Mischief Night
There were rattle cans, toilet paper, and silly string tucked away in the backpack they slung over their shoulder. They were aiming to misbehave, and this was the one night of the year where it was nearly expected.
They met up with a good friend and headed downtown where the best action was.
Their friend had a wicked glint in their eyes. “What’s the plan?” he said. “Should we make it three for three tonight?”
“You bet!” they said. “ Peeling paint and bare trees? Let’s go to the Witch’s House!”
“It’s going to be the best year yet!” he said. “I can’t believe people are scared to go. It’s just spooky stories.”
They chatted as they headed deeper into the heart of the city. They were so engrossed in their plans that they didn’t see the dark figure slip out of the shadows as apartment blocks melted into stately old homes.
The figure followed them and waited in the dense, overgrown trees as they approached the Witch’s House.
It steepled his fingers and eagerly awaited the mischief makers next move.
These mischief makers unburdened themselves of their packs and stood back from the house so they could decide exactly where they wanted to start.
“I’ve got the paint,” they said thrusting rolls of toilet paper into their friend’s waiting hands.
“I’ve been practicing just for tonight,” he said. “I just hope we enough!”
“We always do,” they said. Paint cans rattled as they ran to the nearest window.
A wall of dark flame rushed toward the mischief makers, and the figure revealed itself to them. A clap of thunder followed it and toilet paper and cans dropped to the ground. They were paralyzed with ancient power and fear.
“Foolish mortals,” it said. “Mischief is allowed tonight and again you choose the one place that is protected. You were warned in years past. Still, you transgressed. Now you shall pay!”
The fire roared and consumed the mischief makers as they screamed.
Three times they sought to vandalize the Witch’s house, and three was one too many!
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