A Foggy Hallows Eve

They walk among us every day not knowing their past or future. Vicky sat alone in the pub waiting for the Halloween party to start. The publican dimmed the lights before lighting the candles in the carved pumpkins running along the bar. A large ornately carved lantern lit up with glowing evil eyes and sharp teeth carved in its flesh, “Wow, that one is scary.” Vicky said taking a mouthful of her beer.

“Halloween.” An old lady dressed in rags bent over the bar suddenly looked up and madly shoved her purse into her jacket, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

She is too old to be out socialising. Was she with the first colonists who built this town? “What do you mean?” Vicky asked.

“Tonight is the blue moon.” Her hoarse voice drew out the word moon to make it sound scary.

Am I meant to be scared by this mumbo jumbo? “So?”

“The second full moon of October on the eve of Halloween,” the woman looked back like her words meant something. Not getting a reply she shook her head, “The night the Moonwalkers come down from the mountain. It happens every thirteen years.”

“Moonwalkers,” Vicky burst out laughing. She has had too many glasses of Gin and Tonic. 

“You’re new to town aren’t you,” the publican asked.

“I have lived here for five years and never heard of this rubbish.”

The old woman’s wrinkled brow dropped over her eye line, “You will be sorry tonight.”

“Are the Moonwalkers going to get me,” Vicky scoffed taking another mouthful of beer. I have a higher chance of being mugged by some weirdo out trick or treating. Where do people come up with this stuff?

“The blue moon rises in an hour,” the old woman’s voice echoed around the pub from the doorway. The sound of multiple wood chairs dragging over the floorboards filled the air. Vicky glanced over her shoulder to see the patrons heading for the door. The bartender started looking nervous as he flicked the light switch, “We are closing up, you will have to leave.”

“It’s only six o’clock. Where’s the partying for the holiday?” Vicky asked.

“Not tonight.”

She rose from the bar and headed for the door, “You are all crazy.”

The shadows slowly crept in as the sun sunk behind the hills. Vicky casually strolled along the street towards her home. Her attention was drawn to a bloke lighting a pile of wood in a steel drum on the footpath. “What are you doing?”

“Lighting the fires, so we can see them when they come.”

More crazy people. She glanced back and kept walking. Darkness fell across the town.  The moon hadn’t started to rise when the bright stars sparkled in the cloudless sky overhead. A few street lights gave a faint glow over the footpath as she wandered alone. Vicky paused moments later when fires started popping up along the street like some wartime signal fire. Each fire punched through the darkness, its warm glow reflecting off the white timber board homes nearby. Geez, the whole town is in on it.  

***

Vicky reclined back on her veranda, sipping her cup of tea. Beside her was a bowl of treats for anyone not spooked by the Moonwalker drama. The streets were aglow as more fires were lit. The last time I saw something like this was when the wildfires approached the town. Where’s the fire brigade?

Some houses didn’t have fires but they were in darkness so they may have been vacant. Come to think of it, a lot of people travelled away for the holiday this year. 

The rising blue moon reflected off the mist growing on the mountain summit. Mount Epiales, the largest peak in the mountain range was always covered in snow. No one ever travels up there these days, a few mountaineers tried over a century ago but they never returned. A travelling Greek explorer named it Epiales after the Spirit of Nightmares. I think the locals have grown on these early superstitions to create this crazy idea they have today. They are scarring themselves to death.

Vicky reached for one of the candies in the bowl. The fire smoke lingered in the still night air. As the moon rose in the sky, the mountain mist swirled and rolled down its slopes. Are there any trick-or-treaters out tonight? Vicky got up and wandered out to the footpath. The rows of fires showed no one on the street not even the odd roaming dog. The house lights were off and the town was silent. As she stood there staring back at a corridor of fire, the mountain mist appeared at the end of the street. The golden glow of the flames reflected off the swirling mass as it drifted towards her. 

Her heart started to race. Don’t get drawn into these ghost stories. It’s not the first time we have had mist in this town. The street lights flickered and died one by one as the mist steadily progressed along the road. What is going on here? Are the lights shorting out with the moisture? A cold sweat broke out on her brow. Her stomach started to churn. It’s getting late, I should go to bed.  She focused on the burning drums while trying to get all the old lady's voodoo out of her head.

As the mist got closer, the fires highlighted something moving around the edges of the fog. Tall dark shadows drifted in and out of the fog.  What are they? They seem to be human but they are floating. Nah, I’m seeing things. The air temperature was dropping the longer she stood there.  Her fingers started to go numb. Yep, it’s time to go inside.

She lay in bed; the house was dark except for the flickering glow of the fires outside. What are Moonwalkers? The image of the shadows played around in her mind. She tossed and turned, “Oh bloody hell.” She climbed out of bed grabbing her nightgown. Cowering in the shadows in her loungeroom she peered out the window. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the number of shadowy figures had grown. The mist was only a few houses away and streets were full of tall hooding figures silently drifting. They would randomly appear and then disappear just as quickly. Am I hallucinating? 

It was surreal until a dark image sprung up blocking the firelight in front of her window. A whiff of mist circled it as the air in the room went icy cold. The long black cloak hung straight down from its broad shoulders.  The rough fibres on the material stood out again the fire glow behind the stranger. Its long hood masked its face as he looked back at her through the window. A stabbing pain hit her chest and she went to scream but every muscle held her back.  It was close enough to see but the darkness revealed very little. Is this a local playing a trick? Her heart was pounding as a chill ran over her body. The figure shot up through the veranda roof and disappeared. A warmth returned to the room as she dropped down below the window and gasped for air. I need to get to Henry’s place. I will be safer there.

Her pulse was still racing when she slipped on her shoes and snuck for the back door. Peering out into the darkness she scanned for movement. All clear. She scurred for the back fence, hiding out in the bushes. Her forearm caught a wire as she jumped the back fence to the alley and took off running. The night was still silent, she paused as the alley met the street. Numerous ghostly figures roamed the street in front of the glowing mist. Two of them mindlessly crossed in front of her with no reaction. Holding her breath, she sunk back against the fence. Henry! She ran to the first bush glancing back to see if anyone had seen her. The Moonwalkers ignored her as she took off again. 

Arriving at Henry’s house she ducked down behind his timber fence to check she wasn’t been followed. The house was dark and lifeless. Sneaking up to the front door she quietly knocked, “Henry,” she whispered. “Henry,” she murmured knocking again with no response. Damn it. She pulled out the spare key he had given her when they started dating.

Creeping inside she panned the room making sure he wouldn’t attack her. After a quick search, she found the house was cold and empty. He is not here. Did he leave town like the others and not tell me? She dropped onto the lounge taking some deep breaths to calm her nerves. The hours ticked by and the misty glow surrounded by haunting figures lingered outside. Her eyes grew heavy as she laid back on the couch.

***

She was drifting in and out of sleep as the light in the room got brighter. Her attention was drawn to footsteps at the front door followed by the jingling of keys. She jumped up and dropped down behind the couch. Is that one of them? Sweat beaded on her brow as the door swung open.

“Is anyone here?”

It’s him. An energy surged through her body. She jumped up, “Henry.” Rushing forward with her arms outreached. His embrace was not as loving as usual as he held up a large black cloak in one hand. Her jaw dropped as she leapt back. Gasping for air her gaze went from the cloak to his face. “You’re one of them.” The room darkened as she felt herself fall backward.

“Vicky,” the distant sound of Henry’s voice got louder as she felt his hand tapping her cheek. She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her.

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

Fainted? She slowly sat up holding her aching head. Her eyes were drawn to the cloak on the back of the chair. “Where did you find that?”

“Just outside the door.”

“They were here.” Her heart raced once more.

He stood up, grabbed the cloak, pulled back the hood and held it in front of her face. “It has your name embroidered on it.”

What! She snatched the cloak taking a closer look, Victoria Billington “Is this a prank? Where were you last night?”

“I don’t remember anything after sunset.” He pulled her to her feet, “After I lit the fire, I don’t remember anything until the sun rose this morning when I woke up in the forest up the ridge.”

Her eyes widened as she gazed down at her name on the cloak. Feeling lightheaded again she turned the cloak towards him. “The nametag just changed to say your name. What is going on here? Are we Moonwalkers—” He grabbed the coat from her hands as the room went dark again.

She woke up on the couch later, her eyes darted around the room. Where did he go? Grabbing her forehead, “Oh, what happened last night? The Halloween party must have been a big one. I can’t remember anything.”

Vicky jumped as the door swung open, “Henry, where did you go?”

“Down the shop to get some milk. What’s up?”

“What did you do with the cloak?”

He looked back strangely, “Cloak?”

He doesn’t remember.  “You came back this morning with a Moonwalker cloak it had my name on it and it changed to your name.”

“Was your drink spiked last night? I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Where were you last night?”

“I was here all night, asleep in bed,” he grabbed a frying pan, “Why don’t you go for a shower and I’ll make breakfast.”

I checked his bed, but he was not there. Something strange is going on here. “Yeah,” she muttered wandering down the hall. Entering the bedroom, she went to the wardrobe to get fresh clothes. A gust of cold air came from the cupboard as the doors opened. Pushing aside his work clothes two black cloaks with their names on them hung hidden in the corner. Her heart jumped as they vanished in a whirl of mist before her eyes. She rubbed her eyes and pulled back more of his clothes to reveal nothing but spider webs and dust. What happened last night? When I close my eyes, I only get flashbacks here and there. The fires, hood figures and mist. An eerie voice of an old lady talking about Moonwalkers.  

While getting undressed she glanced down at the cut on her forearm from the fence. I have seen that shape before. She came back out to Henry turning over his arm. The same shape scar. What are the chances of that? “Where did you get that?”

“I don’t remember. I got it as a child.”

Vicky quietly sat at the pub later that night. The publican handed her a beer. She glanced at his arm. Her eyes widened as a cold sweat broke out over her body. He has the same scar.  Glancing around the room revealed everyone had the same mark.  Why didn’t I see this before?

They walk the town streets every day not remembering their past as the mountain has captured their souls. Every thirteen years they are allowed down the mountain to claim the souls of the newer residents to build their flock.

The End