Danse Macabre

Danse Macabre



Theresa walked down the street on Halloween night.  She watched the little goblins and ghosts run by, thrilled with their haul, and smiled at them.  She was glad none of them were on her list.  She saw a two older boys drinking beer from paper bags.  She knew where they were headed if she didn’t stop them.

         Nobody gave the thin girl with the long red hair, bone white skin and scythe a second glance.  It was Halloween, after all.

         “Hey beautiful,” one of the boys called out.  “Come over and relax!”

         Theresa smiled demurely and went over.  These boys were cute.  And dangerous.  But no match for Theresa.

         “Whatcha up to tonight?” the boy who called to asked.

         “Just walking,” answered Theresa.  “I like to see the kids dressed up.”

         “Yeah, they are adorable,” said the other boy, choking on his beer. 

         “Let’s go down to the old haunted house,” said the first boy.  “Get to know each other.”

         Theresa smiled again.  “All right.  Lead the way, handsome.”

         On the way there, the boys started to try to touch Theresa, but she was too quick.  She always managed to dance one step ahead of them.  The moon created a ghostly, spooky glow but the boys didn’t notice.  Theresa was so pale, but so beautiful.

         “I like the chase,” the boy said when they got to the house.  They sat on the porch and looked up at the beautiful sky.

         “Me too,” said one of the others, sliding his hand onto Theresa’s back.  Instantly he fell down dead.

         “What the-John? Get up,” said the first boy, as he raced to his dead friend.  “John!”

         He looked up Theresa.  “What the hell did you do to him?”

         She shook her head and smiled.  “You’re not very bright, are you?  I killed him.  Best way to stop a potential rapist.”

         The boy looked up at her, flabbergasted.  “Rapist!  We weren’t going to do anything like that!”

         “Liar,” said Theresa.  “I have been called upon to take the girls whose lives you’ve ruined.  Now it’s your turn.  Halloween is the one night of the year when I get to choose who goes to the next world.”

“You’re the Reaper?” the boy asked, shaking.  He backed up into a tree.

“I sure am!  My name means ‘reaper’.  And yours, Daniel, means ‘God is my judge’.”

With that, she touched the astounded boy with her scythe and he joined his friend.

She walked into the haunted house and stood in front of the mirror.  It was a special mirror, so she could see herself. 

“Amazing, isn’t it?” she said as she reached down to scratch her cat’s chin.  “Those stupid boys never saw it coming.  They thought the Reaper is like Ghostface in Scream.  Imagine if they saw me in the clothes and make-up I usually have to wear.  It’s so nice to be able to go out without make up on Halloween!”