This is what the note read. The note taped on the knife that was stabbed into the
jack-o-lantern. The teen boy who read this particular note snorted and kicked the carved
pumpkin into the bushes.
"Those guys are morons, thinking that they could scare me," he said, shaking his head.
He made his way back into the house and slammed the door behind him. As he walked down the
hall of his large home and into his bedroom, he felt a draft. His window was open. Another
knife, a steak knife, was stuck into the wood frame with a piece of paper.
Another one-word message.
"These guys really need to think of something better than this," he yanked the knife
from the frame, it was covered in a black liquid, and threw it out the window into the
night. He lay down on his overly-large bed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again,
he found one last message, written in red paint on his ceiling.
No knife was attatched. Something orange caught his eye. He felt hot. He began to
The door and window sill were on fire. Both exits from the room were covered in
The boy began to panic as he jumped from his bed. He didn't dare go near the embers.
"Help! HELP!" He screamed. The flames began to spread toward the center of the room.
"Somebody get me out of here!"
No one answered his calls. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure in the
"Hey, get some help!" he ordered. The figure did not move. At closer examination, the
boy saw that it was a girl. A girl he knew from school. "Why are you..." his feat began to
hurt. He looked down. The fire had reached him, and licked his feet. The flames began to
move up and scorch his legs. "HELP ME!" Still, the girl never moved except once. To look
up, stare straight into his eyes, and smile. The boys eyes widened as he was engulfed, and
his screams stopped.
The girl's grin faltered as she looked once more at the boy's remains. She whispered
one final sentence:
"At least I gave you a warning." Trailing her fingers across the burn on her arm, she
escaped out the window in the hallway, careful not to trail any ash on her shoes.
A/N: Just tell me what you think. This is a possible start to a story I'm writing.