Trick or Treat
A scary Halloween story good for 9-12
A story with a twist. At the end of the story there is a PDF of the comic book version for your students who struggle. It’s the same story with a couple of differences. You can print it out if you like. Then students can choose which version to work with - whatever fits their English ability. This is a one lesson story.
Trick or Treat
All Hallow’s Eve. Halloween evening. I have lots of candy in a bucket.
Do you think I give kids candy because I like them? Well, you are wrong. I hate kids. Noisy, smelly and say weird things. No, I keep all the candy for myself.
Halloween is my favourite evening because it’s the only time I can be horrible to kids. Kids come to my door with no parents. So, I can say what I like.
I put on scary clown makeup. When a kid comes to my door, I try and make them cry. It’s fun! I have a blackboard by my door. I call it my “bad night score”. I draw a line for every kid I make cry. Last year I got three. I want to do better this year.
Knock, knock.
I open the door.
It’s a kid dressed in a black rug with tomato ketchup on his face.
“And what are you tonight?” I ask.
“I’m Dracula,” he says.
I laugh. “Dracula is a tall and bad man with sharp teeth. You are a silly kid in a rug.”
I show the kid the bucket of candy. He reaches for it. Then I pull it away. “No candy for you,” I say.
The kid sniffs back a snot bubble. I draw a line on my blackboard.
***
Knock, knock.
I open the door.
It is a kid in a long white sheet with eyeholes cut out.
“And what are you tonight?” I ask.
“I’m a ghost,” she says.
“Rubbish!” I laugh. “Real ghosts are scary. You are as scary as a dead kitten.”
I show her the bucket of candy and then pull it away. She starts to cry.
Line number two.
Knock, knock.
I open the door.
It is a little boy wearing green, with a toy bow and arrow.
“And what are you tonight?” I ask.
“I’m Robin Hood,” he says.
I laugh. “I don’t think so. You are just silly little boy with a toy.”
I show him all my candy and then pull it away. “No candy for silly little boys,” I say.
Yes! I can see tears in his eyes. I draw another line.
***
Knock, knock.
I open the door.
It is a girl. She looks scary. White makeup, blood on her mouth … her parents must have helped her.
“And what are you tonight?” I ask.
“I’m a zombie,” she says.
“If you are a zombie,” I say showing her the candy, “then you don’t eat candy, you eat brains.”
“I’m not a real zombie,” the girl says.
“I know that!” I shout. “You are just a silly little girl pretending. No candy for you!”
The girl starts crying.
I laugh and slam the door in her face.
Number 4!
***
Come on! I just need one more!
I wait. I wait some more. Three minutes. Five minutes. Then…
Knock. Knock.
Knock.
But this is different. Slow. Hard. Bang. Bang. Bang!
I open the door.
There are four kids in jeans and white T-shirts.
Normal clothes. But the kids look weird.
Their skin looks old, their hair is white. I look at their eyes. Not blue. Not brown. Their eyes are red. Red like blood.
I am holding the bucket of candy in my hand, but they just look at me. My heart is beating fast.
“And what are you tonight?” I say in a small voice.
The weird kids don’t say anything. They just stare at me with their blood red eyes. I take a step back.
“Don’t you…. don’t you like candy?” I try and smile. I can’t. And then I nearly scream. One of the kids opens her mouth and I see she has small sharp black teeth and her tongue is grey.
“No,” she says. “We don’t like candy.”
I take another step back. I am freaking out. I must say something. Anything.
“And what are you tonight?” I say again in a small voice. I wipe water from my eyes.
The kids all take a step towards me.
The girl puts out her hand. Long, sharp fingernails, and scratches a line on my board.
She opens her eyes wider. No white, no other colour. Just blood red.
Their mouths are open, grey tongues dancing over hundreds of sharp, black teeth.
“Please…” I stammer. “Please, tell me what you are tonight.”
She looks at me with her dead, red eyes.
“We’re children,” she whispers.
