• Suddenly she was there. In the dark and silent caves. The air seems humid and full of the smell of the decayed and decomposed. October crept slowly inside. Not sure of what just happened.

    “Mom? Mom? Why are you taking me here?”

    “Yes, my dear, slower, go a little slower, you are making too much noise” a soft sore voice comes from deep inside the dark tunnels

    Without any light at the pitch of the darkness, October continues to walk slowly following the sound of her mother’s voice. She stumbles upon one or two what it seems like sticks, only it is rather smooth. God knows what is really inside there. The sound of squeaking mice and their hurried steps slowly made her blood shiver, in some way, though she was not sure if she was scared.

    She continues to follow her intuition. Every block, every turn, seems that she had been here before, thus she did not remember when.

    October had lived by herself all these times, but she denies if anyone asks her so. She would say that she lives with her dear mother whose voice keeps roaming and wandering inside her head and heart. People might think that she was just a poor little girl who has lost her mother. Nevertheless, she knows she is not. She never met her mother in person. However, she hears her voice every time. Others would just not believe her, but she would not waste her time to convince them.

    October keeps on strolling upon the dark tunnels. Step by step. Turn by turn. It gets darker and darker. Just like her cold stoned heart.

    People try to avoid her as much as possible. Thus, she does not have anyone to share, or at least to understand her. Her rage is undeniably unpleasant. Somehow, she could not control herself if she was in anger. Her other self who was dreadfully terrible came out, and suddenly she was not aware of what she was doing. Flashes came to her eyes, though she was not aware of what it meant.

    Just like today when Patricia Sparks called her a witch, an “orphan”, and got people throwing rocks at her shack, as they always do. Patricia then tries to imitate the sound of October’s mother, squeaks and squeals that drove October on her rage. Her dreadfully terrible self to emerge. Flashes. Screams. The dark tunnels.

    October continues to saunter upon the dark caves and tunnels. After a few steps later, she began to see a dim light between walls. Between walls which was full of smooth white sticks scattered everywhere. Some lying one on top of another. Moreover, a vast vast amount of red. Red.
    October’s eyes gleamed. How she loves that color.

    “Hello. My dear” The familiar voice of her mother surprised October. “What have you brought here?”

    She walks a couple of steps backwards, since she never heard of her mother’s voice so loud and clear.

    “Do not be afraid, my dear one, It is me, your mother” her voice grows louder, as a dark figure suddenly jumps out of nowhere. It walks slowly towards frightened, but curious little October.

    “It is me, October, It is me, your mother” she spoke again. October gleamed at her mother for the first time in her life. She had sharp ears, black, shiny fur, four sharp and glistening claws, and dark, round eyes. She was beautiful.

    “Why, my dear October. How are you?”

    “Mother?”

    “Yes my dear, it’s me, your mother. I figured this is the perfect time for you to know who you really are.”

    October looked at herself. She had black fur, four sharp glistening claws, and black round eyes. Just like her mother.

    “You are now getting older. Happy birthday, my dear October” her mother spoke

    October remembered that tonight, is the day. The day when the sorrow winds howl, making trees shiver and lose every bit of their leaves and fruits they have grow. The day when humans sacrifices for their beloved ones who passed away. The day when she was born. October 31, 500 years ago.

    October growled, as she let go of what she has been carrying in her teeth since she arrived in the dark tunnels. It made a thump sound as it fell to the ground. Flesh and blood flowed through, reaching October’s shiny claws. She growled again.

    “Thank you, mother” October uttered. “I brought this for you”

    The body of Patricia Sparks lay lifelessly in the cold hard grounds of the cave. Her fairy Halloween dress was torn apart, ripped, and destroyed carelessly. Her skin was also torn apart, as if it was only a mere thin layer of clothing covering what October really wants: Flesh and blood.

    “She called me witch, and an orphan, Mother!” October cried. She breathes hard, then growled with such a gleam of hatred in her eyes. This is her rage. Her inner, terrible self. Her true self.

    She placed her right, fore claw in Patricia’s beat less chest. Ready to rip it open.
    “Its okay, my dear. You know you are not a witch, and certainly not an orphan,” said her mother, as she placed one of her claws too in Patricia’s motionless body.

    “I know mother, I am BETTER!” growled October as she closed her fist slowly feeling blood over her claws and the soft, pink flesh. “Let's begin our feast!” she cried, echoing through the walls of the dark tunnels of emptiness.

    They clawed her body open, and began their grand feast of flesh, limbs, and blood.
    Rip. Tear. Crunch. Devour.

    “Aoooooooooo…!” Howled October into the vast walls of the dark

    “Aoooooooooo...!” her mother joined, celebrating the night together. The glorious night.

    They howled and moaned, echoing through the dark, silent halls. It echoes and reverbs through the walls, and up to the higher grounds where little children goes door-to-door dressed in little fairies and monsters, chewing treats they got. They do not know what this night really means.

    “Aoooooooooo...!” October howled again through the walls and higher grounds. It echoes through ears of innocent little children.

    This night means sacrifice. And one sacrifice isn’t enough.