Saturday , May 18 2024
Halloween short story

Halloween Dance Thriller

The club at the techno joint was packed for the Halloween party. The d.j. was rocking. The crowd was dancing.

As the tempo increased there were more heads nodding than Republicans at a George Bush rally.

There was little to see in the dimly lit venue and nothing exciting visible. Every few minutes someone would light a cigarette and their face could be seen briefly in the flash.

As I scanned the crowd I recognized a movie star lighting a cig. Couldn’t recall the guy’s name, but he was in Pulp Fiction or Reservoir Dogs.

A few minutes later, like a firefly, another cigarette was lit, another face illuminated. This time it was someone trying to move across the dance floor.

As the cigarette ignited and just a second before the lighter was clicked off and returned to the man’s pocket, I saw something behind him. It looked like a metal object being removed from a woman’s suit jacket pocket. The metal glinted slightly but it was dulled by the surrounding shadows of other dancers.

Now, curious, I scanned the crowd, anxious for more clarification for my adrenaline-filled mind. Then someone else lit what looked more like a joint than a cigarette. Again I saw the woman with what now looked very much like a gun and it was being pointed in the direction of the actor, who I now recalled was also shot in the movie I saw.

I screamed. It seemed a natural response and a good way to garner help. However, the crowd screamed too and then begin singing in chorus with the techno artist now on stage: “insane, insane, insane.”

The tempo picked up still more as the drummer began pounding down a heavy beat and someone started fooling with a sampler and drum machine to create new sounds. Among the sounds was one that sounded like it came from the dance floor, not the stage, but for a minute or two nobody seemed to notice.

And then I heard a man scream. Again the crowd picked that up as a cue and screamed also. But then the man’s screamed transformed into a wail and a cry and the crowd became more quiet and curious.

The lights did not come back up but a person than asked over the public address system for everyone to leave immediately. The singer looked pissed.

I scanned the newspaper today but did not see anything about the violence. But I have a strong suspicion that I will read tomorrow about the world having one less actor.

I hate Halloween.

About Scott Butki

Scott Butki was a newspaper reporter for more than 10 years before making a career change into education... then into special education. He has been working in mental health for the last ten years. He lives in Austin. He reads at least 50 books a year and has about 15 author interviews each year and, yes, unlike tv hosts he actually reads each one. He is an in-house media critic, a recovering Tetris addict and a proud uncle. He has written articles on practically all topics from zoos to apples and almost everything in between.

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