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Winners of the "Halloween Stories for Pacifists" Competition
Waiting for the Sun to Rise (3rd Place)
Graduate school was killing the Mummy. Iowa City--which she thought would feel like home by now--still made her uneasy. The stories she was writing were fine, but none really excited her. The classes she thought would be so inspiring had started to feel like someone pulling her brain out through her nose. All in all, she was in a major funk.
One Saturday, after staring at a blank page all morning, the Mummy decided she needed to get out of town. She knew she had an open invitation to sleep on the Creature from the Black Lagoon’s couch in Chicago, so she texted the Creature that she was coming and biked to the bus station.
During the bus ride, she called the Creature every hour on the hour. No response. She started to worry. In Chicago, she went to a movie and got a late supper, but still no word from the Creature.
She realized, of course, that this was her own doing. Clearly, she should have talked to the Creature before leaving. Now there wasn’t another bus until the next morning.
Looking on her phone, the Mummy found a monster bar downtown next to a 24-hour diner. It seemed a decent enough way to kill the time. The bar was full of loud music and flirting, but that only made the Mummy feel worse. She found an empty table in the back and tried to read.
When the Werewolf stumbled over to her table, she worried that he was just feeling sorry for the sad dork reading in the corner. He was beautiful; much better looking than the men she had dated before. And even though he was absolutely smashed, he was still charming. Kinda quiet. Kinda funny. No ham-handed passes or pushy bullshit. When she felt the back of his soft, furry hand brush against hers, she could feel her heart in her chest. As the Werewolf began to sober up, the Mummy only got drunker. She started talking about her awful day and about hating grad school and about missing her family. Before she knew it, the bar was closing.
The Werewolf invited the Mummy back to his house, but the Mummy felt like she couldn’t say yes. “I’m sorry, but--after the day I’ve had--sex just isn’t on the table for me right now.” The Werewolf answered, “But you still need somewhere to sleep, don’t you?”
The Mummy thought about sending someone her location, but was too embarrassed to text anyone in the middle of the night.
The Werewolf asked if the Mummy would mind watching some TV before going to bed. He said he always needed to wind down a little before he could get to sleep. But winding down turned into getting stoned and playing dominoes and ordering pizza. Before long, it was almost sunrise. The Werewolf grabbed some sweatshirts and hats and blankets and the two of them layered up to meet the cold October morning.
Sitting on the roof and watching the sun rise and the dark sky catch fire, the Mummy was more than just undead. She was alive.
Henry and the Jack-O-Lantern (2nd Place)
When Henry got back from work on November 1st, he was greeted at the door by his Jack-O-Lantern. “Where do you see this relationship going?” Henry was stunned. He rushed inside, but could still hear the Jack-O-Lantern yelling on his front porch.
“What do you want?” Henry asked.
“I want to know what’s next for us. Halloween has passed, you know? And the growing season isn’t getting any longer.”
“Well,” Henry said, taking a second to try and be political about this, “I think it’s probably best for both of us if I threw you away.”
“Best for both of us?”
“You’re going to start rotting soon. You don’t want that.”
“I’m going to start rotting soon because you ripped my guts out and carved my face like some demented vegan Hannibal Lector.”
“Oh, don’t talk to me like that,” Henry rushed. “Look down this block. Everyone has a Jack-O-Lantern. It’s what people do for Halloween.”
“Oh, then I’m sorry,” the Jack-O-Lantern snorted. “I didn’t realize it’s ‘what people do.’ Well that changes everything.”
“Considering that I’ve already carved you, what do you want me to do?”
“I want to come inside. I want to be comfortable. I want to enjoy my retirement.”
Henry was nervous about this idea, but he couldn’t see the harm in giving it a go. He let the Jack-O-Lantern try some of his favorite foods and watch his favorite movies. They didn’t have a lot in common, but they understood each other. Henry even started to like having someone else around the house. When the Jack-O-Lantern started leaking, Henry put down towels and a pillow and tried to make the Jack-O-Lantern comfortable. Neither of them acknowledged that they were getting closer to the end.
Henry decided to skip work and drive the Jack-O-Lantern to his favorite spot, a hidden look-out in the mountains. On the hike up, the Jack-O-Lantern started to cry. When Henry asked what was wrong, he said that it was because he had never seen anything this beautiful before. The hike was short but rocky. When they made it to the top, Henry realized he had left the pillow in the car. The rocky ground was too harsh for the softening pumpkin. Leaving Jack on the mountain top, Henry rushed back to the car. When he got there, he froze. He had a sudden urge to drive away. Did he really want to watch Jack slowly fall apart? Would he be able to handle that? Besides, the mountain isn’t such a bad place to go. He had even thought--in the dark days while he was waiting to hear back about his biopsy--that this is where he would want to spend his last days; just looking out at the mountains and remembering how big and beautiful the world is. He started the car and sat, wondering what he should do.
Driving down the mountain later that night--Jack safely nestled in his passenger seat--Henry was glad that he decided to go back up the mountain. Even though they had only been together for a week, that silly little Jack-O-Lantern had become the light of his life.
But He Never Did (1st Place)
In the bedroom--finally alone--Frankenstein apologized to Dracula. He said that he never should have come to the party in the first place. He just couldn’t help himself, even if he knew better. Dracula sat down on the bed next to Frankenstein. He loosened his cape and rested his head on Frankenstein’s shoulder. “But I wanted you to come,” Dracula whispered. “I nearly fainted when I saw you come through that door.”
“Listen, whatever there was between us--once, a long time ago--it’s dead.”
“What is death to the two of us?”
Frankenstein stood up and walked to the other side of the room. He said, “But things do die. Again and again. And fighting that, it isn’t going to make anyone’s life any better.”
“Oh, is that your great realization?”
The two stared at each other, slowed and sluggish; weighed down by the memories of all of the nights spent in this room. Frankenstein broke the silence.
“Look, Frankenstein don’t want to fight.”
“And I do?”
“Frankenstein really don’t know.”
Dracula stood up and slowly made his way over to Frankenstein. He put his arms around Frankenstein’s waste and nestled his head into the crook of Frankenstein’s pale green neck. “I just don’t understand why you get to make this decision for the both of us. I’m not ready to give up.”
“Because Frankenstein realizes that we don’t make each other happy. So Frankenstein is doing the right thing. Even if it’s hard for Frankenstein. And someday, Dracula will realize that.”
As Frankenstein left the castle, Dracula turned into a bat and flew to the top of the tower. He wanted to see if Frankenstein would look back, but he never did.
Graduate school was killing the Mummy. Iowa City--which she thought would feel like home by now--still made her uneasy. The stories she was writing were fine, but none really excited her. The classes she thought would be so inspiring had started to feel like someone pulling her brain out through her nose. All in all, she was in a major funk.
One Saturday, after staring at a blank page all morning, the Mummy decided she needed to get out of town. She knew she had an open invitation to sleep on the Creature from the Black Lagoon’s couch in Chicago, so she texted the Creature that she was coming and biked to the bus station.
During the bus ride, she called the Creature every hour on the hour. No response. She started to worry. In Chicago, she went to a movie and got a late supper, but still no word from the Creature.
She realized, of course, that this was her own doing. Clearly, she should have talked to the Creature before leaving. Now there wasn’t another bus until the next morning.
Looking on her phone, the Mummy found a monster bar downtown next to a 24-hour diner. It seemed a decent enough way to kill the time. The bar was full of loud music and flirting, but that only made the Mummy feel worse. She found an empty table in the back and tried to read.
When the Werewolf stumbled over to her table, she worried that he was just feeling sorry for the sad dork reading in the corner. He was beautiful; much better looking than the men she had dated before. And even though he was absolutely smashed, he was still charming. Kinda quiet. Kinda funny. No ham-handed passes or pushy bullshit. When she felt the back of his soft, furry hand brush against hers, she could feel her heart in her chest. As the Werewolf began to sober up, the Mummy only got drunker. She started talking about her awful day and about hating grad school and about missing her family. Before she knew it, the bar was closing.
The Werewolf invited the Mummy back to his house, but the Mummy felt like she couldn’t say yes. “I’m sorry, but--after the day I’ve had--sex just isn’t on the table for me right now.” The Werewolf answered, “But you still need somewhere to sleep, don’t you?”
The Mummy thought about sending someone her location, but was too embarrassed to text anyone in the middle of the night.
The Werewolf asked if the Mummy would mind watching some TV before going to bed. He said he always needed to wind down a little before he could get to sleep. But winding down turned into getting stoned and playing dominoes and ordering pizza. Before long, it was almost sunrise. The Werewolf grabbed some sweatshirts and hats and blankets and the two of them layered up to meet the cold October morning.
Sitting on the roof and watching the sun rise and the dark sky catch fire, the Mummy was more than just undead. She was alive.
Henry and the Jack-O-Lantern (2nd Place)
When Henry got back from work on November 1st, he was greeted at the door by his Jack-O-Lantern. “Where do you see this relationship going?” Henry was stunned. He rushed inside, but could still hear the Jack-O-Lantern yelling on his front porch.
“What do you want?” Henry asked.
“I want to know what’s next for us. Halloween has passed, you know? And the growing season isn’t getting any longer.”
“Well,” Henry said, taking a second to try and be political about this, “I think it’s probably best for both of us if I threw you away.”
“Best for both of us?”
“You’re going to start rotting soon. You don’t want that.”
“I’m going to start rotting soon because you ripped my guts out and carved my face like some demented vegan Hannibal Lector.”
“Oh, don’t talk to me like that,” Henry rushed. “Look down this block. Everyone has a Jack-O-Lantern. It’s what people do for Halloween.”
“Oh, then I’m sorry,” the Jack-O-Lantern snorted. “I didn’t realize it’s ‘what people do.’ Well that changes everything.”
“Considering that I’ve already carved you, what do you want me to do?”
“I want to come inside. I want to be comfortable. I want to enjoy my retirement.”
Henry was nervous about this idea, but he couldn’t see the harm in giving it a go. He let the Jack-O-Lantern try some of his favorite foods and watch his favorite movies. They didn’t have a lot in common, but they understood each other. Henry even started to like having someone else around the house. When the Jack-O-Lantern started leaking, Henry put down towels and a pillow and tried to make the Jack-O-Lantern comfortable. Neither of them acknowledged that they were getting closer to the end.
Henry decided to skip work and drive the Jack-O-Lantern to his favorite spot, a hidden look-out in the mountains. On the hike up, the Jack-O-Lantern started to cry. When Henry asked what was wrong, he said that it was because he had never seen anything this beautiful before. The hike was short but rocky. When they made it to the top, Henry realized he had left the pillow in the car. The rocky ground was too harsh for the softening pumpkin. Leaving Jack on the mountain top, Henry rushed back to the car. When he got there, he froze. He had a sudden urge to drive away. Did he really want to watch Jack slowly fall apart? Would he be able to handle that? Besides, the mountain isn’t such a bad place to go. He had even thought--in the dark days while he was waiting to hear back about his biopsy--that this is where he would want to spend his last days; just looking out at the mountains and remembering how big and beautiful the world is. He started the car and sat, wondering what he should do.
Driving down the mountain later that night--Jack safely nestled in his passenger seat--Henry was glad that he decided to go back up the mountain. Even though they had only been together for a week, that silly little Jack-O-Lantern had become the light of his life.
But He Never Did (1st Place)
In the bedroom--finally alone--Frankenstein apologized to Dracula. He said that he never should have come to the party in the first place. He just couldn’t help himself, even if he knew better. Dracula sat down on the bed next to Frankenstein. He loosened his cape and rested his head on Frankenstein’s shoulder. “But I wanted you to come,” Dracula whispered. “I nearly fainted when I saw you come through that door.”
“Listen, whatever there was between us--once, a long time ago--it’s dead.”
“What is death to the two of us?”
Frankenstein stood up and walked to the other side of the room. He said, “But things do die. Again and again. And fighting that, it isn’t going to make anyone’s life any better.”
“Oh, is that your great realization?”
The two stared at each other, slowed and sluggish; weighed down by the memories of all of the nights spent in this room. Frankenstein broke the silence.
“Look, Frankenstein don’t want to fight.”
“And I do?”
“Frankenstein really don’t know.”
Dracula stood up and slowly made his way over to Frankenstein. He put his arms around Frankenstein’s waste and nestled his head into the crook of Frankenstein’s pale green neck. “I just don’t understand why you get to make this decision for the both of us. I’m not ready to give up.”
“Because Frankenstein realizes that we don’t make each other happy. So Frankenstein is doing the right thing. Even if it’s hard for Frankenstein. And someday, Dracula will realize that.”
As Frankenstein left the castle, Dracula turned into a bat and flew to the top of the tower. He wanted to see if Frankenstein would look back, but he never did.
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