A Hallowed Anthology: Contest Entries for Halloween Vault 3D

Ghosts of the Past

I'd always wanted to visit Stonehenge. Ever since I was a little girl, I'd begged to visit it, but living in the United States made that a little bit hard for my parents to arrange. But now, since I'd decided to go to college abroad – and I had enough scholarships to do so – I was finally in England, finally at Stonehenge.

The night was dark and cool, a good breeze blowing. I sat in the center of the stone structure, hair blowing back in the wind. This was the coolest thing I'd done in a long time.

Halloween night, and I was sitting in the middle of Stonehenge.

I'm not sure when the voices started, but it was gradual. The wind was blowing one moment, whispering among the stones, and then somewhere along the way, the voiceless whispering changed into words, murmuring a message I couldn't understand.

Without further warning, the voices swelled in volume and then floating figures appeared in the air, dark shapes continuing their foreign chant. My eyes widened and I stared around in shock, having no idea what the heck was going on.

I was in the middle of some strange ritual.

My peaceful night shattered, I started to crawl backwards, seeking refuge behind one of the large stones. The strange words rose on the wind and fear sparked in my blood. This wasn't a joke, this wasn't a prank.

This was real, actually real.

The demons didn't seem to notice me as I pulled myself behind one of the stones, pressing my back up against its cool surface. Taking deep breaths, I closed my eyes, trying to regain some of my ability to think.

Think! Think!

Samhain. The old Celtic festival that eventually became Halloween. This must be Samhain. But how? Why? How could this happen, now?

Shakily, I dragged myself to my feet, readying my nerves to make a run for it. A change in the voices caught my attention and I cocked my head, my heart slowing as I realized I understood them now.

They were saying my name, coupled with a word that sounded an awful lot like "kill."

Adrenaline shot through my veins and I took off, racing for my car. The dark figures swooped after me, flying effortlessly through the air, and for vague dark shapes, they sure as hell looked scary. Snatching my keys from my pocket, I pointed the remote at the car and clicked the button, hearing the thrilling chirp as the car doors unlocked.

I flew toward the car. Not giving myself enough time to slow down, I slammed into the car door and reeled backwards, stars swirling, as my hand jerked out and grasped the handle, yanking it open. As I stumbled backwards, the door swung open and I hurled myself inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

I curled up in a ball on the seat, hands over my head. When I finally looked up, the ghosts were gone.

But so was Stonehenge.