Factory 1 “The Trick-or-Treaters”

Their parents wouldn't help them get Halloween masks.

Should have reconsidered.

Shouldn't have been cheap.

They should have at least made their children keep their mouths shut about it.

Was a cool night. Lot's of kids on the street...still took several houses before people realized the kids weren't wearing masks.

My boy Noah decided he wanted to go as a skeleton this year. Can still smell the face paint under my finger nails. That pungent, awful smell. You never forget it...

When I was a kid everyone used the face paints. Masks cost money. Was cheaper to throw something together. My family didn't have a lot of money back then. On really bad years we would sometimes stay home, my sister and I. We were embarrassed.

I try not to let those memories affect my kids.

Noah, Maddy, and I left the house around seven. Margaret was at home. Figured it was best.

Her face was a little swollen that day.

We heard screaming about twenty minutes after that. It was an older woman. House full of plants. Had lost her husband the other year. Loves kids though. Hands out the big candy bars.

She was screaming at the kids at her door, grasping at the door frame.

I ran across the street. Noah and Maddy followed.

The boy looked right at me. Then he looked at Noah. At least I think he did. Hard to tell. The skin around his eyes was sewn almost completely shut.

The sister just kept rocking in place, clumps of hair falling from her head. She was drooling a lot. Kept trying to suck the saliva back in, but otherwise didn't seem concerned.

Considering the damage I would have imagined there would be more blood.

The boy...he had The Surgeon's face. The same technique. The skin loosened around the mouth and eyes. The vertical stitching. The removal of the cheeks and the nose and ears...

To see that bastard's face on a kid...I screamed.

Couldn't help it.

Boy seemed so proud.

He had experimented on the girl. Let his technique wander to something new. I found out later he only had perhaps an hour to have done the work. Honestly I have no idea how he could have worked so fast.

That poor girl. Just kept drooling. Couldn't hear me asking about her parents. She didn't have ears anymore. Just a line of stitches. Couldn't really lift her head fully. The stitches securing her chin to her chest shifted a little but held fast. She was chattering her teeth.

Trying to...her lips were stitched to the roof of her mouth.

By the time I reached them the woman was already on the phone with police. The kids stood there, unfazed. Didn't seem to realize that anything was wrong.

The stitches were fresh. Whatever he doped them with it was enough to make sure they didn't feel any pain.

Silver linings I suppose.

Doctor's at the hospital said they have developed new techniques in studying The Surgeon's crimes. Said they could fix it. But what he did to those kids...only person to ever have work done on them like that was The Surgeon himself.

That psycho is the only expert.

I didn't know what to do.

Just kept telling my kids to run home but they wouldn't leave.

My kids.

My kids came over to go trick or treating. Should of just made them stay home and watch movies. Noah seemed okay when we had gotten back home.

The fact he wasn't crying like his sister should have tipped me off.

I swear to god I locked away all the knives in the house.

Poor Margaret...I told her what happened. Was like watching someone die. The life drained from her eyes. She just...retreated. Retreated away from it. I suppose that is where she finds her strength. Something like that.

You just can't look at it head on.

It was around eleven when I heard the yowling and the hissing. The pop of bone was what made me run...

Noah...

He went to the hospital again. My sister picked him up in the morning. He was forced to stay the night under observation.

Just in case.

Noah is so young. I don't know how he found the strength to hold Loyd down. There was blood all over the sink...he knew well enough to try and keep it clean.

Just not keep it quiet.

By the time I reached Noah and pulled him away...Lloyd was just...breathing fast. Not even crying out any-more. Just breathing fast. And then he wasn't...

I almost hit him. I almost did. I had gotten that cat for Margaret. For company. With the kids gone it was like a replacement. Something to fill the space.

Is that why Noah did it?

I didn't think there was that much blood in a cat.

Noah is physically okay. A few bites and scratches.

He is caught up on his shots.

Margaret said she would bury Loyd that night. Said I should stay at the hospital with Noah...

I don't think it was a good idea. It is my fault. Something in me must drawn that sort of thing out of him. I could blame the incident with the trick-or-treaters but that would be wrong. It was just a trauma.

Noah has been wrong for a long time.

Just like his daddy.

It has been two years since I moved back. Tried to make a new start.

It was cold today.

Sun was out.

Noah is getting new medicine.