The soft glow of the Jack-o’-lanterns gently illuminated the porch, their orange light bouncing outwards into the black night. Through the window, Jacob could see children, dressed in a range of costumes, from Freddy Krueger to Popeye, a costume he could never quite understand. The children wandered the street, clutching their bags of sweets and sugary goods, their eyes scanning the fronts of all the houses along the street, trying to find their next victim.

 

“Jacob!” his mother screamed. Jacob sighed and closed his eyes, the woman’s tone cutting through the cold air of his bedroom and his closed door, much to his dismay. “Charlotte is waiting!” With another sigh, Jacob stood and walked to the opposite side of his room, picking up the plastic skeleton face mask that hung from the hook on his door. Sliding the elastic around his head, leaving the mask sitting on his forehead, Jacob walked down the creaking stairs towards his irritated mother and pouting sister.

 

“What?” he groaned, tapping his pocket, feeling the edges of his phone. “I was waiting for you.”

 

“No, you weren’t!” Charlotte shouted, her angry face fixed on him, attempting to fill him with guilt, but Jacob sighed and rolled his eyes. His mother stepped forward, adjusting the backpack on the little girl. It was then that Jacob noticed what Charlotte was wearing. It was a home-made ‘Dora the Explorer’ outfit, complete with crudely drawn faces for the map and backpack. The colours of the girl’s shirt and shorts were also vastly different from the look of the character on the show. Her long, plaited blonde hair wasn’t helping either. If Jacob hadn’t heard his sister shouting about the costume for the previous week, he would have struggled to know what it was. Not that he had put much effort into his own costume. He was wearing a baggy, slightly grubby, skeleton suit he had ordered online, from the cheapest store, for the cheapest price. When it had arrived, it was scrunched up in a ball and the mask was bent out of shape. His mother had insisted on ironing it, which only made the costume seem more dated than it really was, giving it a ‘family heirloom’ appearance.

 

“Right,” his mother grunted, pulling the strap of the backpack tight against the girl. She then stood, looking into Jacob’s bored and tired eyes. “You know the rules,” she ordered, the little girl at his feet nodding and grinning wildly, “stay on this road and be back before eleven.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob dismissed, waving his hand in front of his mother’s face. The woman tensed slightly but Jacob shook the action off, wanting to leave and get back as soon as possible.

 

“Yes, Mum!” Charlotte shouted, heavily brushing her fringe out of her eyes. Without looking, she reached up and grabbed Jacob’s hand and dragged the teen out of the door. They passed the Jack-o’-lanterns on their own porch, their slightly burned and blackened state making them look diseased and rotting. The carvings were crude and messy, vein attempts to build a face out of the near-one-year-old pumpkin that had been growing since last year. The candle inside was dying, flickering with every breeze that rolled past, only threatening to end its suffering, but never staying long enough to kill it. Charlotte continued to drag Jacob across the front garden, passing the few cheap Halloween ornaments his mother could find and afford in Asda, covering the garden in an orange hue that almost fitted with the rest of the surrounding buildings. Once on the street, Jacob followed his sister as she ran to several doors, patiently waiting for him to arrive and then running to the door, knocking on it and displaying her backpack and saying the same Halloween phrase that hundreds of children say every year when they arrive at peoples’ doors.

 

“Trick or treat!” Charlotte sang. Each person would smile and nod at the girl, then distribute a small selection of candy into her open backpack. Then their eyes would meet Jacob’s and their smile would falter slightly. He did his best to match the adorable grin of his sister, but he could never quite match it. They would try to copy their earlier smile, but their eyes would never match their earlier grin. Eventually, he gave up, leaving the smiling to Charlotte. Soon, they reached the end of the road and Charlotte spun on her heel, eagerly facing the houses on the opposite side of the street. As Jacob turned to follow the skipping girl, a flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He froze and reversed his motion, the light catching again. He pivoted and look towards the light. It was coming from a house at the end of the road. Jacob furrowed his brow and stepped closer, the house becoming clearer.

 

“Jacob!” Charlotte called. She had reached the front garden of the next house and was waiting for him, just like her mother had told her to do. He ignored her and wandered forwards, closer to the house. The looming home was dark, its bricks were broken and crumbling, a single gust of wind could bring the structure into a heap of debris. Its windows were boarded up, long planks covering the shattered glass, forcing the wind into a whistle as it passed through, giving the building a melody, one you could almost hear. Its roof was pitched tall, taller than any other building along the street, extending its height even further. Jacob craned his neck, trying to see how far back the building stretched, but it was impossible to see through the night that seemed to cover the building like a blanket. He took another step closer, the darkness around it lifting slightly, allowing him to see the stairs leading to the front door. The door itself seemed relatively new. No boards covered it and no splinters stuck out like daggers, unlike the house’s wooden frame. The stairs leading to it were very different, however, with holes in most of them, leading down into the basement Jacob could see through the barred windows in the foundations of the building.

 

“Jacob!” Charlotte called again, stamping her foot in protest, but still, he remained silent. She watched at the teenager slowly ascended the stairs, his eyes fixed on the door and one hand slowly rising to press against the wood. Charlotte stamped her foot again and slung her backpack over her shoulder, a sense of confidence filling her. After she checked the road for oncoming cars, she ran over towards the house, following Jacob into the foyer. By the time she had entered the building, Jacob had already vanished from her view, disappearing into a neighbouring room or up the large central staircase that dominated the foyer. Desperately, Charlotte scanned the room, hoping to catch a glance of her brother wandering the halls.

 

“Jacob?” she whispered, terrified her voice would attract unwanted attention. Above her, wood started to creak. Charlotte froze, her eyes slowly lifting to the ceiling, watching as small patches of dust fell. She sighed slightly. “Jacob?” she whispered, a little louder. Another creak, another patch of dust, then they stopped. Charlotte sighed shakily, the blackness of the house filling her with an awful sense of dread, like eyes watched her from every shadow. With the thought in her mind, she walked forwards, into the room on her left, which happened to be the kitchen. Her eyes wandered around the space, picturing it how it would have looked if cared for. In the centre of the room was a table, old and rotten, one leg on the floor and the other three with scratches and marks, as if gnawed by an animal. Too large for a fox, but Charlotte brushed it off, not hearing any growls from the familiar orange creatures around her. A hand suddenly landed on her shoulder and Charlotte screamed, spinning around and throwing herself behind the door to the large cupboard that sat beside the countertop. Jacob sighed and rolled his eyes at the girl’s reaction.

 

“It's me,” he said, kneeling down and helping her up, pulling small pieces of wood from her hair and off her clothes. “Don’t worry,” he muttered, the sigh in his voice gentler and kinder than before. After making sure the girl wasn’t hurt or mucky from the disgusting floor that covered the house, he looked into her eyes and smiled. Charlotte smiled back and took his hand, gesturing to the door.

 

“Can we go now?” she asked, a small plead weaved through her tone. Jacob nodded, looking around the kitchen quickly before leading the girl out.

 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “Sure. I can find somewhere else to…” Jacob was cut off by a hand snatching him off the ground, pulling him up towards the balcony that ran around the edge of the foyer. Charlotte screamed as the hand swung him around, throwing him against the wall. Quickly, Charlotte ran back into the kitchen, diving into the cupboard again and closing the door behind her, her small hand clenched tightly around it, holding it shut. Above her, she could hear loud stomps, something heavy running around the floor above her. Something large. A low growl echoed throughout the building, surrounding her. Charlotte kept her mouth closed, her mother’s words returning to her.

 

“Just wait, Jacob will be there for you,” she whispered to herself. Something scuttled across the ceiling, either above or below, she couldn’t tell, but it was fast, much faster than her. Suddenly, a scream rippled through the air and something landed heavily on the ceiling above her. Charlotte closed her eyes and covered one ear, trying to block out the scream, but she couldn’t. It stung her ear, like a razor-sharp blade slowly cutting across skin. The scream continued, as did the scuttling. Another thud. The scream rose in pitch. Charlotte squeezed her eyes closed further, trying not to picture her brother being torn to pieces, limbs thrown across the room before being fetched again and eaten. The scream died down, leaving a heavy pant echoing through the house, a slow shuffle stretching across the room.

 

“Charlotte!” a weak cry came. Charlotte didn’t answer, her lips sealed tightly together. The shuffle slowly continued, gradually passing over her to the corner of the room above her. The low growl rose again, and the panting increase. “Please,” the desperate cry came, but it was ignored. Another scream shot out, but it was short-lived. A deafening snap bounced around the house, and the scream fell, as did something above her. As quietly as possible, Charlotte pulled herself into a tight ball, keeping one hand on the door, holding it closed. Something started to drip onto the floor outside the cupboard, but Charlotte didn’t need to open the door to know what it was. The low growl continued, and a squelching sound started to trickle from the ceiling, and more cracks snapped throughout the house, each one making Charlotte flinch.

 

“Just wait,” she whispered, “and Jacob will be there for you.” The sounds continued, the growl becoming satisfied, a purr sounding between the bone cracks and tearing muscle. Whatever it was continued to feast, seemingly forgetting about the girl that hid in the cupboard, whispering the same line to herself, over and over again. Charlotte pictured herself with her friends, skipping along the road, holding their hands and laughing with them, complementing each other on their Halloween costumes. The pictures were fuzzed, a small halo resting above each of their heads, their smiles wide and beaming, filling Charlotte with happiness. She relaxed slightly, allowing her head to rest against the side of the cupboard, but her hand remained firmly grasped against the door. The picture changed and she was back home, her mother bringing her dinner to her and setting it down in front of her. Jacob appeared beside her and wrapped the girl up in his arms, a beaming smile across his face.

 

“What have you got to remember?” he asked her. Charlotte smiled and nodded her head knowingly.

 

“Just wait,” she said, “and you will be there for me.” Jacob nodded and Charlotte turned back to her dinner. Then the image faded, but Charlotte kept her eyes closed, shutting out the sounds coming from above her. “Just wait,” she whispered, her smile still present on her face, “and Jacob will be there for me.”