Ghost Town – Scary Halloween Short Story
Halloween Poems – Ghost Town Poem
Ghost Town – Halloween Scary Poem
The old boards creaked from the heavy winds ready to give way as the crying moans poured into the damp air, sounding haunted. A crumpled piece of paper flew in the wind’s current, as a tin trashcan rolled across the empty alleyway followed by it’s filling.
The kaput doors of the saloon swung helplessly as they hung on lone hinges, when they were once sturdy and efficient- many a man walked through those swinging doors. Sometimes if you listen closely you can still hear people of old rushing about their day, children laughing and horses neighing.
A perfect little town, now nothing but a Ghost Town. At night, when the winds are high- you can hear the gunshots from many a battle. Shots so loud and deafening, leaving your heart hammering as if you were in the middle of it all. The screams hover in the air like ghosts making their presence felt, giving your spine a shrill pricking. The clanks of their footsteps come louder as the spurs tap the floor with each tread- making your body jump each time. You pull the covers up around you, and you wonder to yourself why you ever thought it would be fun to visit and stay in a haunted house. The clanking thumps get louder and you reassure yourself that people do this all the time and they make it out alive- so why are you so scared- what are you so scared for?
A tree branch screeches across the window and a crack of thunder bellows as lightning illuminates the sky giving you a glance of a monster outside your window, trying to claw its way inside. But it’s only a tree, right? You find it hard to pull your eyes away from the delicate glass till those paced steps stop in front of your bedroom door. Your chest is heavy, you find it hard to breathe while your whole body shakes with fear, you smell of fear.
The sound of your heartbeat is loud in your ears as you strain to listen for sounds. The silence starts to play games with your mind and the shadows of the furniture come to life and begin to creep towards you. They’re getting closer and their fingers spread out wide to touch you. The bedroom door swings open and slams up against the wall bringing forth a gust of air that makes you catch your breath.
The shadow monsters disappear back into the walls from whence they came. Not a sound is heard but your shaken breath. Your eyes struggle to adjust in the dark room, straining to see what’s in front of you. The void of darkness pulls you in deeper and you open and close your eyes tightly over and over trying to see- until you get a glimpse of a soft white glow.
Slowly you begin to focus as the glow becomes larger, gliding towards you clanking its spurs with each drifted stride. His features are strong, chin chiseled and a neatly groomed mustache. He was once a very brawny man You try convincing yourself that it is only an apparition and he can’t hurt you, and while he just stands there hovering at the foot of your bed you finally become quite confident and un-frightened.
You find your voice- point a finger to the door and tell him to go away. Crawling out from under your covers and up on your knees you scream for him to get out, with your hands on your hips- you show him you mean business. The ghost’s hand reaches down to his holster and pulls out his old trusty pistol and gives it a click as he points it towards you.
Every ounce of bravery you had just washed away as the color drained from your face leaving you pale and cold. You’re ‘as a matter of fact’-hands on the hips went to waving in front of you as you beg and plead for him not to shoot. A smile teased on the his lips and he said one word that had you moving like no body’s business. “RUN”. And you did. Without even thinking you run right off the foot of your bed, and right through the ghost- which leaves you even colder.
You run down the hall screaming with your arms flying everywhere yelling “he’s gonna shoot me- he’s gonna shoot me”. Bedroom doors fly open as other guests hear the commotion and come out to see what was going on. They see you running back and forth babbling, finally someone grabs a hold of you to calm you down.
A few guests go down to your room to check it out- they find nothing. Your body shakes like a jack hammer and you still babble through chattered teeth, until someone suggests that you go change your clothes. It’s then that you realize you’ve wet yourself. Entering your room, it feels calm- not cold and haunted like it did before.
A nice hot shower does the trick and you calm yourself with a glass of whiskey. It’s been a long night and time has already passed into the morning and your once wide- frightened eyes have finally given in to it’s heaviness, leaving you to a deep slumber. Ole Roy glided his way down to the cellar that used to be a card room back in the olden days. A satisfied smile filled his face as he walked in and joined the others.
The Gun Slingers all sat around their table playing poker until ole Clive asked Roy what all the ruckus upstairs was all about. Ole Beau butted in and told Roy that he should be ashamed of himself for making a grown man wet his pants like that. The whole gang of them chuckled and decided that whoever won the poker game got the privilege of haunting amusement the following night. Roy sat back in his chair and said “I bet now he believes in us ghost folk”.
Jamie Edson Opielski
Jamie Edson Opielski is a Poet/Copywriter/writer. She lives in Universal City, Texas with her husband Jason where she is a ‘Write at Home Mom’ of four children; Alona, Matthew and twin boys Jason and Justin. Jamie is the Regional Representative of the San Antonio- Chapter of the National Association of Women Writers. She is also the Senior Press Manager/Regional Press Editor of the Womans-Network. www.texaspoet.net.
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