They burned a witch in Bingham Square

Last Friday afternoon.

-Witch-Burning, Mary Elizabeth Counselman, 1936.

They said, some monsters never learn.

They said, magic doesn't exist.

They said...

A flash of black took away my attention and snapped me back to reality. "Hey, watch it!" I yelped at a kid wearing a black cloak pedaling on his bike as I crossed the street. The kid grinned sheepishly at me as he pedaled away.

I sighed as I kept on walking. Why monsters? Why magic? They weren't the things that would normally cross my mind, really. Except, well, of course, there had to be the whole Halloween thing. Costumes everywhere, monsters here, ghosts there...but then again there were the witches and wizards, too. Honestly, the witchcraft theme was always so overdone.

I wasn't really paying attention to the black robe almost everyone was wearing as I walked along the sidewalk. In this nowhere town of Calamity, Oregon, it was almost a yearly sight. Why the founders of the town named this place Calamity, I would never know. Maybe it was because when the explorers, pioneers, and missionaries first came to this land, a mysterious Native American tribe was living here and casted a curse upon them, befalling each and every one of them with different personal calamities. At least that's the rumor around. In turn, the members of the tribe were hunted down to extinction and their belongings and artifacts were burned to ashes by the settlers because they thought it would lift the curse from them.

It didn't.

Well, they said that some Holy Water finally did the trick; they even baptized the land, as well. At least that's what the local church said and how they came to be pretty famous around.

I finally arrived home after running some errands. I had graduated from high school alright, but it wasn't uncommon for kids from Calamity to go to college late. We took care of our own businesses first, and usually, only about half of each generation actually left for the big cities to study. Besides, it was a small town. A small town like this would be pretty boring for people from big cities. The fact that the internet worked here was a miracle.

Technology wasn't the most favored thing here. Maybe because of this old urban myth that a genius, tech-savvy witch used to live here back in the colonial era. How the witch eluded the holiness of a baptized land, I had no idea. She resided and began collecting slaves. They said she was secretly rich.

Screams were making blanket every night in town when she lived here. What she did to her slaves, the people could only question. Allegations that she was a witch were of course deniable - she was as knowledgeable as a priest by then, and could evade any attempt to prove that she was a witch. So, in desperation to get rid of her, the townspeople finally turned against her with the charges of disturbing the social order.

The nightly screams were pretty scary. With the cursed history of the land, the people didn't need any more supernatural creep lurking among them.

That was when the townspeople warranted a search into her house. That was when she began to panic.

It was as if her house rejected the townspeople who entered: everything flew about in a poltergeist-like chaos. The priests got hold of her and began praying and spraying Holy Water. This time, she wasn't on her human guise and began screaming in pain.

Then they opened up her basement to see where the screams came from.

What they saw was too revolting for any human being, they shut the basement again at once.

The house stood still, just a few blocks away from my house. No one dared coming near that house again. The basement, they said, was still unchanged as the moment they left it. But after the witch was burned at stake, the screams stopped.

No one knew what was going on under there.

It gave me the creeps. Every single Halloween here in Calamity, eighteen year-olds would sneak into the house. Just for one night of good scare. It was probably some sort of a dare at first, but now it came off as some ritual. Boys who were eighteen as of Halloween night must go spend the night in the Witch House.

None of them came out the same after that.

Not that their personalities changed, but they became so sensitive to everything around them - the slightest sounds could scare them like shushed cats. They almost immediately paled, screamed, and looked around with wide-eyed paranoia. Most of them needed psychiatric help after their turn in the House - although lately, most of the psychologists were Witch House veterans themselves.

The urban legend, plus this yearly incident, made witchcraft a famous Halloween theme in Calamity. And ever since Harry Potter was out, everyone was wearing black cloaks and striped shawls. Iconic tourist traps were built, celebrating the witchcraft imagery, selling weird stuff they picked up from garbage bags, rivaling the fame of the local church.

Huh. Was that ironic or what?

Problem was: I turned eighteen last month, which meant the kids at school would try to invite me along to go to the Witch House this year.

No, I didn't want to. But no, I wouldn't have any other choice. It was some sort of a tradition by then - no matter how wimpy you are, when you're tagged, you come along. It wasn't the wisest tradition, but really, in Calamity, your whole life depended on it. Whatever happened the night you got tagged would determine where your life would go in this calamitous town.

"I'm home," I said as I entered.

For eighteen years of living, I was raised by Amanda and Jack. Hmm, it felt weird calling them that. I was so used to calling them Mom and Dad until last year. Apparently their idea of a seventeenth birthday gift was to inform me that I was adopted - and they weren't kidding. I kind of hoped that it was just some sort of a mean birthday joke, but they didn't negate it the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. I could even see every morning that their eyes reddened. They actually cried loads over those nights. So did I - I mean, come on. Seventeen years of thinking that they were your parents and one night to shatter it all. Sure, I knew that they actually did love me. And no, I never doubted that. But to know that Mom - Amanda, whatever - couldn't conceive and just suddenly received a baby out her doorstep one night with no letters whatsoever? That was quite disturbing.

No letters of information. No traces at all. Amanda showed me the basket and blankets she found me in - there were no fingerprints (she managed to persuade Jack a few years back to try and run a personal check - nothing there).

I'd forgiven them just a few weeks ago. I couldn't bear it. They finally broke down crying in front of me and it was a huge group hug that lasted overnight until we all woke up in the morning all entwined and emotionally drained.

The days after that went normally, but I'd asked Amanda if I could try and seek where I actually came from. She gave me her blessing.

"Hi!" Amanda's voice greeted from the kitchen. She was just one doorframe away from the front door. "You got those groceries?"

I entered the kitchen and put my bag down on the table. Unzipping it, a pumpkin rolled out and a plastic bag could be seen in there. "Sure. Are we making Jack-o-Lanterns?"

Amanda smiled warmly. "Of course, it's Halloween!"

She handed the carving knife over, but I put it on the table. "I'll go get changed."

I left to my room.

//

"Hey guys, he's in!"

My vision was a little bit hazy as I began walking to the Witch House with a few other eighteen-year-olds from my school - namely Mark, Rhodes, and Cora. I didn't even know why Cora tagged along, girls weren't obliged to do this. Perhaps Mark and Rhodes just knew the buttons to push on her.

The three cheered as I joined their line and we marched on. It was dark and should be past the normal bedtime - thank goodness there's no curfew here - but the streetlights were on, and pretty brightly at that as well.

"Thought you'd never come," Cora remarked. For a girl her age, she looked pretty childish. Her face was almost round, her cheeks looked almost as chubby as when she was a kid - even her posture was reminiscent of a thirteen year-old's. But her black tank-top, silver necklace, bone-gray bracelet, three desert-camo mini pouches around her belt, short cargo pants, and black short boots were enough for her to give anyone a shadowy sense of intimidation. Not to mention her entirely black hair - like me, she was one of few around here who had black hair. She cut it short, just about a little over shoulder-length, and let it loose. I'd seen her tie them up, but only when she felt nervous or when she's doing sports.

I still couldn't believe myself for accepting their invitation to the Witch House. "I thought so, too," I told Cora. "But my whole life depends on this. At least as long as I stay in this place."

Cora laughed. "Boys. When will you stop being so silly?"

"Offense taken, Cora. I don't see the point of the whole Witch House ritual either, but if I don't do this, my life is done for because I'm pretty sure I won't be leaving Calamity anytime soon. So I'm just trying to make the wise choice here." I was telling the truth. There were a total of three men still living here who'd never come anywhere near the Witch House, all three unemployed because no one would take them in. I had no idea how people could be so terrible. It was just a freaking old house. "Speaking of which, why are you coming, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I have nothing better to do."

Of course. It's a small town. You get bored the first two years of your life here.

"You guys - you guys think it's real?" Mark asked us. I shrugged.

"Never gone near there. Had no business."

"I've heard some really creepy stories," Cora said. "But I can't be sure. But believe me, I'd seen some weird things myself. If there were anything there - or if there are - I wouldn't wonder."

"Weird things?" Mark raised his eyebrows. "Do tell."

Cora's expression turned grim. "It's something you'd prefer not hearing before going to stay overnight in the Witch House."

We told our parents that we'd be having a sleepover at a friend's. Well, the 'friend' was actually this group of guys who were serious about the whole Witch House thing, but of course our parents already knew that - chances were our parents were Witch House alums themselves. Do you know one of those moments when you and your friends discovered something fun and decided to organize it, and it ended up being an organized group? These people were some of those guys. They would arrange everything and one of them would come with us in case our parents want to talk to us. And yes, this one's been to the House before. Usually these guys were the ones who had overcome their trauma.

That actually sounded amazing. Most people didn't overcome them, and usually those who had gone to the House talked about it in a very grim manner.

When we got near the House, we realized that the number of working streetlights was lessening - a lot. It was going to be troublesome if anything happened.

"Flashlights," Mark said as he turned on his flashlights. Lifesaver.

"Were they darkened on purpose?" Rhodes hopefully asked. I could feel that he was getting nervous - the Witch House was coming to sight.

Nobody answered him.

Across the street from the house, I could see someone. He was at first nothing more than a silhouette, but as we got closer, I could see that he was Brody. He graduated high school years ago.

"Mark?" he called as he read a list on his phone. "Rhodes? Cora? And... Alden?"

"That's me," I raised a hand. Brody nodded.

"You're going to get midnight shifts. Lucky you," he snorted. "Midnight shifts are usually the creepiest. You get to do this with three others already in the waiting list - Cody, Zoey, and Eileen - and you have one hour starting from when the clock strikes twelve."

"That's still, like, three hours to go," Rhodes protested. "Where do we wait?"

Brody grinned. "Why, of course, our Halloween party!"

Mark and Rhodes cheered as Brody led us all to the 'waiting space'.

"Great," Cora sighed. "Parties."

Well said, Cora. I hate parties, too.

//

Unsurprisingly, most of the people in the party were wearing black cloaks or witch hats.

I could easily spot Cody and Eileen - who were going to be our fellows in our dare shift - in the middle of the party. Huh. Popular kids. It's not that I hold anything against them, but really, I always wondered how people like them could always find someone to talk to or something to talk about or even anything to do at all in parties like this.

"Don't stand out in the corner, Alden," a voice said to me. "That's not healthy for your social instincts."

It was Zoey, who was also going to be in my shift. Zoey was Cora's identical twin sister, except that Cora had a definitely darker presence than Zoey. I wasn't sure; it was probably because Cora really liked wearing black attire while Zoey was willing to be a bit more creative. She had an eye for colors - whatever colors she wore always seemed to please the eyes. Cora, on the other hand, had her own way with the monochromes - whatever she wore, no matter how full of the color black, actually had its own form of beauty.

"What if I tell you that I don't have one?" I asked back, automatically smiling. I was never particularly close to anyone, but Zoey and Cora knew what it was like to be weird, so at least I knew I could trust them. Besides, not that we ever mentioned it to anyone, but Zoey used to be my prom date back in middle school. It wasn't that we were dating or anything, but ever since the embarrassing back-story that made me the less-than-social kind of person I became (it's for later, it's kind of a long story), I didn't exactly have too many friends, and Zoey and Cora were among the few who stuck around.

Zoey was just getting popular about then - more popular than her gloomier twin - but she wasn't in the mood for accepting dates or anything. So in the end, we went to the prom without any dates and any friends to accompany us at all. It was a pretty weird sentimental moment, and maybe us being lonely had something to do with it, but we finally decided to just get on with it. We were pretty tight since.

Zoey laughed. "As if, Al! What are you doing now, then? Talking to me, that's what. You're socializing, look at that!"

"One person is enough social interaction for one party," I said, and Zoey nodded.

"I know how you feel," she said against the loud music. "And I know you won't be comfortable trying to blend in. But seriously, don't keep your butt to yourself. Go, hang around. Want a drink?"

"No, thanks," I said, and she left. A mummy passed by with big orange headphones around his neck, and I had to refrain myself from thinking any inappropriate thoughts just in case the Pharaohs' curse was real.

Most of the athletes of my school - that's the only high school in Calamity, thank you - were only wearing torn-up shirts that showed their muscles with equally torn black shorts. Some of them wore fake fangs. Vampires, I tried to guess. Freaking pop culture - what have they done to the undead, vengeance-wreaking, sadistic vampires of the old days? These creatures didn't deserve this kind of justification. I had researched a bit on vampires, and nothing there seemed to reminisce what pop culture said this last decade. Vampires were actually revenants, cursed people who came back to life; they're essentially zombies. Except, putting aside the fact that zombies themselves were originally not that kind of undead but were dead people cursed with voodoo, vampires' sole reason for coming back was because they practiced magic so foul in their lifetime that even hell decided against accepting them.

And here's the twist ending - when a werewolf died improperly, due to his curse, there's a likely chance he'd revive as a vampire.

Vampires and werewolves were the same people, just in different stages of life - and death, in that matter.

They weren't at war.

Werewolves were still basically human until they transform, so they could theoretically still fall in love. A vampire, however? And it would be even weirder when you look at it through the living's point of view. Really, having the hots for a zombie? Is that healthy? Let alone healthy, is that even legal? Wouldn't that fall into the category of necrophilia - you know, passionate attraction towards dead bodies?

I shook my head as another 'vampire' passed by. It wasn't that anyone here were bullies, but you could see the invisible wall that limited the 'cool guys' and the 'nerds' pretty clearly. The cool guys were kind, really, and tolerant. But that's that. Not bullies, but not necessarily friends either. At least outside of the online social media.

And guess which side I was in? Exactly.

Well, it was (unbelievably already) half past nine. That made it two and a half hours until I could get my hour in the Witch House. Cora and Zoey were in the middle of a modest catfight about something. A girl with very minimal costume - I'd say maybe a devil, or a succubus? - walked by, offering a little naughty wink at me. I might be somewhat asocial, but I wasn't that kind of nerd who gets frozen solid anywhere near girls, so I just nodded at her with a small smile. Not long after that, our quarterback - another vampire - came to her and offered her a drink which, of course, she didn't refuse. The mummy with the headphones was nowhere in sight.

The music turned grimmer. Still rock metal, and still melodically acceptable without any hardcore screamo, but the nuance was definitely grimmer. It wasn't the big meet-everyone-and-laugh-with-them party anymore. It was beginning to grow into a Halloween party.

From the props and everything - food, drinks - I could judge that this party wasn't just any Halloween party. For this town's levels, it was actually pretty loaded. That cake I ate didn't taste cheap. The drink I took wasn't, either - there were two bowls of equally alluring wines, one alcoholic and the other not so much. I was never a drinker and my top choice of a beverage was never wine, so I couldn't really tell, but I dare bet my bottom dollars that these wines weren't cheap.

Not to mention the tables. The décor. The sound systems...

And suddenly big Jack-o-Lanterns swung in from the walls, accompanied by a diabolical laugh from the stereos, pleasantly surprising everyone.

And the Jack-o-Lanterns. This was definitely not a cheap party.

Half to ten. I had a long time before my shift would even start...

//

The party went on like a blur. I saw some interesting things every once in a while (including that succubus flashing me another wink), but that's that. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Brody called me.

"Where's Eileen - Eileen! Hey, EILEEN! It's your turn, sweets. Move it."

"Bite me," I murmured. Brody ignored it.

He ushered me and Eileen outside. Eileen was one of those popular girls, and yes, she was sometimes shallow. Take a look at her Twitter timeline, for instance - you'd find a lot of quotes in there. I wondered if those quotes were from random word generators, because honestly, no matter how many favorites and retweets she got, really, they're empty.

Take this one for example: the world is beyond intricate mortality. I mean, what's the point? Of course the world is beyond mortality. Duh. The world's been around thirteen point seven billion years before we even got here. The world doesn't need us. We need the world.

And she got 21 retweets and 15 favorites for that. Society is weird.

Not that Eileen's not attractive - her hair was perfect, and she knew just how to wear makeups that she didn't seem like she was wearing any at all (I think it's the technique they call 'natural'...? How could it be natural if it wasn't natural? Girls just totally don't make sense). And her smile was honestly the kind of smile that would grant you a friendship with her during your first five minutes interacting with her. But if I may be honest, she wasn't really the kind of girl I'd be interested in.

But hey - I'm just a helpless nerd, so you are completely eligible to question my tastes.

We gathered around. The others were already there - Cody was talking with Mark and Rhodes, while Zoey and Cora still looked a little upset. Probably from their fight two and a half hours ago, but I couldn't really tell.

"We'll wait until Graham comes out with the previous group," Brody said, sounding bored. But I could see the flicker in his eyes. He was preparing for something. "Then we go in."

I realized that although he'd been doing this for a while - seeing his age, probably two or three Halloweens - he still felt some scare about going back into the Witch House. There's no blaming him, though - that house was creepy.

Remember that witch story I told about how the witchcraft theme became so popular in Calamity? Well, this house was the evidence that supported that story. Whether or not the owner was a real witch was unknown, and what she did with the slaves in her basement before the townspeople locked it was unknown, as well. I'd heard from the others who'd gone in the Witch House - no one dared to go near the basement door. They said, among all the features in the house, it was the creepiest one.

The house was a good two-story old house with creaky, moldy plywood all around. A classic horror movie house, the one with a rectangular window on the top floor and a big triangular roof on one side of the house. If you see this house, even by day, you'd definitely think that this house was haunted (thank you, TV). No lights were on inside - it's not like there was any electricity in there at all. The townspeople were scared out of their pants with this house, so it was actually easy to imagine that no electrician dared nearing this house. This lack of electric service might also explain the depressingly few working streetlights.

We heard some creaks coming from the house, and everyone tensed at once. Suddenly no one dared to make a sound.

Then there were shrill screams and rapid pounding on the door.

We all jumped back, but Brody realized the situation, jolted into action, and began pulling the door from the outside.

There was a disturbing crack when the door swung open, and eight people rushed outside. They were sweating - no, wait. They were cold sweating. The expressions on their faces were pure terror - even the one on Graham's face. And he was experienced, just like Brody. Okay, there was that certain collectiveness on his face that quickly composed itself, but still, there was no mistaking the earlier expression as terror.

"Okay, Brody," he said, panting. "Clear. Just be careful if you're going upstairs - the eighth step from the bottom floor broke right in the middle."

Brody nodded nervously. "Okay, guys. In you go."

We were numb and speechless and immobile - and I suddenly realized that I was going into the Witch House.

I was going into the Witch House.

Out of nowhere, I felt the need to scream. But I swallowed it back and realized that everyone was feeling the same thing. The house looked pure evil and I could bet that it was laughing at us.

I looked around again, this time at the previous shift's kids. They weren't in good shape. They were shaking, badly. Some people had left the party to take them in.

That left Brody, me, Cora, Zoey, Eileen, Cody, Mark, and Rhodes alone in front of the Witch House.

It was our turn.

The House grinned devilishly. Wanna party?

So, with no place left to go, we walked carefully into the Witch House, and as darkness consumed us, Brody closed the creaking door shut.

//

There was absolutely nothing in sight.

But there were definitely a lot of things to hear.

As soon as Brody shut the door, suddenly I registered a small murmur coming from in front of me. No, not directly in front of me, that would've been creepy. It's far in front of me.

Who am I kidding? It's still creepy.

I could feel a chill going down my back. Something's approaching.

There was a girl's voice holding back her sobbing. Probably Eileen.

Hopefully Eileen.

As he did before, Mark was the first to turn on his flashlights.

It took a while for my eyes to readjust to register what I could see, but then the things began to make sense. Plywood floor. Table. Cupboard. A lot of broken ceramics. A small candle holder that could hold three candlesticks.

"Is this the dining room?" I asked Brody. Mark pointed his flashlights at him.

"Maybe," Brody winced. "Please stop pointing that at me."

There was a little clicking and some buzzing, and suddenly Brody's hand was glowing.

No, he was bringing something. An electric lantern.

We all let out a sigh of relief as Brody increased the light's intensity so we could light up the whole room, although it was still pretty dim.

I looked around at the others. I was right - it was Eileen crying. Zoey and Cora shared a stiff look. Cody looked nervous, while Mark was obviously shaking. I couldn't say any better for Rhodes.

That's when I realized that my hands were wet with cold sweat. And I was shaking badly.

"Well," Brody said nervously. I could tell he was trying hard to control himself. "One hour to go."

This house felt even bigger on the inside. You wouldn't expect to find several rooms separated neatly by the walls of each hall or think that each room could be pretty large. Okay, some of the rooms had the furniture removed (or, like in most rooms, broken), but still, it was surprisingly spacious.

"Wanna sit down?" Brody offered as he moved towards the dining table. We all looked at him with a weird expression. He shrugged. "I've been doing this for three years now. The dining table's fine."

We took that as an insurance that no crazy ghost would suddenly spring up on us on the dining table, or that the dining table wouldn't float and spin by itself like in some movies I'd seen. So we gathered around and took our seats. Brody put the lantern in the middle of the table.

I looked at the big doorframes that connected the rooms. There were no doors in them, so you could see right through to the room next door.

But of course, there was no light there. Just eerie darkness. I shivered and stopped glancing there.

"So are we supposed to just...wait for one hour?" Cody asked.

Brody nodded grimly. "But you won't have to wait, if that's what you fear. I don't mean to scare you guys, but usually -"

Creak.

Feeling jumpy since before we entered, we all turned almost immediately to where the noise came from. Brody's lantern was too dim to light that place up.

It was definitely the plywood creaking from some weight above it.

There's someone else here.

Creak.

Mark, who sat the nearest to where the noise came from, jumped immediately from his seat and ran over to behind Brody, who was the farthest.

The noise continued from the same place. The plywood felt a bit fragile. It was almost like whatever was making the noise was stepping towards us.

None of us dared to breathe.

Creak.

The step continued, and we all jumped and gathered around Brody in one huge mass of human flesh holding each other. Brody himself had snatched his lantern and was standing with us, his eyes wide with terror.

Hadn't he experienced this one before?

My heart sank.

What if he hadn't?

Thump.

We all gasped and took a step back. The step fell on plywood floor that probably stood above solid ground or something, so it couldn't creak.

It was coming closer.

I could even feel it coming closer.

Thump.

The step was sounding heavier. I could almost hear Eileen holding back a sob, and next to me, Zoey was shaking very badly. Cora's expression was none the better, Mark was clutching Brody's arm, and Cody and Rhodes were definitely not as manly as they were supposed to be.

And I believed that color almost literally drained off my face.

We waited in creepy silence. Seconds passed. A minute passed.

The noise stopped.

We were still holding our breaths.

Two minutes passed. No more noise was coming out.

Slowly, while uncontrollably shaking, we began to loosen our grip on everyone around us. Mark's face was white, and his arm was still stiffly around Brody's arm - was he catatonic? Hopefully not.

"Alden," Zoey tried whispering to me, although it came off as a helpless squeak. Everyone turned to her at once in shock, but as soon as they registered her as not a threat, they began to relax.

Good sign?

"Hmm?" I turned to her. She was also pale.

"You're pretty cold."

I would've laughed, but I could only manage to croak awkwardly. "I think you're grabbing me so hard my blood froze."

Zoey managed a smile. She was still shaking.

We all could finally find the strength to let go of each other. We were still trying to manage our breaths, but we were faring pretty well.

Brody dared himself to approach the source of that noise, just in case of anything. But since we couldn't afford casualties - and since Brody had the brightest source of light by far - and to avoid doing similar mistakes done in horror movies, we all came along with him.

First lesson from horror movies: if met with mystery in a closed or foreign space (or both), never, ever, wander alone.

As expected, we found nothing. We all looked around. There was nothing that could potentially make those creaks and thumps.

I sighed. This wouldn't take us anywhere.

"How long has it been?" Mark asked.

"Um," Brody said as he checked his watch. "Five minutes."

"What?" Eileen shrieked. "All that, and - and - five minutes?"

When I thought about it, it actually made sense. We hadn't done anything yet. We'd only encountered stepping sounds, nothing more.

Well - it was going to be a long night, then.