HALLOWEEN 1997

The night of children dressing up was their favorite superhero characters and the scariest thing they could think you; pulling old sheets out and cutting holes in them.

You decided to opt out this year, letting your little brother go trick or treating with your parents.

You were 18. No one goes trick or treating at this age. It’s social suic*de. And the parties your school threw were mediocre at most.

As you search for some food left in the refrigerator, the house phone rings, catching your attention.

“Hello? Is this Sheriff’s department?” An ominous voice speaks up.