Scripted

Greg pedalled briskly through his village, enjoying the wind in his hair and enjoying the cool glare of the moon as it shone down on him, passing modest looking houses decorated with cobwebs and fake blood and pumpkins sat on each doorstep, shining a glowing smile, with fine-looking gardens on both sides, then the church on the right, which had the eerie look of a haunted mediaeval building, The kind of building you'd see on those ghost hunting shows, he thought, as he pedalled past it, and feel better doing so.

"Boy!" A voice called from the church door had cawed.

The voice had stopped Greg frozen, his blood going cold, as he looked back to where the voice had come from.

"Yes, you! Come here!" The voice had said.

Greg could see that the voice had belonged to a very pretty red-haired woman dressed as a witch, she was tall and had piercing green eyes, cat-like almost, almost hypnotic. She was wearing a red dress, with a black pointed hat and holding a cauldron in her right hand.

Her appearance had relaxed Greg. Woah, she doesn't look like anything like she just sounded. He thought as he doubled back on his bike, mindful of cars (there was none, the village seemed deserted, Weird for Halloween. He had thought.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart? You look rather pale". The woman had asked Greg in a gentle motherly tone, who was indeed spontaneously feeling ill. From hearing that creepy voice, her voice is different now. How? Did I mishear because I was fixed on getting home fast? Greg had thought but didn't think so, and this unsettled him.

"I..I'm fine. Thank you." Greg had replied, a touch more shakily than he'd wanted to, ruffling his curly hair to warm his scalp from the coldness the breeze from cycling had brought his head.

"Okay, just checking" the woman had replied, never taking her eyes off of him.

She lifted her cauldron and tilted it towards Greg, which he saw revealed a dizzying assortment of treats, far more than the cauldron could seemingly hold, chocolate frogs, marshmallow, Hershey bars, Aeros in mint and orange flavours, dib dabs, refreshers and chuba chubz lollipops.

It looked more than delicious, but the fact that the cauldron seems like a literal bottomless pit of confectionery made his stomach roll, his heart drop out his arse and badly frighten him.

He looked at the bottomless pit of sweets unbelievably, as if in a trance.

"Pretty cool, huh?" She had said, smiling, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, a winning smile, which surely instantly charmed anyone who had been greeted with it.

"Uh, Yeah, totally" Greg had replied, his brown eyes seemingly glued to the pit of sweets.

"I'm Cherry". the woman had said, putting her left hand out.

"Greg". he said in turn, pulling his eyes away and clumsily shaking Cherry's hand.

"Want some?" Cherry had asked warmly, and extended the cauldron to Greg, with a warm, winning maternal smile.

Greg's face contorted into an expression of desperate need. "Yes, Please," He said hesitantly, dribble bubbling out of his mouth like a fountain. It looked as if he'd never ever eaten before and was starving.

"Well go ahead, take as much as you want". Cherry had said with a radiant smile, and handed the bottomless cauldron to Greg, "Thanks!" He grinned through crooked teeth as he shovelled as many sweets as he could down his jeans pockets and in the front pocket of his red hoodie.

Cherry gently pulled back the cauldron from Greg and said "Happy Halloween". Again in that charming almost hypnotic smile and went back into the church, while Greg had mounted his bike and rode home, feeling on top of the world, feeling like someone popped his cherry.

As Greg was pedalling, Cherry had transformed into a horrific-looking being and was drawing on a whiteboard at the back of the mediaeval looking church, with corpses of men, women and children sat in the pews in attendance, some headless with blood oozing down the neck stumps, others with their jaws ripped open, a boy of maybe about six with his eyes torn out, and one unfortunate man with his entrails dangling from his stomach and wrapped around his neck, all the seeming work of this monstrosity drawing on the whiteboard.

The monstrosity in question was short and chubby, with claws and feet that resembled kangaroos and a face that seemed to be a lion and crocodile mixed, with scaly skin and a great green mane of hair, complete with ridiculously sharp teeth.

Its claws apparently hadn't impeded it's the ability to draw though, as it was crafting an image of Greg wielding a fire axe in one hand and holding a woman's severed head in the other with a huge maniacal grin on his face, so vividly drawn you'd think it was sketched out by an artist.

"There," it had growled, sounding very gravelly and throaty as if it had smoked a pack of 40 every day for the last twenty years.

It had stood back and marvelled at it's drawing, observing it as if it were an art critic, and smiled devilishly, before transforming back into Cherry, wearing a turquoise blue dress, then it's mouth gaped inhumanly wide, breathing in, then inhaling, the corpses in the pews seemingly jostling for position to reach its mouth first as they lurched forward, then pulled one after another like a vacuum into its mouth, swallowing each corpse whole.

It then inhaled again and sucked all of the blood-splattered everywhere into its mouth, leaving the church spotless, gleaming, with the whiteboard with the giant bladed fan sketch remaining.

It then closed its mouth, the mouth returning to normal, grabbed the red handbag that had hung off of the nearest pew on the left, smiled good-naturedly, before departing out the front door, watching from a distance to where Greg was cycling home, all too aware of what was to come next.