Flash Fiction - Spirit Halloween

I wrote this in roughly 10 minutes on 10/17/2024 as part of a speed writing exercise. The only changes I made were to add paragraph breaks and fix grammar mistakes and typos. It’s just something small for fun and practice. I used Matthew's prompt #8: “The local Spirit Halloween is closed during business hours. What could be going on for it to be closed?” Enjoy:

The plastic cobwebs in aisle 13 waft as if in a breeze, but there is no air conditioning vent in aisle 13. Neither is there any air flow that would move the pale strands when the doors gasp open or closed with a rush of still-warm October air, against the refrigerated chill.

The front door jingles as customers come and go, excited children and their haggard parents.

"Look, ma, it's Iron Man! I want to be Iron Man!"

"In the car you said you wanted to be Hulk."

"Noooo, I want to be Iron Man,"

"Okay, honey, you can be iron man."

But when they come to aisle 13 the children always change their minds and the parents, though they aren't sure why, agree that it's best not to venture down that aisle.

"I always thought you would make a better hulk anyway."

The employees find reasons to avoid the aisle, or boss around the youngest employee. Get the pimply teenager to adjust the displays that have somehow spilled onto the floor, despite the lack of foot traffic.

Trevor, the high school junior, the pot head who thought this would be an easy way to earn some spare change, tells himself he doesn't believe in ghosts, puffs up his chest, and enters aisle 13.

Trevor snatches irritating black capes and cat ear head bands off the floor and stuffs them back on the shelves haphazardly. The fake cobwebs tickle the back of his neck.

"Stop it already, there ain't no ghosts in a fuckn Spirit Halloween."

But Trevor's not so sure.

His task minimally completed, Trevor quick steps out of aisle 13.

Behind him, the black "Sexy Dracula" capes dangle against the dingy tile floor, sweeping back and forth, stirring dust.

There is no unfinished business in aisle 13, just the curse, just a single soul and its month and a half of existence on a plane extremely unhallowed, least hallowed, but also far from evil, the soul cursed to haunt the purgatory of aisle 13 of Spirit Halloween.