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How far will you run?
Monday morning at Miller’s Cafe. The usual zombies stumble in for their daily fix of caffeine and sugar. Frank sat outside at a table overlooking Belmont, the local village. He noticed all the animals seemed to be facing in the same direction, observing the small town. The town was busier than usual. But today was Halloween - party supplies were needed; last minute costumes required their finishing touches.
But why was everyone gathering in one place like that? Violet prevented him from investigating further as she brought out his order. A strong coffee, with a signature leaf pattern sculpted into the foam, and a summer fruit scone with clotted cream and raspberry jam as condiments.
“Do you know what's happening in town?” asked Frank. He took a spoon to his coffee, destroying the foamy graffiti in the process. Violet covered the sun with her hands and squinted at the increasing mass of people.
“Hmm, I'm not sure... Last minute Halloween shopping?”
“... Yeah, must be. I thought that too.”
He held up the pot of jam and twisted the lid off with a satisfying pop.
Violet caught her mistake.
“Your knife! Let me go grab one for you.”
She went back inside. Frank stood up and fixated on the crowd again. He felt drawn to it, like it was sucking him in. He tried to resist...to avert his eyes, but it was intoxicating.
Violet disturbed his gaze as the sound of metal ricocheted off his plate.
A confused Frank turned to face her. How long had he been staring?
“The crowd is getting bigger,” said Frank.
He wanted to be polite, but something was wrong. The air felt different. His gut didn't feel right. The hair on his body sharpened. Violet monitored the crowd.
“It's coming toward us...”
A violent cry shook the airways.
"Was that a scream?"