The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Bet
by Elaine Pascale

“You leave the candy here.” She took a pull on the joint while pointing to a hollow in a fallen log. He wondered if she would notice that the blunt was more tobacco than weed. He was her boyfriend, not her supplier and if she wanted to good stuff, she would figure out how to pay for it. “We say her name three times and she will appear,” she instructed.

“This is stupid.” He was annoyed that they were in the middle of the park on Halloween night, instead of having sex in his car. Only little kids would waste their time on a ghost hunt.

“She is not a ghost; she is a demon.”

Had he said ghost hunt aloud? For the umpteenth time, he considered finding a less creepy girlfriend, one who liked going to games at the school and partying after. One who didn’t own several different Ouija boards and a scrying mirror.

“If she does not appear, I get all the candy.” He reached out and retrieved the joint with one hand, putting his free arm around her waist, “And we go back to the car so I can eat the chocolate off you.”

She shook free of him and adjusted the candy to make the tableau more attractive for a supernatural being. 

“Bloody orphan…bloody orphan…” she looked at him and raised her eyebrows. He nodded in encouragement, simply so he could finally be finished with this activity. “Bloody orphan.”

They both looked around, seeing only trees, streetlamps (of which a few were burnt out), and an old rickety bench. Even the crispy fallen leaves were still and silent. 

“Well,” he brushed his hands together, giving the universal sign for “done.” 

“BLOODY ORPHAN…BLOODY—”

“You already tried that,” he grabbed her arm, attempting to pull her back toward the car. “A bet is a bet, and you lost.”

“BLOODY ORPHAN!” She screamed the name of the demon.

He saw a figure appear several yards away. It was not an orphaned child; it was larger, and it appeared to be male. He felt her arms wrap around his chest, holding him in place. The figure moved closer and he could see it was holding a long, sharp knife.

In his final moments, he realized that he had spent a lot of time trying to understand why he dated her. He had never considered why she agreed to be with him.

Now he knew.

Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of  Pixabay.com

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