Edward looked at the state of his house's Halloween decorations. A had graciously added to the decor with items from her collection, but it was tame department store stuff. It didn't seem like enough. He searched the Web, and visited tons of local novelty shops, but all his searching turned up the same lame plastic crap.

Finally, spending a little cash, he bought several cow and pig carcasses, as well as buckets of animal blood, from the meat packing plant. The foreman was initially reluctant to sell, but a hefty bribe made him see the light. After all, he thought, there is nothing like the smell of real blood.

Edward strung animal organs and limbs all over his yard, hanging some in trees. Some animal heads he nailed to the wall. With the buckets of blood, he splash-painted his front porch. The trick-or-treaters could not get to his front door without walking through gallons of real blood. Still, it wasn't enough.

The first trick-or-treaters came by. Edward, dressed as Gimli from The Lord of the Rings and wielding a real, razor sharp dwarven waraxe, sprang from his house and chopped up the children and hacked apart the parents in several lightning quick strokes. He hung the human carcasses in trees and flung sundry parts all over the yard. Still not enough.

Several groups of trick or treaters came by, all getting slashed to bits, and all turned into grisly halloween decorations. Heads were on stakes, skins were stretched between the pillars of his porch, heaps of fat were piled up in front of the door (his dogs were lapping this up), and long strands of intestine were string along the gutter like Christmas garland.

Finally, around midnight, Edward's front yard was soaked with blood. The front porch was greasy and stained dark red. Chunks of human meat and bone were everywhere. He, himself, was caked in all manner of gore and sweat. Looking at his house from the empty street, he said "Now that's decorating!"

Sadly, he noticed that there was no one else to enjoy it with him.

This is my entry in the scary story contest. This is an "original" work. Fiction writing is not my strong suit so by original I mean that my hands typed the words my brain told it to.

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