By Vivian Vande Velde
A boy is trapped in a possessed automobile that has stalled within the direction of an oncoming educate. a lady is dragged right into a crypt in the course of a box journey to an eighteenth-century cemetery. A team of pals meet their destiny after an unsettling stopover at with a backwoods psychic. and that is simply the beginning. Celebrated author Vivian Vande Velde is at her spine-tingling top during this selection of 13 frightening tales, all of which occur on Halloween evening. With stories that variety from the worrying to the downright ugly, this is often one assortment that children probably want to learn with the lighting fixtures on . . . and the doorways locked.
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Extra info for All Hallows' Eve: 13 stories
And now that Tomlin was gone, Elfirda was practically drowning in apples and should have been happy to rid herself of some. But she was as stingy with them as ever. Now, on this day of Brother Wade's sermon, Martin had seen how distraught Elfirda looked when Brother Wade talked about catching a glimpse of recently dead loved ones, for—like everyone else—she must assume Tomlin had probably gotten himself killed by now. This looked like a fine opportunity to get back at her. "Aw, leave the old biddy alone," Raleigh said.
So now, her task on Earth was finished. Except... It had been kind of fun pretending to be a GPS. Maybe, she thought, she'd find another bad teenage driver. Or two. Or three. Morgan Roehmar's Boys Ashley rearranged the dead bodies, because there's nothing worse than a messy dead body. Witches, people could recognize by the cackling laughter; werewolves growled and lunged; and vampires swooped. All of those induced honestly earned alarm. But dead bodies just lay or sit there like so much bloodstained laundry, and if people couldn't tell this was a scene of mass murder and were only startled by the light coming on, what was the point of that?
She thought there'd been a younger boy, twelve or thirteen, tricked by Roehmar asking for help finding a lost puppy—but that might be confusing two stories into one. And she was drawing a total blank on the other two, or possibly three, guys. The only face she could truly remember from the papers was Roehmar's—he'd been in his fifties, kind of jowly but clean-shaven. Not much hair on top of his head, either, and what was there was gray. Ashley had always thought there was an intrinsically evil look about his eyes, but maybe that came from afterward, from knowing what he did, for he didn't seem to have trouble fooling people.