Experience Writing Writetober Prompt: CASPER
An Imp, a cat, a ghost and a witch took a ride on a horse drawn hay wagon one night before Halloween.
Their horse was black as a tomb it’s fur was soft as a bat’s wing and it walked on the hard icy road without a sound. A Witch sat behind the ghost, with moonlight shining into her eyes and out the back of her head. The moonlit ghost sang off key, and the inky black cat sitting in front of her pinned her ears behind her head and squeezed her eyes shut in pain.
” Do you have to make that sound? ” the cat asked.
” I’m not making sounds, I’m singing. In life I had a beautiful voice. “
” You’re in death now, ” the Cat grumbled low in his throat, ” so cut it out. You’re making my eyes water. “
The Imp with the soft autumn leaf filled body held the horse’s reigns carefully in his hands and wished he had walked the long road from the Cemetery out to Gertie Webb’s house instead of traveling with his friends. On most nights he enjoyed being with his friends, on nights like this he wished daylight lasted longer and that curses that they carried in their little orange plastic pumpkin buckets ran forever instead of for a little while.
As far as they go, curses and hexes are just full of loopholes and get out of jail free cards- nobody was wiser to this fact then the Imp.
” I don’t understand why we have to dress up to deliver curses and potions to Witch who can hop on a broom or a toad and fly to the cemetery and pick them up herself.” The Ghost said to the Witch. ” Why do we even have to store this stuff for her? ”
The little Witch, who was actually a seven foot tall Wendigo in a child’s witch’s costume he had found moldering away in an abandoned barn took a deep breath . He tried not to roar and scream and failed.
The horse was actually a real horse named Tumbles and the Imp horseman is a Zombie named Gilbert and the Cat was actually a cat. Of course this cat could talk and shift it’s shape at will, but it was a cat and most of the time he spent his time curled up on the foot of the bed that the Care Taker at Leaning Birches Cemetery slept on.
The caretaker called him Darwin.
Darwin knew that the reason the Witch sent for her curses from their cemetery and asked the residents to deliver them was that she didn’t want to be too obvious. She loved to sell potions and curses, but she kept her wares as far away from her house as she could for obvious reasons. Getting caught with those things, even in these modern times could get her burned at the stake alive- again.
Supernatural being or not, Fire hurt.
Gertie Webb, the four times burned at the stake and once buried alive Witch told them to play it cool, so the delivery team from Leaning Birches cemetery dressed up like, giggling trick or treaters and they delivered the Gertie’s potions and curses to the houses on her list and when they were done they stopped by Gertie Webb’s house and collected their rewards which were the brightest candied apples this side of the grave covered with caramel, nuts and marshmallows and so much sprinkles that the toppings ended up outweighing the apple in the middle.
When anyone claims they’d crawl to hell and back for a great candied apple, sometimes they really do mean it.
