Five days later, Henry was outside the house arranging fake cobwebs, plastic skeletons, carved pumpkins, and other Halloween decorations for the following night's celebration.
He picked up one of the plastic skeletons, stared at it for a moment, and shook his head. "Hmm... maybe I should just ask Madison to turn into a werewolf and scare the kids. That'd be a lot more convincing than this skeleton."
A chuckle came from behind him. "So, you're the new neighbor?"
Henry turned around. A man stood by the fence with a friendly smile and extended his hand. "Luke Wallace."
Henry shook it. "Henry Winchester."
Luke glanced at the decorations scattered across the front yard. "Getting ready for Halloween?"
"Kinda," Henry replied with a shrug. "If I don't help with all this, I'm pretty sure they'll stop feeding me."
Luke laughed. "Fair enough. I'm in the same situation." He looked around the yard before asking, "So, you enjoy Halloween?"
"I did when I was a kid," Luke said with a nostalgic grin. "Back then I could eat as much candy as I wanted. These days I can't even do that."
"Why not?"
"My wife says I need to watch my sugar."
Henry nodded sympathetically. "Yeah... wives tend to win those arguments."
Luke smiled. "So... would you mind if we went out for a drink?"
Henry glanced at the afternoon sun. "Well... it's still the afternoon."
Luke scratched the back of his head and laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He was just about to leave when Henry looked at the half-finished decorations and shrugged.
"But who cares? It's not like we've got anything important going on today." He grinned. "Just give me a minute. I'll let Madison know where I'm going."
Luke's face lit up. "Now that's the spirit."
After telling Madison he was heading out, Henry walked next door with Luke. At the front door, Luke gave him an apologetic smile. "Wait here for a minute. I should tell my wife first — convincing her might take a while. You can come inside if you want."
Henry shrugged. "I've got time."
Luke led him into the living room before heading deeper into the house. "I'll only be a minute!"
Henry sat down on the sofa while Luke disappeared into the kitchen. Almost immediately, raised voices drifted through the house.
"A drink? It's the middle of the day, Luke. Tomorrow is Halloween, and we still have a dozen things to finish."
"I know, honey, but I'll only be gone for a little while."
"You said that last time too."
Henry smiled to himself as he listened. Then his expression changed.
A faint ripple of magic brushed against his senses.
Magic?
His eyes swept slowly across the house. In a normal family's home?
The feeling was weak but unmistakable. He quietly stood up and followed the trail until he reached the kitchen doorway. Luke and his wife had moved into the backyard, still arguing. Making sure neither of them was looking, Henry crouched beside the kitchen sink. The magic was coming from underneath it.
He reached behind the cabinet and pulled out a small cloth pouch tied together with black string.
A hex bag.
He frowned as he turned it over in his hand. Without hesitation, he crushed it in his palm. The charms inside crumbled into dust and the lingering magic vanished instantly. He slipped the remains into his pocket.
Why would a witch target an ordinary family?
Before he could think any further, Luke walked back into the living room wearing a satisfied grin. "Good news. My wife finally agreed."
Henry smiled as though nothing had happened. "Great. Let's go."
The two walked outside together. Luke headed toward his car while Henry paused on the porch long enough to burn the remains of the hex bag with a small flick of his fingers. As the ashes scattered into the wind, he looked back at the house.
Witches... they're all crazy. Whatever this was, I'll figure it out later.
He climbed into the passenger seat and Luke drove them away.
***
That evening, one of Henry's other neighbors was relaxing after dinner, sitting on the living room couch with a bottle of beer, switching channels and enjoying the quiet before Halloween.
He took another drink. A moment later, he frowned and let out a small cough. The cough quickly grew harsher. He set the bottle down and grabbed his throat, coughing again and again as though something were stuck inside.
His wife looked over from the kitchen. "Honey... are you okay?"
He tried to answer, but only another violent cough came out.
A razor blade flew from his mouth and landed on the coffee table with a sharp metallic clink.
His wife froze.
Before she could reach him, he coughed again. A second blade came out. Then a third. Then a fourth. Each one tore through his throat on the way up. Blood poured from his mouth as he collapsed onto his knees, desperately trying to breathe.
His wife screamed and rushed toward him, but there was nothing she could do.
The man fell onto the floor, coughing up blood one last time before his body went still. Several bloodstained razor blades lay scattered across the carpet as his horrified wife stood frozen beside him.
*****
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