The night was full of terrible things, shrouded creatures with dagger-sharp teeth and ghostly beings that seemed to float on air, their sneaker-clad feet hidden under long white sheets pilfered from linen closets all over town.
The creatures moved quickly, freely; the night belonged to them.
It was Halloween, and the quaint mountain town of Cedar Valley, Colorado, held more than tricks and treats. There was a dark energy, a dark spirit, summoned from the past that moved through the roaming packs of shrieking children.
No one saw it, of course, or likely even felt it. We lead self-absorbed lives, after all; we rarely notice when forces of darkness crouch in our shadows.
It was only later that I would be able to name the energy; name it, know it for what it was, and direct my rage and grief at it in equal parts.
It was evil, and it had crept into our town unannounced and unwelcome, though not unexpected. Towns, villages … they’re living things, and like attracts like.
We had summoned the evil to our town just as surely as if we’d mailed an invitation. We just didn’t know it yet, and by the time we did know it, the damage would already be done.
People would be killed.
Lives would be changed.
And Cedar Valley would never be the same again.