"Trick or treat." The childlike voice floats down the darkened street. The sidewalks are empty, costumed youngsters long since gone home. It was far too late even for trouble-seeking teens, yet the voice was there, repeating.
"Trick or treat." The singsong words pierce his ears, a cold sweat beading on his temples. The voice is familiar; he recalls that Halloween, and the news reports about her disappearance for months after. No one had ever suspected him.
He watches a shadow approach his door, a small claw-like hand raking down the window.
"Trick or treat," it demands in a hollow rasp.
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alt="Mixed Fortunes by Liam Hogan"
class="motion-reduce"
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width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Fly by Deborah Tapper"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Boneyard by Pauline Barmby"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Late Night Cleaning Crew by Michelle Brett"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>