by Connie R. Watson

With a final slice, Jace completed his carving. He wiped the blood off his knife and stepped back.

Dad looked really cool. The lit candle inside his hollow head cast an eerie light through his vacant eye sockets and gaping mouth.

Jace smiled, turning to the pumpkin they got at the patch that morning. “How’s it look, Timmy?”

“Great job,” Timmy said. “One more to go.”

Jace nodded. He gave the rag he’d used on Dad a quick sniff. There was still enough bleach and acetone mixture to take care of Mom, too.

This would be the best Hallowe’en ever.

Connie R. Watson

Since she was a teenager, Connie R. Watson has enjoyed writing fantasy stories, but recently discovered a new love for sci-fi, folktales, and poetry. You can find out more about Connie and her work by visiting her website connierwatson.com.