After over forty submissions, this is my first Contest story. Hope you like it.
One
I always hated Hallowe'en. Even when I was a kid I thought it was tacky and nasty and never wanted to dress up as a vampire or a wizard to extort treats from neighbours.
Just what possessed me to attend a Hallowe'en party that night took a while to sink in, but when it did, I was long past caring.
It had been one of those days at work and I was itching to get home and relax. The journey by bike was never that much fun, especially on a night like that. I was almost home when an articulated, eighteen-wheeler lorry almost ran me off the road and brushed my elbow as it hurtled past, seemingly oblivious to me. I was left shaken to the core.
I was really spooked as I rode the last few hundred yards to my flat and it was a minor miracle I noticed a sign outside a local club advertising a Hallowe'en bash later that night.
I barely gave it a second thought as I locked up my bike and showered. I rubbed my elbow ruminatively, thinking of the consequences of what could have happened if the lorry had been a few inches closer to me.
It was quite late when I finally ventured out and it was a cold, miserable night. Everything was shrouded in drizzle and mist that seemed to suck the life out of the town instead of setting a perfect backdrop for the trick-or-treaters.
Not that there were any around. The town seemed utterly deserted and I was alarmed to find my regular pub was shuttered and closed for the evening. The whole area looked derelict and the chill breeze sent shivers through me as I plodded on and the drizzle became more and more persistent.
The only light in the bleak landscape emanated from the doorway of the club I had seen earlier. It had only been open for a few weeks and the posters seemed quite appropriate to the situation.
'The End of the World presents a Hallowe'en party to end them all!'
Despite my misgivings, I needed a drink and I needed company. I had no costume, no idea of what I was doing, or why I was prepared to put myself through something I loathed. But no matter - I found myself descending the stairs into the dingy basement bar determined to get something out of my awful day.
As I entered through the set of metallic string beads that passed for a door, I knew I had made a mistake. The place stank - it was rancid and my feet stuck to the carpet as I crossed to the dismal bar with three taps, all serving beer I hated.
It looked like it had been there for decades, crumbling and decaying and not a brand new venture. It was utterly deserted. The DJ booth stood empty, a sad glitterball spun listlessly on its axis and someone was wailing over the PA that he wanted his baby back.
When the Monster Mash followed, I knew I was in trouble.
I somehow repressed every instinct to turn on my heel and leave as the barmaid looked up from her magazine and puffed on a cigarette. No bar, pub or club had allowed smoking in years, but she didn't seem to mind. She looked sixty if she was a day.
Her voice was a croak. "Woccon I getcha, luv?"
It took me a moment to realise she was asking what I wanted to drink. I chose the lesser of the three evils and paid her far too much for it.
"Fankin' you, dearie! Be hottin' up soon, don't worry. Place'll be heavin' by ten-firty!"
I sat in a side booth, grimacing at the taste of the flat, stale beer thinking that the only things likely to be heaving were the maggots in the carpets and curtains. The place was disgusting and I decided to down my drink and head home as soon as humanly possible.
Just as I was about to leave, she wobbled over to my table and banged another pint down in front of me.
"On the 'ouse for bein' our first customer. Love the artfit!" She walked away emitting a hideous wheezy cackle that ended in a racking cough.
I assumed by 'artfit,' she was referring to my lack of an appropriate Hallowe'en outfit. I tried to ignore the lipstick stains on the glass she had given me by depositing the drink into the first, marginally cleaner glass.
I resolved to drink it quickly, head to the gents and hopefully sneak out unseen. I was still the only 'reveller' but at least the music had improved with 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia.'
The carpet was so damp it felt like quicksand and I almost made it to the beaded curtain without being spotted.
As I reached out to part the beads, a hand grabbed my wrist from the other side. I flinched as the curtain parted and a pretty, smiling face beamed up into mine.
"Leavin' so soon, my lovely? Party's just getting started. Where are you in such a hurry to get to, hmm?"
I gazed down at her cherubic grin. She looked about thirty-five, with a mass of curly black hair framing her angelic, rosy-cheeked face. Little red devil horns protruded from an Alice band in her hair and her grin was infectious.
I muttered something about needing to be somewhere else, but she gripped my wrist even harder and dragged me back towards the bar. The feel of her elbow-length red latex glove against my skin sent a little shockwave through me.
She laughed, a trilling, breathy little sound. "Nonsense, my lovely. You got nowhere better to be than right 'ere with me."
Her accent sounded incongruous. I thought it was maybe Cornish, but for some reason, it almost sounded archaic and out of its time.
"C'mon, dearie - 'ave a drink wi' me!"
As we approached the bar there was no sign of the aged crone from before. Now we were in the open, I was able to take in more of my new admirer. She was short, at a little over five feet tall and very nicely rounded. She filled the red latex dress she wore very pleasantly indeed and her ensemble was finished off by black fishnets, red high heeled shoes and a very cute little tail that emerged from beneath her miniscule hemline and ended halfway up her back in a diamond-shaped barb.
As Hallowe'en fancy dress went, it certainly got my vote.
