ANOTHER STORY FOR HALLOWEEN

He had come too far. He realized that as the car spluttered to a halt and the petrol gauge registered on empty.
Cursing, he banged both his hands down on the steering wheel in frustration.
He’d passed a petrol station some thirty miles back along the road, but it had been closed. Hoping to find another garage, he’d driven on through the night. Now this!
He glanced towards the dashboard. Looking firstly at the petrol gauge, and then at the clock glowing with an eerie green light. 1.30am.
Opening the car door he put the handbrake on and then stepped out into a dark country lane, unlit, apart from the headlights of his car.
He’d be damned if he were going to sit here all night waiting for a friendly, passing motorist. He knew he’d have to walk to find some signs of life and obtain assistance.
Reaching into the car, he switched off the lights and fumbled about in the glove compartment for the torch, which he slipped into his jacket pocket. Locking the car he started to walk into the cold October night, which quickly enveloped him like a thick, dark, blanket.
He walked on for what seemed like miles listening to the rhythmic tread of his feet on the rough surface of the road, interspersed with the occasional rustling sounds from the undergrowth. Somewhere in the dark distance came the lonely hooting of a night owl.
James smiled to himself. All he needed now was a storm, and an eerie country house with its lugubrious housekeeper, and he could be right in the middle of a 1930’s black and white horror movie.
James reached a bend in the road, and to his delight, as he rounded it he saw nearby house lights. “Let’s hope they haven’t all gone to bed,” he thought. What he wouldn’t give for a hot drink and a comfortable chair. If he ever fancied “doing” the London Marathon, he’d certainly gone right off the idea now.
As he reached the house, which was indeed a large country residence, he saw that although the curtains were drawn across the windows, there appeared to be someone moving about in the room. Walking up to the front door he lifted the large knocker and let it fall back heavily.
He waited, straining his ears for sounds of life. He wasn’t disappointed; someone was unlocking the heavy wooden entrance door.
It opened slowly, inch by inch. James gasped in horror as his eyes fell upon the apparition waiting there. A white-faced spectre stood before him. Long grey hair tumbling in a tangled mess about its shoulders. From a gaping wound in its throat dripped scarlet blood.
James screamed silently and fell to the floor in a faint.

When he came to he was half sitting, half lying on a settee. Around him were a group of people. Well not exactly people. There were two witches, a monster with a plastic bolt through his neck, two mummies bound in bandages, a skeleton and the spectre from the front door, who was pressing a glass of water to James’ lips.
“Sorry we gave you such a fright mate, we thought you were a belated party guest”.
As he passed out yet again, James’ eyes fell on a poster above the fireplace. It was decorated with spiders and bats, and read “HAPPY HALLOWEEN 2008” !