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The Legend of Pickabod and the Halloween Sights It was a dark and stormy night. Pickabod Crane struggled through the manic, howling wind and torrential rain, heading for home. Desperation caused his throat to tighten and his heart to palpitate as he realised he was terribly and utterly lost... A sudden flash of white lightning illuminated the scene, and Pickabod did not like what he saw. A massive, lunatic building jutted from the landscape like a gnarled fist. Only an insane architect could have conceived such a structure. Lightning reflected off the windows like the flash of sharp white teeth. It seemed at once repulsive and enticing him to enter. The huge front doors rattled in the wind. As the rain beat down heavier, Pickabod gritted his teeth and stepped inside... The hallway provided instant quiet after the storm. But Pickabod soon realised he was not alone. Things unseen were creaking and creeping in the shadows beyond. Suddenly aware of a knot in his stomach, Pickabod made his way over to a doorway. The scent of baking pumpkins wafted through a crack in the door and he knew not if it was hunger or fear of those unseen things that drove him on. The kitchen assaulted Pickabod's senses with culinary creations so sublime his knees began to knock. He sampled a frothy witches brew, munched heartily on some pumpkin bread, and nibbled on some sweet skeleton bones. He dearly wished he had the recipes for these darkly delicious delights. Looking through the cupboards he found a cookbook. Pocketing the book of ingredients, Pickabod left the kitchen and entered... The gaming room. Making his way past a dusty old snooker table, Pickabod noticed with fright that the snooker balls were actually eyeballs. They seemed to follow him as he made his way around the room. He soon forgot their charnel gaze however, as he discovered a treasure trove of playful diversions. As he played another round of monster match, Pickabod noticed a musty old book on a shelf. The book seemed to sigh as he opened it, and he felt powerless in its grasp as he read about the old custom of Punky Night... Yet something broke his concentration at once. A large spider dangling just above his shoulder made him jump with fright. Pickabod had always suffered from a phobia when it came to creepy crawlies. He shivered. He hated it when things popped up out of the dark like that. Hurrying from the gaming room, Pickabod tripped over a heavy object in the hallway. Looking over his shoulder he saw that a trapdoor, slightly ajar, had caused his fall. His curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the trapdoor which led to a chamber of horrors. Girls in jars, iron maidens, and other grisly sights awaited him in this dungeon of depravity. Looking for an escape route, Pickabod found that part of the wall had crumbled, giving way to a crypt. Inside the crypt, Pickabod was amazed to find a young boy, all dressed in black. As Pickabod asked if the boy was alright, he was answered with a chilling grin. The boy, it seemed was a little vampire. "Don't worry, I won't bite you," said the boy. But it wasn't the boy Pickabod was afraid of. It was the other, bigger, and much more fearsome vampires who had appeared from the shadows that worried him so. Pickabod felt sure he wouldn't be getting home for his tea in a hurry... "How nice of you to drop in," said the largest of the bloodsuckers as they closed in around Pickabod, "We're always on the lookout for new blood." THE END

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