the glass door, checking the lock before turning the lights on, flooding the yard with light.
Much to my relief, nothing is outside, except for Edward's prop that has fallen off the tree. I debate about going out there to hang it back up, but decide against it.
I start to close the blinds, but decide to leave them open as the storm continues to rage on outside. The sharp pings and creaks of the house increase as the winds pick up, but I ignore it, focusing on the movie.
What else can I ask for on a Halloween night? Scary movies and a storm? It's the perfect combination.
Pulling the blanket tightly around my shoulders, I move from the back of the house, I settle in for the rest of the movie marathon, hoping I don't fall asleep. The heavy feeling in my eyes, however, doesn't bode well.
The night wears on, and in turn, lures me into a drowsy, sleepy state, thanks to the exhausting day. My eyes drift closed and it seems that within moments, I'm being jolted awake by a heavy bang.
Taking a few deep breaths, I blink blearily at the television, trying to banish the sleepy fog I'm encased in. A series of sharp taps reverberates in the quiet of the house and with an almost drunken clumsiness, I rise and start for the front door, mumbling my under my breath about how rude children can be when free candy is being given out.
I only get one foot away from the couch before I freeze as I realize two things.
One, it's too late for anyone to be trick-or-treating.
Two, the knock didn't come from the front door.
With a thick throat and heavy stomach, I turn toward the patio door no more than five feet from me and seize up.
On the porch is the orange flicker from pumpkin.
The pumpkin I had left on the front porch.
With shaking and weighty limbs, I sink down on the couch, reaching for my phone. I shove it underneath the pillow to hide the light of the screen as I bring up the dialer, my eyes darting between the phone and the patio doors.
I hope this is nothing and I'm over-reacting; after all, this could just be some kids playing a prank, but the thought is tossed out quickly as the dull shimmer of something long and silver appears.
A knife.
Gasping loudly, I slide to the floor, and scramble for the remote, encasing the room in darkness, which is a relief. Now, they can't see me; the bad thing about this, however, is that now, I can't see them either.
Throwing the blanket over my head and with shaking fingers, I dial the police, trying to control my breathing.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, hello. My name is Bella Swan and there's someone outside of my house with a knife."
There's a beat of silence and then the operator responds in a slightly tense voice. "What is your address?"
I rattle off the information, surprised any of it can be understood.
"Your address is 1421 Carpenter?"
"Yes," I whisper, scared of speaking any louder than that.
"The police are on their way," he tells me, the tension still there. "Are you in a secure location?"
"I-I think so. I'm in the living room, hiding on the floor."
"Okay. They're pulling onto your street now."
A nervous energy fills the house as a pounding shakes the front door. Jumping up, I race to answer it, finding a woman with her golden blonde hair tied in a tight bun on the back her head.
"Miss Swan? Bella Swan?"
Nodding at the woman in front of me, I step aside and clutch the door as she breezes inside, her weapon drawn. Outside, the narrow beam of a flashlight cascades wildly over the area. Seconds later, a burly man stands in front of me, nodding once as he heads inside.
The woman softly calls his name and he instructs me to stay where I am. I mumble an agreement, though I'm not sure I'd be able to move anyway.
A few minutes and a lot of murmuring later, they both come toward me.
"Everything is clear. Are you okay?" He questions, a look of concern on his face.
"Did you get them?" I blurt out.
The man, who introduces himself as Officer McCarty, smiles politely, exchanging a brief look with his partner, who introduces herself as Officer Hale. "Rosalie, why don't we all go sit down and talk?"
She nods and gently guides me to the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the small kitchen table. She pulls out the chair next to me while Officer McCarty stands in front of us.
"What happened tonight?"
"Um … well, nothing out of the ordinary at first. Trick-or-treaters. Someone pranking me by knocking on the door and running away. A kid was in my backyard; I called the non-emergency police number, but they said it was probably just a prank. I was watching movies and then I fell asleep. I saw my Jack-O-Lantern on my back porch; I … I left it on the front porch. They knocked on the p-patio door and then I saw a knife in someone's hand. That's when I called you." I take a breath and repeat my earlier question. "Did you catch them?"
"Unfortunately, no. They were gone by the time we got here."
A cold feeling washes over me, like I had been dunked in ice water, followed by an itchy feeling spreading throughout my body. Whoever was out there could come back and it was a feeling I didn't particularly like.
"We, um," he pauses, looking unsure but continues. "We also found evidence that they weren't outside," he says carefully, watching me closely.
His words confuse me. I had seen him outside, so how could that be possible?
Sensing my puzzlement, Officer Hale chimes in, her voice soft and comforting. "Upon searching the house we found puddles of water and muddy footprints."
I figure out what she's saying just before she finishes her statement, the scream bubbling up in my throat.
"The man you saw wasn't outside; he was behind you."