The full moon peeked it's head above the mountain top beginning it's monthly illumination of the valley, climbing slowly upward like some regal monarch ascending a throne, ruling over all that belong to the night. The lunar luminescence of this lesser heavenly body spreads upon it's subjects, the trees, casting eery shadows upon the ground. One's imagination could run wild on a night like this, spawning horrific images within, that if left un-checked, could induce anxiety and panic in an individual.
It had taken many years of therapy and psychotropic medications to bring Jim to a level of functioning that would allow him to adequately cope with the demons that haunted him each year. All Hallows Eve had always sent him into a place so dark and lonely that nothing could quiet his tortured soul. His annual ritual for this pagan celebration was much different than the other children he grew up with. Jim always spent this night locked in a psych hospital, heavily sedated. His parents had no explanations to give to the medical staff, only that it began when he was 4 years old and got worse each year, and only on Halloween.
As he reached adulthood, his fears gradually subsided but never fully vanished. No longer did he require the obligatory hospitalization that he knew throughout his childhood. Now that he had his own child, he didn't want him to suffer the same fate that he had suffered all those years. This was the year. He finally felt well enough to take his now 4 year old child out for trick or treat. As his wife readied their child for the foray into the neighborhood, he sat on the edge of their bed, practicing breathing techniques preparing for the battle he would face.
The moon, now standing fully visible in the sky, stared back at Jim as he waited on the porch for his wife and child to emerge from the house. A small group of children approached him adorned in their disguises; "trick or treat" they exclaimed. Jim reached in the front door producing a large bowl of assorted candies. The children rummaged through the bowl taking what they found to their liking. "Thank you" and off they went to the next house. Jim ventured off the porch pacing back and forth on the sidewalk in front of his domicile.
A mosquito began buzzing around his head. He swatted at this pest creating a whirl of wind around it but failing to deter it from it's desire to have it's evening meal at Jim's expense. Suddenly as if from out of nowhere, a bat had picked up on the signal of the mosi and swooped in for a take out meal at the expense of the parasite that hummed in front of Jim's face. The wing of the flying mammal slapped him in the face as it snapped up the mosquito and then quickly retreated, leaving Jim short one heartbeat and breathless. Determined to finally extricate himself from his life long incarceration, he managed to regain his composure. He glanced at his watch, noticing that it had only been 3 minutes since stepping out of the house, but feeling as if it had already been an eternity.
As his heart beat and breathing returned to normal, he stood on the sidewalk contemplating how best to proceed with the plan to finally overcome his curse. Another mosquito found it's way to Jim, this one landing on his arm. Becoming suddenly aware of the sting from the poking of a miniature hypodermic needle attached to the insect, he slapped it, leaving blood splattered on his forearm. Almost as if a scent had been released into the air much like the effect of a shark bite creating notification to other sharks in the area that soup's on, a nearby swarm of mosquitoes heard the cry of sustenance and made their way to the new found smorgasbord.
One by one thousands of mosquitoes had their way with Jim's exposed epidermis, poking and prodding at him like some 15 year old boy trying to cop his first feel. Un-sated from it's amuse bouche, the bat hears the squabble that has ensued, making it's way back to the melee between Jim and the mosquitoes. Not only the assailant from the previous drive by, but now his cronies have notified one another through sonar, that the feast is on.
Squeals of excitement exude through the night air like some animalistic dinner bell, creating a frenzy of activity around the man. Swooping in upon their prey, the hunter has now become the hunted. Mosquito feasting upon it's quarry, only to become the meal of a larger, faster predator.
A chunk of flesh gets ripped from his ear where a dozen mosquitoes had set up drilling, only to become the main course along with the flesh of man.
Horrified and paralyzed Jim cowers into a fetal position, unable to release the scream that has built up inside. He has been overcome by a collage of insects and mammals that have now piece by piece begun to shred his exposed arms and face. Terrestrial pirranah's devouring, gorging themselves upon a once in a life time menu. His eyes clench tightly, but to no avail as the bats make short work of this tender flesh, leaving his eye balls exposed forcing him to watch this horror, yet being unable to fight back.
Mustering every ounce of will that remains within, he manages to expel the remaining air in his lungs to create a scream that would make one's skin crawl if heard. Startled by this intense and horrific sound his wife wakes from her slumber, shaking Jim to arouse him from the nightmare that had him trapped. Jim sits up in his bed, soaking wet from the drops of sweat that have permeated through his pajamas, breathing heavily trying to gather his wits. "You must have been dreaming again honey" his wife consoles. A single mosquito buzzes it's way around the bedroom lighting upon his exposed arm. Feeling the sting of the miniature hypodermic needle piercing his skin, he quickly swats at it, leaving blood splattered upon his arm. "Get some rest honey, tonight is Halloween"
matters worse I checked out the website and I'll be damned if they aren't selling merchandise. Oh I realize that merchandising is the sweetest nugget when it comes to this sort of thing, but seriously people. A key chain with one of these zombified homo sapiens? 
matters worse I checked out the website and I'll be damned if they aren't selling merchandise. Oh I realize that merchandising is the sweetest nugget when it comes to this sort of thing, but seriously people. A key chain with one of these zombified homo sapiens? 
