Fingers in symphony

Halloween loved Bella.

Each year, it awaited her with darkening skies and leaves blanketing the ground in strange, haunting hues.

She didn’t know it, of course.

Bella was a quiet teenager with only one friend, as much of a recluse as she was. She worked long hours in her dad’s grocery store, often losing track of time. Her period tracker was the only calendar she used.

Bella’s world was mostly routine, shelves, and aisles, where days blurred together, slipping by unnoticed.

She preferred the late evenings to the bright bustle of morning. The customers in the evening were different—warmer, familiar faces that greeted her with smiles instead of the hurried, restless crowd that streamed in by day. She liked them. They checked in on her.

For the past few days, though, something strange clung to the air. A wicked anticipation pierced through the chilly breeze, a shift in the balance toward longer nights and shorter days. And with the dark came lurkers—some merely mischievous, others with darker intent. These lurkers were Halloween’s loyal allies, watching and waiting.

Halloween had wanted Bella for years.

Its obsession had begun one Halloween night when it discovered her crying silently on her porch, alone in the dark.

She was vulnerable, and it wanted to consume her, but all it could muster was a cold chill creeping up her spine.

Two years ago, it pushed her deeper into despair, as she watched her classmates laughing together after school, their joy another reminder of her loneliness. The feeling clawed at her, so relentless that she slapped herself in shame. That night, she awoke screaming, drenched in sweat, her voice hoarse, and her sheets soiled. The humiliation drove her further into the dark.

But this year felt different. For the first time, she was happy—her life at community college had passed without incident, and she’d even found an “almost boyfriend,” who picked her up from work and brought her little gifts from the store where he worked.

She didn’t tell her mother; she wasn’t sure she’d believe it. “How could someone like Bella have a boyfriend?” her mother would say to her father and then they would laugh.

It was autumn again.

This year, Bella felt brave enough to attend the Halloween Ball at ‘The Grail Club’. This was her town’s biggest event that drew everyone in their small Anglo-Indian community. She put on a Wednesday Addams outfit, simple enough to wear without feeling like an misfit.

Anticipation stirred in her stomach, though not as butterflies but something closer to stitches. She and her boyfriend had waited weeks to get her parents’ permission to go, their worries too loud to ignore: “It’s not safe, Bella. Haven’t you seen the news?”

At last, her father agreed, but her mother made her promise to be home by nine. It was a promise Bella knew she’d break. Still, her parents’ fear lingered-stories of disappearances around town had surfaced again, the kind of stories people knew were underreported, just enough to appease the crowd ahead of the festivities.

As she touched up her mascara, her phone buzzed with a message: “Hey something came up last minute here can you meet me at the store”

The lack of punctuation made her pause.

He never texts like this, she thought, a faint worry creeping in. Still, she brushed it off and left, muttering under her breath about staying home.

Outside, Halloween and Diwali celebrations blurred together; kids trick-or-treating in costumes and families in traditional dress headed to visit family & friends.

It surprisingly made her feel less anxious as she wove through the crowd.

But the sense of security faded as she took a shortcut toward the mall’s back entrance. The streets were quieter here, shadows stretching across the road. And then she heard it-a faint tut, tut, tut sound, like small footsteps along the sidewalk, obscured by garbage bins. She quickened her pace, convincing herself it was just a stray cat.

Tut, tut, tut. The sound grew sharper, matching her speed.

The sound reminded her of the basement at her dad’s store, where rats used to scurry at night. Her father, usually against harming any creature, had laid out poisoned puffed rice to get rid of them, their limp bodies later carted off in sacks. The memory flickered in her mind, unsettling her as the sound crept closer.

The air grew colder, and she felt the chill deepen as she neared the mall. She scanned for her boyfriend but didn’t see him, her stomach twisting as she noticed the empty parking where his bike should have been.

Why isn’t he here?

Just then, her phone chimed with another message: “Im just closing up come here I have to show you something”

Nerves jangling, she entered the mall through the rear staircase, an old, decrepit stairwell used by staff. Unlike the grand, polished front entrance, these stairs were worn and dimly lit. Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall, as cold sweat prickled down her back.

When she finally reached his store in the basement, it was almost deserted, most shops already shuttered for the night. A few dim lights cast shadows across the walls, and she shivered as she spotted him standing outside his store, still as a statue.

He wasn’t dressed for the Halloween party; he hadn’t changed into his costume at all. She frowned, her frustration bubbling over.

Why isn’t he ready?

“Hey!” she called, moving closer. “We’re already late. My parents are going to kill me!”

He didn’t move. His expression was eerily blank, his body frozen in place, like a mannequin.

She touched his arm, and a sharp chill shot through her fingers. Her heart dropped. He was a mannequin. His eyes, lifeless; his face, fixed in a vacant stare.

Tut, tut, tut. The noise was right behind her now, louder than before, drilling into her mind as a suffocating dread washed over her. A shadow fell over her, and in that moment, everything went dark.