Old Man Murdock by Gabriel_Pope

The two friends watched with little interest while a family unpacked grocery bags from the black sedan which had just pulled up a moment ago. The echoes of joyous screams from the children rang in the air when an older kid pulled out two large carved pumpkins, each the size of a FIFA football. From down the street, playful laughter echoed from the park where a number of the children in the neighborhood played.

"Tricks or Treats, which were your favorite?" Matt asked, glancing at Sam whose gaze floated across the street, tracing out the pattern of pumpkin decorated lawns and imagining what the sight would be like when darkness fell.

"Tricks," said a voice from behind them, it was followed by the heavy thud of a back pack beside Sam. "At least those are better than having a hangover from too much sugar in my system."

Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head in a playful manner. They hadn't heard Gregg come up to their rooftop rendezvous of Gregg's crib from which they could see pretty much the entire street-and escape annoying adults. Gregg sat across his two buddies, the sandy haired Sam who always wore that I-don't-really-care-because-you're-not-worth-shit attitude and the talkative Matt who always had a trick up his sleeves at every point in time.

"Remember that Night of Demons one?" Matt said, almost bursting into laughter as he spoke. "I still remember the look on the Johansen twins' face."

Sam grinned and shook her head as memories of the fake Halloween school party Matt and Gregg had organized drifted into her head. They'd made sure the party was full and getting all groovy before calling the cops to report the 'murder' which had held a few blocks from where the school principal lived.

"That was back when Halloween wasn't all costume parties," Gregg said in after he'd caught his breath. "These days, I'd rather get wasted in a pub."

"You get wasted every week boy," Sam rolled her eyes. "There'll be nothing special if it happened on a Halloween night."

"Yo guys, check this out?" Matt nodded in the direction of a frail old fellow walking with calculated steps on the walkway with a walking stick feeling the way in front of him."No pets, no family, no visitors and the old man seems just fine."

"Who's that?" Sam lighted a cigarette in her mouth and puffed a mouthful of smoke into the air.

"Old man Murdock," Gregg answered. "He moved in the neighborhood just a few weeks back."

"He looks friendly." Sam watched the man talk with one of the neighbors before crouching to greet their kid.

"Come on, everyone does the good neighbor thing for a while but once they get all comfortable, shit gets real."

The man carried on towards the direction of the park, tapping his way through. She couldn't quite tell but something about him didn't quite settle well with her. For some reason, it all felt like he could hear their discussion although that would be most bizarre.

"How about we gave old man Murdock a proper 'welcome to the neighborhood'," Matt suggested. The smirk on his face was enough to relay what he was thinking.

"No way, it's not what I'm thinking," Sam said, shaking her head in disbelief.

***

The sun had set by the time Sam got home. The heavy stink of tobacco and beer welcomed her as she entered into the apartment. The television was on and turned low and a masculine silhouette was visible in the living room.

"You're late."

Sam ignored the voice and carried on into the kitchen, it's not like she wasn't expecting him not to say anything. She pulled out a Toaster Struddel and threw into the microwave as her stomach growled for real food.

"I said you're late."

"I heard you the first time." Sam raised her head to meet the weary eyes of her father-at least that was what he used to be until he grew into the mess he now was after losing his job as a university's lecturer a few years back.

"You've been hanging out with them again, right?" He took a big gulp of the drink in his hand, "why don't you ever learn?"

The microwave chimed, Sam got up from where she'd been leaning on at the sink and got out her dinner. "The only thing I'd learn from you is how to let my shit loose and push everyone out of my life in the most horrible manner."

She brushed past him made for her room. Small and compact, just the way she liked it. That way she didn't get the chance to have extra space to throw her stuff if she ever got lazy. She plopped into bed, trying to channel her mind away from her messy family, not like she could change it but the thought often weighed her down. But there was their little old man Murdock adventure to look forward to. While she wasn't quite sure of the idea, the thought of what to expect and what they'd find thrilled her.

The sun had finally drifted over to the other end of the globe. Darkness blanketed the sky, sprinkled with tiny dots of stars. Her phone pinged, she rolled over on the bed to see Matt's message; down the rabbit hole in 10. She slid out of bed and changed into a dark jeans and a BVB sweatshirt ready to rendezvous with the gang over at Greg's.

The television was on when reached downstairs, her father was slumped in a chair with bottles of beer littered around him. She sighed and turned away, twisted the door knob and started off into the night. The street had come alive with a glow of orange emanation from most of the houses on the block. Carved pumpkins of different styles could be seen glowing on the walk way and front porches.

Sam halted and glanced over her shoulder, her skin crawled at the sensation of being watched or even worse followed. Up ahead, she could see a number of kids run along from house to house all dressed in different costumes. She heaved and then continued walking, from the corner of her eyes she could make out movements in the shadow; her pulse was starting to pick up. She paused and turned round, nothing except Halloween designed houses.

She'd hardly stepped another foot forward when she felt hands grab her, she spun around instinctively and swung a fist at whoever it was only to hear Greg's moan.

"Told ya she wasn't one to mess with man." Matt burst into a maniacal laughter. "Don't worry, I got that all recorded."

"I'm fine," Gregg muttered, holding his hurt chin, "I'm fine."

She scoffed and gave a silent sigh. "Bet you are."

A police patrol vehicle drove past them; no doubt they were necessary considering Halloween night could escalate quickly to The Purge if the neighborhood wasn't patrolled all night long.

"Alright guys, we don't have all night," Matt said as they approached their destination, old man Murdock's house. The house had been on sale for almost a year before he finally bought it, its previous owners had moved out barely a month after they got in and it was all still incomprehensible to the neighbors what had prompted their move. "This should be fun and easy."

"You're not just going to walk up to the door and go 'Trick or Treat?!'" Sam said, pushing the camcorder away from her face. Someone had decided to play good neighbor and had helped decorate the lawn and porch.

"That could work too but nah," Gregg replied, he led the way up the porch and signaled for them to stay quiet as he pushed the doorbell. A cold washed over Sam's body, this is really happening.

Movements could be heard within the house followed by the fiddling sound of the bolt as someone tried unlocking it. His walking stick appeared first before his face emerged through the door way with a frail smile on his face.

"Is someone there?" His voice was timeworn. He waited for a response but the three friends had practically held their breath. The floor creaked as he opened the door ajar and with his walking stick tapping the floor in front of him, he stepped into the front porch away from the door. "Hello?"

Gregg signaled to the others, with careful movements, they sneaked into the dim passage. Needless to say, Sam's heart thumped hard against her chest upon the realization that she hadn't really thought of how they were getting out.The old man turned back but was halted by the yell of children's 'Trick or Treat!?!' as they ran towards the house.

Holy shit, have we been made? The hair on the nape of Gregg's skin was already standing, his eyes shone in a mix of fear and surprise.His heaved a sigh when it was certain the children had only come for their share of sweets. 'Just go,' he mouthed at the others.

The blinking red light of the camcorder led the way ahead until they were in the living room. There was nothing out of the blue, just the regular furniture you'd find in any living room. The front door shut closed and was bolted, the sound of the tip of his walking stick smacking the floor sounded across the apartment. The three friends watched him find his way to the stairs and then walk upstairs, whistling a tune.

"Let's go check that out," Gregg said, almost in a whisper.

"Look at this," Matt muttered, leading the way up to a painting on the wall with strange markings and inscriptions. "Clue number 1."

Sam tried to get a closer look but it was dark in there and the switch had died out. Gregg and Matt's footsteps faded as they went upstairs. A strange marking wasn't enough to get convinced but for sure, something seemed off about the place. A tumbling from the stairs had her jerking back in shock, her eyes shone in terror watching Gregg roll down the stairs closely followed by a fleeing Matt who almost stomped on Gregg's body at the end of the stairs.

"He's coming, we have to get out of here!" Matt's voice was audibly tense.

What the hell happened? Before she could say a word, the weight of heavy footsteps shook across the entire house. She instinctively raced towards the door in front of Matt, unlocked the bolt in a flash and dashed out, the door slammed shut behind her as she stumbled into the back yard. Wait, b...but that was the front door.

Her limbs ran cold, her lips trembled, did the house just move? A scream had her falling to the floor, followed by arguing voices boiling with rage and hate. She clenched her head, it wasn't real. Her breathing was short and shallow, her mom's cry, her father's raging yells, the sound of his belt lashing on her skin, things shattering. Holt salty tears flooded her eyes, her sobs pierced her heart. She let out a loud scream which happened to synchronize with the loud cry from within the house.

Matt's face streamed with sweat, his hands trembled and he felt temporarily paralyzed just after watching Gregg dragged into the shadows of the room.Mustering what was left of his guts, Matt sprinted towards the dim kitchen in hopes of fleeing through the back door. He'd felt unusually strong arms grip on his arm, threatening to break his bone. He let out a painful moan just before this throat felt the clutch of fingers around them, chocking him. Pain seethed through him, he tried breaking free but his hands only fluttered in futility. With a harsh half-stifled yell, he rammed his back against the wall, spinning around until he tumbled over on the furniture in the living room with his captor.

He yanked open the back door at the rear of the kitchen and closed it shut in a flash. His breathing was harsh, his heart beat was fierce and his feet were frail. What the hell had he played into it? The room in which he was in was dim, light seeped in through the window and floating curtains. His heart beat like the thrumming wings of a caged bird when a bang landed on the door. The thought of old man Murdock entering the room made him take to the closet for refuge without thinking.

The bang sounded again, then again, getting harder with each bang.He stepped back more into the closet until his back was touching the rough, bumpy wall behind him. He felt through it, oval shaped figures stacked on each other with 3 cavities. His skin crawled, he pulled out the lighter from his pocket and flicked it on. His stomach fluttered at the sight of skulls, hundreds of them stacked on each other. A cockroach came crawling out from one of the hollow eyes followed by a second and a third until they were trooping out like a fountain flowing towards his foot.

His eye shone in disbelief, no.He felt a handful of roaches crunch under his shoe as he stumped on them but even as much as he did they managed to crawl their way into his trouser. He wiggled at the sensation of tiny legs dancing up his skin to his thighs and laps. He snacked himself time and time again, his heart pounded against his chest as he inflicted pain on his body.

A choked cry forced itself up his throat when he stumbled and fell on his back, tiny legs quickly swallowed his arms and torso up his neck.His scream was a muffled scream with a mouth infested by trooping cockroaches.

"Matt!" Sam spun in the direction of the scream.Her trembling hands fumbled with the knob as she dashed back into the apartment. Without a thought of the old man, she started up the stairs following the wailing cry until she found herself in a room filled with paintings. Everything fell quiet and still.

Her ear pricked and her heart jumped to her mouth in shock. She spun around to see old man Murdock putting the finishing touches to one of the paintings. Her legs felt like cooked noodles, betraying her will to flee. Her legs remained glued to where she stood, somewhat paralyzed as her heart pumped with so much pressure.

"How do you like your paintings?" His voice was gruff and time worn. His eyes fell on hers revealing so much evil she wished not to behold, "in frames, or alive?"

Sam's eyes shone in maddening fear, the figures in the room slowly came to live, changing into a dark smoky aura like shadows. She tried to scream but couldn't mutter a word through her sewn lips. Her breathing was harsh and fast as the shadows surrounded her, she shook her head as though trying to wake from a nightmare but couldn't shake off the feeling of fear. Cold sweat trickled down her face. The ropes tore through her lips as she let out a fearful cry of terror just before the darkness embraced her.

***

"You don't remember all of this?" the cop asked.

Sam shook her head, staring unbelievably at the video the cops had gotten from the camcorder. It was a video of old man Murdock being interviewed by she and her friends-Gregg and Matt who were still unconscious at the hospital. That never happened, at least that wasn't what she remembered-or it could've all been in her head.