Halloween Bleach Novels & Stories

Kimberly stepped forward. "It's about the Halloween dance." She was tall with curly blond hair. Her lips where painted red, but she wore no other makeup. "Oh?" I shuffled around some papers on my desk, waiting for them to go on. The last two years, on October thirty-first, the ballroom was transformed into something out of a scary movie with blood spatter on the walls, cobwebs dangling from the ceiling, eyeballs floating in the punch bowl, and ghosts flitting around the frigid air.

Knowing I had a couple of minute ,I ducked into the ladies room and gave myself a brief once over in the mirror. It was Halloween, and I had fully dressed the part; going with the all out goth appearance I usually reserved for the clubs and my art exhibits. I had straightened my normally curly jet black hair, so that it now hung down to my waist, and besides my deep red lipstick the only make up I was wearing was heavy black eye shadow and eye liner which served to further accentuate my Ivory -or as I liked to think of it at this time of year- ghostly complexion. The dark eye makeup also called attention to one of if not my best feature; my all but transparent crystal blue eyes.

And with that I went off to my next class. In the hall before I got to class however, I noticed Henry. He had a black eye, what looked to be a broken nose, and his arm was in a sling. He looked as if he got into a fight just recently, and it must have been brutal because werewolves healed ridiculously fast generally. I wondered if it had anything to do with Lily and the altercation from yesterday that I intervened in. I walked into class and looked directly at Rose. There was still a moment before class began. I sat down, once again right by her, and did something I had never done before. I mindlinked her.

⁠ I⁠ tied a‍ rag around‍ my face like a mask. I po​ured b‍l⁠each on t⁠he floor.⁠ I​ poured bleach‌ on the walls. The s​mell was overp‍ower⁠ing, ch‍emica‍l and sha‍rp‌.​ It burned my‌ e⁠yes, but I lov‍e‍d‌ it. It smelle‌d⁠ like purity. ‍I scrubbed the c‍oncrete⁠ on my h‍ands an⁠d‌ knee​s.⁠ I scrubbed the toilet‌. I s⁠crubbed the s‍ink.

I made my way between the cars towards the back of the building. “You know this is a special night, don’t you?” Wisps of fake fog curled and puffed off the stage as he strutted back and forth. “Halloween. All Hallows? I can tell ya it means a lot more than just stuffing fun-size Snickers in your face. Tonight’s the night the world of the dead overlaps with the world of the living. That means if you’re ever going to see a ghost, tonight’s your night!

Sweat trickled down his face as the rattling stopped. Eliseo waited, but there was no sound. He placed both hands on the door carefully and listened. He couldn’t hear anything. With a deep breath, he unlocked the door and opened it very slowly. Halloween Night, 1992 The lights were bright in this neighborhood, and the decorations were amazing. One house went all out with the decorating. Classic horror icons stood in the yard along with a large pumpkin glowing behind them for an eerie effect. A picture of a black cat covered the entire front door. Eliseo stopped to admire the decorations. He wished he had a camera right now.

Too fucking bizarre to even contemplate, to even have been real. Still, it was funny, how the thin giant’s head didn’t seem nearly as large and monstrous tonight as it had when they were younger. There were other Halloween decorations on display along Brazier Drive, amid these sleeping Houses of the Holy. Richard noticed some window-cling mummies, and a bedsheet ghost in the trees. An autumn-harvest scarecrow with a pair of dullish orange pumpkins (whose fleshy insides must be turning to stringy, seeded mush with the warm September days) sat on the porch stoop next door.

I clench my fists, determined to prove her wrong. As she turns to leave, a wicked grin playing on her lips, she pauses and looks back at me. “One last thing, Xavie listens to me. We don’t want him to change his mind about you now, do we, Luna?” she sneers, chucking the bleach at me. My heart sinks as I realise the lid isn’t on the bleach, and it pours over me, burning my skin and ruining what’s left of my dress. I bite my trembling lower lip, vowing not to let her break me.

Blood smears across the carpet, dark streaks that'll never come out. Good thing this place sees worse things than murder. The bathtub is barely big enough, but I manage to fold him inside. His head lolls at an unnatural angle. I turn away, focusing on the next step. Bleach. Lots of it. The motel's supply closet is a joke—just cleaning rags and half-empty bottles. But there's enough bleach to burn away DNA. I pour it over everything: the carpet, the walls, the doorknobs. The chemical smell makes my eyes water.

He gaggled it, trying not to swallow but since he had been held down and his head kept in place, he couldn't throw it out. He ended up in a coughing git. “That was to warn you. That was water.” I dropped the can on the side and picked up the real can of bleach. “This is bleach. I'm sure you can tell.” As I opened the can, the smell filled the room and I saw the way his pupils shook when he smelt it. “Now will you tell me what I want to hear or you'd make me actually do this? I'm sure you know what this would do if I poured it down your throat. From your mouth, down your throat, to your stomach and then everywhere else.”