Returning

Lunar Award Winning Spooky Short Story

As a Samhain, Halloween or All Hallow’s Eve treat, I thought I’d post my short story “Returning” separate from the original Monster of the Week post it appeared in about Dullahan and Samhain. It took first in a fun Halloween-themed writing contest called the Pumpkin Patch by the Lunar Awards. If you need something to send shivers up your spine while handing out candy tonight, here you go!

Returning

The ride from the airport into Black Valley in Co Kerry had initially been filled with pleasantries between siblings who hadn’t shared physical space in a decade. Quickly, it filled with long stretches of silence that they longed to fill with the type of easy conversations they had when they were young. Those days felt buried beneath misinterpreted texts and ignored invitations.

Cara twisted a strand of her straw-colored bob. She glanced at Finn whose knuckles whitened, gripping the steering wheel too tightly for this lazy, winding road. He had always been short, but he was now plump, not as fit as she had remembered him.

“When’s the last time you came home?” Cara asked.

Finn shot her a defensive glare. “When’s the last time you did?”

“I wasn’t trying… I haven’t been home since I left.” Cara’s gaze fell back on the rolling hills.

“Róisín asked a few times, and it didn’t work out. Then she stopped asking, and I never came. God, we’re assholes.”

Cara bristled. “She loved you. She hated me. Never asked me to visit. Maybe she was the asshole.”

“Nice, Cara. Is anything ever not about you?”

Cara turned away and stared at her reflection in the window, focusing on the wrinkles around her green eyes. Her age was starting to show. Being back home made her feel even older. Everything was about her, and she felt shame about it. Not enough to change.

They drove in silence until the road came to a river with a four arched stone bridge. Finn pulled over after they crossed it.

“The Reeks haven’t changed,” Cara sighed, looking at the mountains in the distance.

“Róisín loved it here.”

“Yeah,” Cara reluctantly acknowledged this point. “We all did.” It was the only thing the three of them agreed on.

“Want to do the old hike?” Finn asked, voice trembling.

Cara grabbed his hand awkwardly, keeping her eyes on the Reeks.

“Okay.”

The two walked quietly through the Lickeen Forest toward an old lake house. The air was crisp, chilly. The yellow irises of spring were long gone, and the leaves were bright reds and oranges, the ground damp. The forest smelled of mushrooms and fresh rain.

“Do you think she suffered?” Cara said.

“James doesn’t think so. He sent a letter saying they found her in the woods… and this.” Finn dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold chain with a trinity knot hanging from it.

Cara’s breath caught in her throat, and her hand went to her neck, touching her matching necklace. She never wore it but when she got the news of her sister’s death, she tore her closet apart to find it. Their mother had given them each one when they were young. Finn studied her before pulling up his sleeve, revealing a tattoo of the same symbol. “I was jealous mom always gave you girls stuff like that. I got my own.”

Cara whacked him. “You got that because you were drunk on your 17^th birthday.”

Finn grinned. “I wouldn’t remember that… Want to put it in the geocache up by the lake house?”

Cara smiled. “She’d like that.”

Night was falling, and a light fog covered the tall grass as they drove away from the bridge. The air in the car was less thick than earlier, and the conversation was flowing easier. The two siblings were even laughing. Complete darkness covered the land once they had travelled down the isolated road several miles.

“I’m glad we did that,” Cara said. “It was a good idea.”

“I’ve got another one.” Finn turned off the main road onto a dirt one.

Cara’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to.”

“James said it’s what she wanted,” Finn argued.

“James is one of the reasons I don’t visit. He got her into weird stuff.”

“Mom got her into all that stuff, you know that,” Finn sighed. “It’s just a harmless bonfire. It’s a time to be closer to her, say goodbye.”

Cara watched the main road move further away in the rearview mirror. She tapped her fingers on the door. “When I say I want to go, we leave. Promise?”

“I promise. I don’t want to stay long either.” He pointed at an even smaller drive leading into the forest. “That’s the turn. Remember?”

“Yeah,” Cara mumbled, dreading reliving this tradition with people she had worked hard to forget. The road was bumpy, and tree branches scraped the sides of the rental.

“Glad the contract’s in your name,” Cara joked, holding onto the armrest as she was jostled around.

A large fire slowly became visible through the trees. Finn cracked his window and faint music flowed into the car. “Samhain’s the one thing they do that I don’t hate.”

Cara let the music fill her up. “I like the music. The rest of it is mental.”

Finn stopped the car and removed the keys. Total darkness enveloped them as the headlights dimmed. “We’ll have to walk from here. You good?”

Cara nodded as she squinted toward the flames and spotted figures dancing around the fire. “Let’s get this over with.”

Halfway to the bonfire, a branch snapped behind them. Cara froze. “You hear that?”

Finn kept walking. “It’s a deer or a rabbit. It’s the woods.”

“Yeah.” Cara glanced behind her then back to the bonfire. “Do you buy this Samhain stuff?”

“You mean about the veil between us and the spirit world being thinnest at this time? Not really, but it’s hard not to feel a little closer to the spirits in the middle of the woods at night.”

“It would be nice to see her again, even as a spirit,” Cara whispered.

They entered the small clearing, a giant bonfire at its center. Less than a dozen people wore masks with a variety of adornments—leaves, deer horns, flowers, and feathers. They drank out of cups that were painted to look like bone. Their clothing was made of skins, pelts, and flowing white cotton. Several musicians played guitars, and one man played a hook-shaped instrument called the crumhorn. People laughed and danced. The air smelled of sweat and smoke. One-by-one the revelers spotted them and silenced, gawking as they walked toward the food and drink table.

A tall man wearing a tunic and a horned deer mask approached them. He hugged Finn and then Cara. She tensed.

“Glad ya came.” James released Cara.

“Thanks for putting this together, James,” Finn said.

“It’s what she wanted.” James moved them closer to the table. “Come, let’s get ya two drinks.”

In the center of the table was a square punch bowl filled with red liquid. There were twelve spots for cups circling the bowl. Ten were gone. Two sat waiting. “Here we go. You’re the last to arrive.”

James filled a cup. “Cara, we’ve missed you.”

“Thank you.” Cara took the cup and sniffed the liquid. It smelled like whiskey, cinnamon, maraschino cherries, and something herbal she couldn’t identify.

“It’s best ya sip it…” James filled one for Finn and winked. “Or slam it.”

Finn took the cup and downed it. Cara sipped her drink, accepting that this night was going to be longer than she had wanted.

Cara watched Finn talk to a girl wearing a mask of autumn leaves. Her vision blurred, and she felt dizzy. Everything had a glowing halo around it. She was certain more than booze was in her drink. The light from the bonfire grew too intense so she turned to the darkness of the forest. She spotted a shadow as she stepped closer to the trees. She froze, mesmerized by the blackness weaving in and out of trees. A strong chest and neck, four long legs, and silky mane and tail. A black horse appeared and disappeared, a shadowy and obscured figure on its back. For a moment she felt afraid and wanted to run but in the next moment, the drugs made her feel communal with this creature. Besides, she was certain she was hallucinating, and all this would be a strange story to tell her friends.

The music and partying intensified, becoming a frenzy of dancing, groping, and kissing. Cara searched out the black horse but couldn’t find it. One drumbeat rang, and the music stopped, and everyone froze except for Cara and Finn.

A white horse carrying a woman dressed in a flowing white night gown and cow mask was led out by James. Other revelers wearing black horse masks tossed flowers in front of them. James tied the horse to a stake near the fire. He moved back to the woman and squeezed her hand. She leaned down and whispered to him. He released her hand, nodding at Cara as he backed into the forest, his deer mask haunting her until he completely disappeared.

Finn rushed over to Cara. “Time to bail.”

“Definitely.” Cara wanted nothing more than to run back to the car, but instead, she stood frozen, mesmerized by the dark theater unfolding in front of her.

The other partygoers backed into the forest keeping their masked gazes on the siblings.

“Why are they staring at us?” Cara hissed, chills rushing through her. Her scalp buzzed, and her ears hummed. She felt both inside and outside of her body.

Finn tugged her in the direction of the car. “Let’s not find out.”

Cara pulled her arm from his grasp. Her eyes followed the last reveler’s horse mask as it slipped into the pitch of the woods.

The woman on the horse stared at the siblings.

“This is awkward,” Finn whispered, trying to joke but his voice was thin, as he shot a rattled glance into the forest.

Cara’s heart pounded like it had when she was young, and their mother took them to Samhain. The fire and masks had terrified her, but they simultaneously seduced her. She felt repulsed and drawn to them, just like with her hometown, just like with her family, just like…

The woman slipped off her mask. The world stopped spinning along with the pounding in Cara’s chest as the woman’s face was slowly revealed.

Finn staggered. “Róisín?”

Róisín smiled, her long black hair tied up, the flames flashing in eyes so brown they seemed black. Her plain features looked striking in this setting. “You came.”

Cara felt a strong urge to run to her sister. When she had heard Róisín was dead, her first feeling was relief, her second shame, and her third was devastating regret. She had not set things right with her. Before her stood a second chance to fix what was broken, but behind her in the forest was the darkness that always followed Cara on this isle.

A loud neighing rang. Horse hooves slammed the ground, and it shook. The smell of Sulphur and sweet flowers intertwined with the smoke, making the air thick and noxious. The bonfire’s flames shot up even higher as a black horse with a formidable and headless rider bucked up. Flames flew from the horse’s nostrils as its front hooves shook the earth again. Dullahan, the headless horseman, towered over Róisín.

Róisín slid off her horse, eyes gleaming, unafraid of this demon. She stepped toward the headless horseman reverently and whispered worshipfully, “Dullahan, Crom Dubh, god of all gods, I come to the forest to give you everything in exchange for everything.”

“We need to go!” Finn pulled out a gun.

Cara stuttered. “You have a gun?”

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t trust James,” Finn growled, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “You were right, we shouldn’t have come.”

Dullahan turned his stead from Róisín to her siblings. “I wasn’t. We can save her this time.”

“This time? She was never dead! Our own sister tricked us into coming out here, and we’re not staying to see how it ends.”

A terrible war cry rose from Dullahan’s glowing caldron of a throat, drawing Cara and Finn’s full attention. His massive, gloved hand pulled a whip made of a human spinal cord from his waist and cracked it above his head and then to the ground. Bones snapping and human screams filled the clearing.

The horseman charged, his horse’s eyes burning red, his whip raised, a dark fog and orange flames peeling off his back.

Finn pulled the trigger.

His bullet hit the horseman square in the chest.

Róisín screamed.

The horseman continued, the bullet swallowed up by his chest.

Another bullet and another.

The bullets couldn’t stop Dullahan, the headless horseman, an embodiment of the god Crom Dubh. His mighty whip tore through the night.

The brother flinched, preparing to feel the sharp bone tear through his flesh but no pain came. He patted his neck. He heard the horse snorting behind him. A thud sounded below him. Róisín shrieked, a person taken by madness. Finn turned slowly, the bile rising up in his throat as his eyes landed on her body. Blood pooled around Cara’s neck, the trinity knot necklace disappearing into it. His younger sister was sprawled at his feet, fingers twitching, and head gone.

The brother trembled as he turned again. The horseman clutched Cara’s head in his giant gloved hand, the reigns to his monstrous stead in the other. The flames of the bonfire began to twirl as a dark portal opened.

The horse and its rider leapt into the fire. Cara’s flaming eyes were the last thing Finn saw as the portal closed.

“It was supposed to be me,” Róisín mumbled, staggering back and glaring at her brother, furious. “Why did you shoot him?”

Finn shook her violently, tears freely flowing down his face contorted in grief and rage. “You let us think you were dead! Why?”

“Me being dead was the only way you’d come back home! You two never could just be part of this community like you were born to be. Do what you were supposed to do. You ruin everything!”

“Cara is dead, and you’re angry because whatever made up thing that was supposed to happen on your precious Samhain didn’t happen?”

“It wasn’t made up. You saw it. It happened. It just happened for her. Like it always does. She always gets everything.”

“She’s dead, what are you talk—"

“I’m not letting her get this. This is mine.”

She sprinted toward the bonfire and flung herself into it. Her shrieks crescendoed as he reached into the flames, burning his hands before he covered his ears and slumped to the ground, screaming. The masked partygoers crept out of the forest, singing a strange chant that Finn remembered from his childhood. One at a time, they removed a log from the fire with their bare hands. Their fingers had grown longer, the nails transformed to claws, inhuman and deadly. The flames did not burn them as they created a circle enclosing the fire and the brother, clutching their piece of the larger fire. They transformed fully from their human shapes into terrifying flaming fairies, returning and ravenous.