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A story to get you in the Halloween mood.

It could have been anyone.
And in a dream of terror, Bobby Terry again heard Flagg saying : I want to send him back undamaged.
Holy God, this could be anyone. It was as if he had set out to deliberately do just the opposite of what the Walkin Dude had ordered. Two direct hits to the face. Even the teeth were gone.
Rain, drumming, drumming.
It was over here. That was all. He didn't dare go east, and he didn't dare stay in the West. He would either wind up riding a telephone pole bareback or... or something worse.
Were there worse things?
With that grinning freak in charge, Bobby Terry had no doubt there was. So what was the answer?
Running his hands through his hair, still looking down at the ruined face of the Judge, he tried to think.
South. THat was the answer. South. No border guards anymore. South to Mexico, and if that wasn't far enough, get on down to Guatemala, Panama, maybe ******** Brazil. Opt out of the whole mess. No more East, no more West, just Bobby Terry, safe and as far away from the Walkin Dude as his old boogie shoes could carry h-
A new sound in the rainy afternoon.
Bobby Terry's head jerked up.
The rain, yes, making its steel drum sound on the cabs of tthe two vehicles, and the grumbling of two idling motors, and-
A strange clocking sound, like rundown bootheels hammering softly along the secondary road macadam.
"No," Bobby Terry whispered.
He began to turn around.
The clocking sound was speeding up. A fast walk, a trot, a jog, run, sprint, and Bobby Terry got all the way around, too late, he was coming, Flagg was coming like some terrible horror monster out of the scariest picture ever made. The dark man's cheeks were flushed with jolly color, his eyes were twinkling with happy good fellowship, and a great hungry voracious grin stretched his lips over huge tombstone teeth, shark teeth, and his hands were held out in front of him, and there were shiny black crowfeathers fluttering from his hair.
No. Bobby Terry tried to say, but nothing came out.
"HEY, BOBBY TERRY, YOU SCROOOOWED IT UP!" the dark man bellowed, and fell upon the hapless Bobby Terry.
There were worse things that crucifixion.
There were teeth.

From Stephen King's The Stand.

Sorry. I am just trying to get everybody in the mood for the season. I can't make it to that zombie walk because the makeup is more expensive than I thought. I have to be scary through words rather than actions.

It's like, 30 dollars for a thing of liquid latex. What is up with that? And nobody, not even the special stores around here had any wound stack or nose putty.

None of my friends are going either. We could have afforded the costumes if they would have pitched in, but they wanted me to make everything. We are going to do something else together that night instead.

Well I hope you have fun with whatever you end up doing instead.

Look what I found!

It's like free rice, but with water, and geography. I suck at it way worse than I do freerice because geography is not my thing, but hey it is for charity!

That's disgusting!