The Many Works of Pat Hatt
October 10, 2016
I had narrowly missed killing a young boy in a Frankenstein costume. My jittery, frail hands unable to deal with the kickback of my father’s pistol. My silent prayer must have been received as my mishap was mistaken for a firecracker and no one was hurt. It was the first time in recent memory that I was thankful for old age. I had never killed anyone during the past forty-eight years of hunting the Halloween Murderer down. This year I was determined to end the cycle which left me on edge, a fact I’m not proud of. But if the cops wouldn’t do anything, this crazy old bat would. He had taken my father and husband from me. They hadn’t run off like the cops said. He had killed them on Halloween starting with my father. The forty-seven other men hadn’t run away on their wives either. No bodies found doesn’t mean this killer wasn’t out there.
I narrowed his hunting ground down to the town carnival. All of his victims had come through there during Halloween night. He was a clever killer, saving his urge for when his disguise wouldn’t be discovered. But even the most clever criminal slips up. After fully vetting them, I had taken every last cent I had to bribe the carnival crew into all wearing the same costume. He would stick out like a sore thumb because few parents ever dressed up when attending.
After cozying up to Stan, the head of security, I snatched his keys, giving me full access to the place. The night before I had broken into the fun house and Halloween maze. I destroyed them, figuring that preventing another murder was worth a few distraught faces. All the other rides and games were out in the open. There was no way he could strike at the carnival without me noticing from my perch atop the town water tower. I settled in as the night dragged on, keeping my itchy trigger finger off my pistol.
The cheerful cries of children at play reminded me of the family I always wanted but never got to have with my late husband. He was the only man I had ever loved and ever will. The only emotion eclipsing such love was my hate for the man who took him from me. A hate I let fester as the night dragged on.
I took notice of a shooting star overhead as the carnival began to close down. Soon the light of the full moon and stars was all that guided my sight. I was beginning to think my plan had worked too well until I saw it. One of the staff was being lured away by a hooded figure. I had no shot so I climbed down the ladder as fast as these old bones could take me. I shuffled across the carnival grounds and his victim’s screams pierced my very soul. I clutched my pistol and jumped out from behind a game stand, aiming it at the figure’s head. He was bent down and sucking the very life out of the poor worker.
I screamed for him to freeze but he ignored me and then tapped the bones with his finger, turning them to dust. I fired every round I had left into him and they went right through. He turned around, revealing only a darkness where his face should have been. I was too old to be scared of such a presence and began screaming obscenities at him, demanding answers. That is when he started to glow as bright as that shooting star I had seen earlier.
He threw his hood back and nearly blinded me with the light shining forth. The glow subsided and finally I had come face to face with the Halloween Murderer, whose figure and words blew any theory I had created over the years away. He turned out to actually be a she. A she that looked like a Playboy model mixed with the style of some bimbo from ancient times. Again I demanded answers and then her cheeks puffed up with a disgusting grin.
Her name was Cassiopeia and she had been placed in the sky by Poseidon after fifty sea nymphs demanded she be punished for boasting about her beauty. She went on to explain how she needed to consume fifty loving men in order to free herself from Poseidon’s trap in the sky, a representation of the lovers each sea nymph had taken. Her only reason for choosing my town and my husband and father was that is was convenient and they cared too much. That got my blood boiling and I snatched up the hammer from that strong man game and, with strength I never knew I had, I reached it above my head, ready to bash her brains in.
I swung at her gaining a single moment of pleasure as she burst into stars before me. But the moment faded as she reformed. She cackled and told me how she liked my spirit. She further insulted me by saying I could be her if I wasn’t so old and ugly. She then showed me the final piece that would unlock her from Poseidon’s grasp. With a wave of her hand her starlight drained from her and into me. I then shot up into the sky, becoming a shooting star that you may have seen that Halloween night.
The last thing I heard of my time on Earth was her dreaded cackling. And here I remain, a constellation in the stars named after the woman who killed my father and husband. My only chance at vengeance being my willingness to kill fifty men over fifty years when the moon is bright on all Hallows Eve night. Is my pain worth causing other families such heart ache? That is what I have until next Halloween to figure out.
And there we are. I mixed the two. Got an idea and away I went with both themes. Turn out good? Turn out bad? Feel free to judge away at my pad.
Enjoy life, forget the strife.