WEBVTT
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Two masked thieves choose an elderly woman's house for an
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easy robbery the night before Halloween. Then a gun goes
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off and the woman just smiles. They came for her money.
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Now she's offering them candy and a lesson in why
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some doors should never be knocked on.
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Trick or treat. There's a chill in the air. Must
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be fall. Join me for a tale of Halloween. You
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will experience tales of horror, ghosts, and death. It is
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not recommended for the weak at heart, but who merely
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listens to warnings anyway. This is Weekly Spooky.
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Hello, my spookies. It's Wednesday. Not that it matters in October,
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when we have something spooky for you every day, sometimes
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more than once a day. I'm your host, Enrique Couto,
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and I'm so happy to have you here at my
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figurative front door, ringing the bell, asking for a treat.
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Because I've got one, just for you, courtesy of author
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Charles Campbell. and his love for all things spooky, just
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like ours. So if you love the spooky side of
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life and you haven't yet already, make sure you're subscribed
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on your favorite podcast app, and while you're at it,
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leave us a five-star rating on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.
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That way other spookies just like you will know they're
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in the right place. And don't forget, we'll be here
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through November and December giving you lots of holiday-themed fear
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to enjoy, and we're not going anywhere come the new year.
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We're in seven years of Weekly Spooky, about to embark
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on eight, and we have no plan of slowing down,
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including a brand new episode on Halloween Day. So make
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sure you're subscribed, and thank you so much for the support.
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But now, as for tonight, get a little closer, my spookies.
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We're taking the long way to the house. Down the
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end of the road, a long dirt road, a secluded house,
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and an old woman who keeps to herself. Most of
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us would keep walking. Clement and Miller see something else.
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They see an easy target. They've brought Halloween masks, and
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one of them has brought a gun. Neither has brought
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much in the way of common sense, because here's the
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thing about picking a victim. You better know what exactly
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is opening that door. And when this woman looks at
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these boys, she doesn't look frightened. She looks interested. So
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get cozy, and let's head down to the valley. Trickster
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in Training by Charles Campbell October 30th, 2024 Fuck her feelings,
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Clement said as he flashed a devilish smile on Devil's Night.
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Maybe we shouldn't, I mean, she's old, Miller urged. You
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want to end up like your cousin? Clement asked, then
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pulled the pumpkin mask over his greasy, pimple-filled face. No,
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Miller replied through his skeleton mask. Okay then, don't be
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a pussy. Let's go, Clement said and glanced at his phone.
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It was almost ten o'clock. The teenage boys walked toward
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the long, dirt road. Felicia Fields stared from the attic's window.
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Her house was as secluded as she was. She was
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76 years old, but could pass for 56. Her long
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silver hair danced in the moonlight that filled the clean
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and well-kept attic. She had a curvy build, but not
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what people would consider fat. She was full-figured and pleasing
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to the eye, judging by the men that turned their
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heads on her rare public appearances. Felicia tilted her head
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back and breathed deeply. She smelled them. Those foolish boys.
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How much do you think she has? Miller asked. A
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shit ton, Clement replied, and felt for the glock in
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his back waistband to make certain It was still there.
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Can you be a little quieter, dipshit? You're breathing like
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a fat girl walking up a hill, Clement said. It's
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the mask. It's hard to breathe and see in this thing,
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Miller replied. Well, feel free to take it off. Oh, wait.
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Old Hag Fields, can you describe the perpetrators? Yes, one
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was wearing a pumpkin mask and the other one looked
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like a baboon's red ass and then the cops would
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know it was Miller Monroe, son of career criminal Willie
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Monroe and cousin to the deceased Bruce Monroe. Again, do
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you want to end up like your cousin? No, Miller meeked.
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Then shut the fuck up. Clement said as he led
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the way up the long, winding dirt road. The house
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was now in sight, and it looked so creepy in
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the full moonlight. Miller half expected to see bats circling about.
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The boys were now at the bottom of the front steps.
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Felicia opened the door. You're a tad early, aren't you, boys?
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She asked, trying to beat the crowd. Clement said. Miller
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remained silent. Well, aren't you supposed to say something? Felicia asked.
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Trick or treat, Miller said, just above a whisper, his
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voice cracking with fear. What was that? Felicia asked. Her
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voice had a sultry quality that made Miller squirm inside.
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Clement was not yet afraid and pulled the Glock. All tricks,
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you old bitty, Clement said and pointed the gun at
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Felicia's head. She laughed. This is when Miller knew they
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had fucked up. Let's go. We can't do this. Miller
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stopped mid-sentence, staring in disbelief. Clement fired the gun, but
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he truly didn't mean to. The Glock wasn't known to
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have a hair trigger, but Clement could get excited in
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the moment of being a bad boy. And that is
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what happened. The bullet hit Felicia clean in the forehead,
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and she smiled as blood sprayed for a couple of
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seconds before the gaping wound closed and healed itself. The
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boys heard the bullet hit the floor behind her. Anything
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she did to them now was justified, and she was
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going to do a lot. Fuck me, Clement said, and
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turned to run. Miller stood in shock as Felicia grabbed
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Clement by the back of his britches, lifted him into
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the air, and tossed him into a porch pillar with
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the effort of throwing a newborn kitten. The crunch of
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a clavicle and a fresh scream from Clement's lips brought
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a smile to Felicia's face. Don't you move, little boy,
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she hissed at Miller. He pissed himself, but fear made
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him stay put. All tricks, you say? I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
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let me go, Clement begged. You'd leave your friend behind?
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Felicia asked. Yeah, take him, just let me go. Clement replied.
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Some friend you are. Are you hearing this? What's your name?
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Felicia asked. M-M-Miller. You hear that? M-M-Miller? Your buddy would
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just let you die. Kinda like your cousin, huh? What?
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Miller asked. Take off that stupid mask, Felicia commanded. Miller did.
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Clement was writhing in pain. Felicia ripped the pumpkin mask
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from Clement's face. His nose was already swelling, and blood
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dripped from his lips caused by the jagged edges of
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his shattered teeth. You are one ugly fucker, aren't you?
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Stand up, Felicia said. I can't, Clement replied. Help your
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friend to his feet and come inside, Felicia ordered. Miller
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moved quickly to help Clement to his feet and oh
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so briefly glanced at the guns. lying on the porch,
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but knew better than to go for it. Clement was
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almost dead weight in Miller's arms, but he more or
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less drug him into the house behind Felicia. Miller knew
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there was no point in running. Maybe she would show
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him some kind of mercy. Miller drug Clement down a long,
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dark hallway. There was a light emitting at the very end.
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And as it drew closer, Miller's thoughts went back to
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his cousin. One year before Halloween night. Bruce, you ready?
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Clement asked. Yeah, ready to hit some licks. Bruce replied
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and flashed a grin at his younger cousin, Miller. My man.
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Clements said in his best Denzel voice. He paid Miller
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no mind. It was quickly approaching midnight, and the trick-or-treaters
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were off the streets. The boys approached Lenny Johnson's house,
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although Shaq would be a better description. He was the
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first of four targets, but he would be the first
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and last this evening. Back window. He keeps it cracked.
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Been watching for a few days, Bruce said. Hard to
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believe he has money, Clement added, judging by the condition
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of the shoebox-style home. Oh, he's loaded. Put your masks on,
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Bruce said. He climbed atop a couple of cinder blocks
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he found lying around in Lenny's yard and fully opened
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the cracked window. He climbed in first without a sound
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He found himself standing in a dark bedroom. Lenny's bedroom.
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He could hear Lenny peacefully snoring. Bruce turned to make
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sure Clement was quiet. They had decided to let Miller
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hang outside to be a lookout for any nosy neighbors or,
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even worse, a patrol car. It was Clement that fucked
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this up. He almost cleared the window. when a tip
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of his left sneaker caught the sill and he tumbled
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into the bedroom with a heavy thud. Who's there? Lenny
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shouted as he sat up straight. Bruce heard the bedside
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table drawer quickly slide open. The lamp flicked on and
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Bruce saw the heels of Clement's shoes scrambling back out
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the window he entered. He heard Clement shouting for Miller
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to run. He didn't get another word out before the
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slug from Lenny's. 357 turned his brain into scrambled spam.
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Bruce met his demise on Lenny's bedroom floor. The other
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boys got away scot-free. Clement would be sure that he
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had a gun for future burglaries, so this wouldn't be
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a problem going forward. But, in reality... It wouldn't matter
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when they met Felicia. Just after midnight, Halloween 2024, Clement
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blinked rapidly at the swinging light above his head. The
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air was acrid, and there was an unpleasant hum in
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his ears. His chest felt as if an elephant was
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sitting on it. His vision was blurry, and he ran
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his tongue across the jagged teeth, and that was a
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very unpleasant feeling. Trick or treat, the sultry voice whispered
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in his ear. Where's Miller? Don't worry about him. Guess
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you didn't learn your lesson last year, Felicia said. I'm sorry,
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just let me go. Clement pleaded. I'm going to give
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you a chance to live through this, Felicia said. She
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saw the glimmer of hope in Clement's eyes, and that
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made her happy. What do I have to do? Clement asked.
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You like the tricks, right? You like robbing people, right?
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Be honest, Felicia said. Yeah, I do. But I'll stop.
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Swear to God. Swear to me! Felicia screamed. Her eyes
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turned black as coal, and that scared the bejesus out
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of Clement. I swear to you. I swear to you. Good. Good.
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All you have to do is get up and walk out,
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she said, her iris returning to emerald green. I... I
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can't walk, Clement said. Then crawl. The door's right there.
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Felicia pointed behind her to the open door. Clement began crawling.
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Miller was standing just outside the door. listening as Felicia
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urged Clement to leave. She told him not to move
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a muscle, and he knew she was serious. He could
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hear Clement's fingernails scratching the floor as he crawled gingerly
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toward the door. Felicia stepped through and smiled. That's a
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good boy, she said, and held out her hand. Miller
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grabbed it and she led him down a dark corridor
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that was surprisingly long. There was noise at the end
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of the hallway, but it wasn't a noise he was expecting.
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It was his mother's voice. What? Miller asked. She can't
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hear you, but you need to listen, and listen well,
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you little shit. Felicia said. Miller opened the door, and
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it was the living room of the trailer he lived
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in with his mother and younger sister. There was a
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young police officer. He couldn't have been much more than
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21 years old. Miller's mother, Teresa, was crying, and his sister, Martha,
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was dressed in a princess costume. Martha's lips trembled as
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tears welled in her eyes as she watched her mother
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openly weep. Why is he so stupid? Miller, what have
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you done, my boy? Teresa asked, looking at the cop
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as if he were her kid. I'm so sorry for
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your loss, Mrs. Monroe. I know this is difficult to digest,
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but do you know who Miller was... hanging out with
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in the last 24 hours. Teresa rocked back and forth,
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seemingly staring through the cop. Clement, Martha said just above
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a whisper. Clement Booker? The cop repeated. Martha nodded. He
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heard the name before. They questioned him in relation to
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the Lenny Johnson break-in the year before. a break-in that
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resulted in the justified death of Bruce Monroe. But nothing
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could stick, and Lenny couldn't positively identify Clement. The cop
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was putting it together in his mind. He'd just come
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on board when all of that went down. Where's your dad?
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the cop asked Martha. Prison. He won't get out for
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another five years, is what Mama said. Martha answered. Miller
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turned to Felicia in shocked disbelief. She's grieving you, you
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little trickster in training. They're going to find your lifeless
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corpse tomorrow, and your mother and sister will grieve you.
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Martha will turn to the streets, and your mother will
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take some pills and end the hurt, all because you
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had to follow Clement. Your father was a piece of shit.
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Your cousin was a piece of shit. But you, you
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had a chance to rise above it all. Still, you
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chose to follow a bigger piece of shit. You both
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left your cousin to die, so that makes you a
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piece of shit too, Felicia said. Her eyes turned into
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black pools once again, but they didn't strike fear in Miller.
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He looked back into them. He believed she was trying
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to give him an out. Felicia's black nails grew out
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into long points. and saliva dripped from the corner of
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her lips. Wait here, you little shit, she said, and
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scampered back down the hallway, back toward Clement. Clement was
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almost to the door. His broken clavicle screamed at him
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to stop. His mouth was throbbing and his gums were
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swelling around the shards of teeth that remained in his head.
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He pushed. He pushed. He pushed because he didn't have
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a choice. Miller wasn't here to pick him up. Miller
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was probably dead is what Clement thought. He finally got
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one hand into the hallway. Clement? Trick or treat! Felicia shouted.
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She was nearly on top of him. Her silver hair
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was now black. She still had her sultry figure, but
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she moved quickly with the grace of a feline. She
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was shaking something He could hear loose items rattling around.
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I'm leaving, like you said. Please, just let me leave,
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Clement begged. Not until you eat your candy. Felicia's face
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suddenly appeared in front of Clement's. He could smell the
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sweetness of her breath. She put the bag of candy
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in between them. You can leave when you eat this
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whole bag of candy. Scout's honor, Felicia said. I... my
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mouth can't... I can't chew, Clement said. It's okay. There's
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no hard candy, and it's all taffy and chews. Here,
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let me help you with the first one, Felicia said,
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and pulled a small Tootsie Roll chew from the large,
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bat-covered trick-or-treat bag. Open up, Felicia commanded. Clement opened his
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swollen mouth as tears fell from his eyes. She popped
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in the Tootsie Roll. Now chew, she said. I can't.
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Fucking chew it, Clement! Chew it or I'm going to
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bite a hole in the side of your face! Felicia
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screamed and opened her mouth to reveal razor-sharp, pointed black teeth.
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Clement began to chew. His teeth were cutting his tongue
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and inner cheeks. It hurt so fucking much, but it
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was still better than getting bit in the face by
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this witch. And it hit him. That's what she was.
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Felicia was a fucking witch. She had to be. There
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was no other explanation. Where did you go wrong, Clement?
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Were you just... born this way, a victim of your upbringing,
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or were you just an evil little sperm that committed
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his first breaking and entering into your mother's egg? Felicia
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laughed and sprayed spittle in Clement's painful face. Clement swallowed
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the first Tootsie Roll almost whole after trying to soften
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it up as much as he could. Tootsie Rolls weren't
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exactly soft out of the wrapper. Those little bitches could
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be quite hard at first tell me clement does miller
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know about georgiana flowers the girl you killed two years
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ago clement's eyes widened how could she know she's a
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witch that's how she could know he was going to
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try to lie anyway i i never killed anybody he
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whispered it hurt to even talk Don't you fucking lie
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to me. Eat the candy. Clement reached into the bag
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and pulled out a banana-flavored Laffy Taffy. Under normal circumstances,
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he loved banana-flavored Laffy Taffy. He put it in his mouth,
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intent on swallowing it whole. Chew it! Chew it! Don't
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you dare swallow it! Felicia screamed. Clement's jaws moved up
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and down. as blood oozed from his closed lips. She
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was only nine. Did you find it fun? Was it
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a rush for you? Two years before, October 31st, Georgiana
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Flowers found herself separated from her brother, At the fat
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man's forest haunted house, she was dressed as a neon-colored
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skeleton with a rainbow-colored skirt and red headband. The colors
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went well with her strawberry blonde hair. Clement was following behind,
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but not too closely, with a wicked grin on his
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face underneath the werewolf mask. This haunt was really geared
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more toward high school-aged teenagers and above. The practical effects
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were pretty good for a small-town haunt. Fake blood, screams,
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and monsters galore were aplenty from start to finish. Georgiana
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screamed a few times. One of the female haunt actors
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broke character, grabbed her by the hand, and asked her
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if she was okay. It was her intent to walk
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her through the veiled curtain to safety if she wasn't.
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Georgiana didn't want to seem like a baby and politely declined.
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She told a little white lie, saying her brother was
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just ahead of her and she would be fine. The
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haunt actor nodded and went back to work. Clement moved
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quickly past them as they were chatting. He reached the
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end before Georgiana. He knew her older brother, Oscar, and
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he despised him. Oscar had beat Clement's ass on more
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than a couple of occasions, so he had a little
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treat planned for Georgiana. He placed himself just outside the
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haunt's exit. He scanned the area for Oscar, and thankfully
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didn't see the tall, muscular boy. Georgiana emerged. It was
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time to put on the act. Yuck! Clement said as
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he opened his bag. Georgiana glanced in his direction, and
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he took his shot. Hey, can you come here for
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a second? She paused and noticed all the people standing around,
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and decided to see what the werewolf was looking at
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in the bag. Hi, what's wrong? Georgiana asked. Nothing really,
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but I went trick-or-treating before coming here and Somebody gave
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me a whole bunch of Tootsie Rolls. I hate Tootsie Rolls.
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I'm a werewolf, Clement said and howled. Georgiana laughed. Look,
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I got a handful of these things. You want them?
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He asked, nodding toward her trick-or-treat bag. Sure, if you
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don't like them, she answered. I really don't, Clement replied
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and placed the Tootsie Rolls in her bag. No sooner
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did he give her the candy, Clement heard the unmistakable
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voice of Oscar quickly approaching. Hopefully, she'd share this shit
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with him. Georgiana, get over here, girl! Her attention went
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away from the werewolf and focused on her brother. Clement
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slithered away like the snake he was. Later that night,
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Georgiana was tired. Her brother brought her home before darting
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back out for some late-night antics with his buddies. Her
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parents were fast asleep, and Georgiana was alone in her room.
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She was showered in her PJs and ready for bed.
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She was about to turn off her desk lamp and
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hit the sack, but she paused. She looked at her
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trick-or-treat bag and thought,' Why not?' Georgiana pulled three small
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Tootsie Rolls from the bag and ate them, one behind
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the other, before turning off the light. Her mother would
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find her dead the next morning. Clement poisoned the candy,
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and Georgiana died in her sleep. They would never know
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who killed her, but Felicia knew as soon as she
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smelled him. Miller had time to think. He heard Clement scream,
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but that was okay. If she let him live, he'd
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cut out all of this shit He'd help his mother.
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He'd be a role model for his sister. He would
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turn his life around. He would. He would be a
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better man. Miller was a reluctant criminal. Peer pressure and
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fear were factors, but he now realized they could not
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be excuses. Did he want to end up like Bruce? No,
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he did not. Felicia watched in glee as Clement kept chewing.
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The pain in his eyes was exciting her. Please let
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me leave. Clement could barely speak now. His mouth was
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all kinds of torn up. She was nine. You're the
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worst piece of shit out of all of them, Felicia said.
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She circled around the broken boy lying on the floor
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in front of her. Saliva flowed like a faucet from
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her mouth. She was getting worked up. Her mother, her brother,
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grieving such a pretty little girl so full of life
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to get snuffed out by a little shit like you.
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If you wanted to get back at her brother, why
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not confront him like a man? That's right, you're not
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a man. You're a little shit, a little shit that's
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about to get flushed because you ain't finishing that bag
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of candies. I'll give you a choice. You can redeem
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yourself and tell me to let Miller go and kill you,
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or you can crawl out of here the way you
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are now. You don't have to eat the candy, and
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I'll kill the boy that hasn't done the shit you have.
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So pick. Kill Miller, Clement mumbled. Nah. Trick, motherfucker! Felicia
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howled and sank her nails into both of Clement's cheeks.
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Flesh ripped as she lifted him to meet her gaze.
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Blood poured from his eyes and... She smiled. The razor-sharp
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teeth ripped his throat clean out, and she dropped him
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back on the floor. The sickening gurgling of Clement's last
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breaths filled the room. The world... was a better place.
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Miller heard the scuffle in the distance, and then there
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was silence. The hair on the back of his neck
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stood on end. He could feel her approach and braced
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for his fate. Miller kept his eyes closed. I'm going
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to let you go. Say nothing about me or this place.
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Do better. If you don't, I'll be watching. Now open
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your eyes and get the fuck out of here, you
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little shit, before I change my mind. Miller didn't have
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to be told twice. Thank you, he said, and left.
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He went home to his mother and sister, and he
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did do better. The end. Well, my spookies, so much
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00:33:35.930 --> 00:33:40.109
for easy money. A big spooky thank you to Charles
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00:33:40.170 --> 00:33:43.690
Campbell for this very scary story, and Charles has many
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00:33:43.789 --> 00:33:46.910
great stories here at Weekly Spooky, as well as at
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00:33:46.970 --> 00:33:51.990
his podcast, Horror 421. Find it on your favorite podcast app.
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00:33:52.470 --> 00:33:56.549
You know, some people hand out full-sized candy bars, but Felicia...
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00:33:56.750 --> 00:33:59.859
She likes to hand out consequences, and you know, I
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00:34:00.400 --> 00:34:03.900
respect that. And remember, by the way, a mask may
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00:34:03.940 --> 00:34:06.940
be able to hide your face, but it really can't
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00:34:07.039 --> 00:34:11.449
hide what you've done. So keep that in mind, and
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00:34:11.730 --> 00:34:13.570
thank you all so much for joining me. Of course,
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00:34:13.630 --> 00:34:16.289
I'll be back tomorrow with a brand new Thursday Thrills
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00:34:16.369 --> 00:34:19.469
all about Clinton Road, so don't miss it. And I
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00:34:19.510 --> 00:34:21.409
want to say thank you all so much for heading
398
00:34:21.449 --> 00:34:25.090
to weeklyspooky.com slash join and supporting us for as little
399
00:34:25.130 --> 00:34:27.900
as $ 1 a month. It really does make a huge
400
00:34:27.960 --> 00:34:31.199
difference for the show. There are over 90 Spookys supporting us,
401
00:34:31.719 --> 00:34:33.519
and now's a great time for you to join up
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00:34:33.579 --> 00:34:35.969
as well. And speaking of, I want to say an
403
00:34:36.110 --> 00:34:39.849
extra special thank you to our Patreon podcast boosters. Those
404
00:34:39.889 --> 00:34:41.889
are folks who pay just a little bit more to
405
00:34:41.929 --> 00:34:43.929
hear their names at the end of the show. And
406
00:34:43.969 --> 00:34:48.199
they are Johnny Nix, Kate and Lulu, Jessica Fuller, Mike Eschewy,
407
00:34:48.300 --> 00:34:51.920
Jenny Green, Karen Wemet, Jack Kerr, and Craig Cohen. Thank
408
00:34:51.960 --> 00:34:53.400
you all so much, and if you want to hear
409
00:34:53.440 --> 00:34:55.840
your name at the end of every episode of Weekly Spooky,
410
00:34:56.280 --> 00:34:58.940
just head to weeklyspooky.com slash join and sign up at
411
00:34:58.960 --> 00:35:02.590
the $ 15 a month or higher tier. It really makes
412
00:35:02.639 --> 00:35:04.989
a difference and means a whole hell of a lot
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00:35:05.070 --> 00:35:07.110
to me. But now it's time for me to get
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00:35:07.150 --> 00:35:10.570
back to work because as October approaches, we'll be publishing
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00:35:10.670 --> 00:35:14.110
more than just once a day. We'll have special novellas,
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00:35:14.449 --> 00:35:17.550
extra stories, all kinds of goodies for you to enjoy
417
00:35:17.650 --> 00:35:21.329
right here, so make sure you're subscribed. Now it's time
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00:35:21.369 --> 00:35:23.230
for me to get back to it. So many things
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00:35:23.269 --> 00:35:27.210
to record, including a very special Thursday Thrills with brand
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00:35:27.250 --> 00:35:30.349
new horror Halloween releases you will not want to miss.
421
00:35:30.409 --> 00:35:33.210
So see you tomorrow. For myself, for my executive producers,
422
00:35:33.269 --> 00:35:36.590
Rob Fields and bobbletopia.com, my producer, Dan Wilder, and my
423
00:35:36.650 --> 00:35:41.010
creepy composer, Ray Mattis, talk at you tomorrow. Thank you
424
00:35:41.070 --> 00:35:45.239
for listening. Make sure to find your way back next week.
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00:35:46.360 --> 00:35:51.329
But for now, you are safe. Trust me.
1
00:00:00.980 --> 00:00:05.500
Two masked thieves choose an elderly woman's house for an
2
00:00:05.679 --> 00:00:11.240
easy robbery the night before Halloween. Then a gun goes
3
00:00:11.460 --> 00:00:16.929
off and the woman just smiles. They came for her money.
4
00:00:17.589 --> 00:00:21.489
Now she's offering them candy and a lesson in why
5
00:00:21.609 --> 00:00:24.870
some doors should never be knocked on.
6
00:00:30.329 --> 00:00:37.899
Trick or treat. There's a chill in the air. Must
7
00:00:37.960 --> 00:00:56.750
be fall. Join me for a tale of Halloween. You
8
00:00:56.789 --> 00:01:03.439
will experience tales of horror, ghosts, and death. It is
9
00:01:03.539 --> 00:01:07.920
not recommended for the weak at heart, but who merely
10
00:01:07.959 --> 00:01:22.069
listens to warnings anyway. This is Weekly Spooky.
11
00:01:34.060 --> 00:01:40.450
Hello, my spookies. It's Wednesday. Not that it matters in October,
12
00:01:40.890 --> 00:01:44.709
when we have something spooky for you every day, sometimes
13
00:01:45.170 --> 00:01:48.780
more than once a day. I'm your host, Enrique Couto,
14
00:01:48.840 --> 00:01:51.340
and I'm so happy to have you here at my
15
00:01:51.939 --> 00:01:56.340
figurative front door, ringing the bell, asking for a treat.
16
00:01:57.120 --> 00:02:01.109
Because I've got one, just for you, courtesy of author
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00:02:01.189 --> 00:02:06.250
Charles Campbell. and his love for all things spooky, just
18
00:02:06.329 --> 00:02:09.560
like ours. So if you love the spooky side of
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00:02:09.659 --> 00:02:13.139
life and you haven't yet already, make sure you're subscribed
20
00:02:13.199 --> 00:02:15.949
on your favorite podcast app, and while you're at it,
21
00:02:16.259 --> 00:02:19.680
leave us a five-star rating on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.
22
00:02:20.180 --> 00:02:24.060
That way other spookies just like you will know they're
23
00:02:24.080 --> 00:02:28.090
in the right place. And don't forget, we'll be here
24
00:02:28.159 --> 00:02:33.069
through November and December giving you lots of holiday-themed fear
25
00:02:33.189 --> 00:02:36.750
to enjoy, and we're not going anywhere come the new year.
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We're in seven years of Weekly Spooky, about to embark
27
00:02:40.680 --> 00:02:43.960
on eight, and we have no plan of slowing down,
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including a brand new episode on Halloween Day. So make
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00:02:48.840 --> 00:02:52.280
sure you're subscribed, and thank you so much for the support.
30
00:02:52.360 --> 00:02:58.020
But now, as for tonight, get a little closer, my spookies.
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We're taking the long way to the house. Down the
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end of the road, a long dirt road, a secluded house,
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and an old woman who keeps to herself. Most of
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us would keep walking. Clement and Miller see something else.
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They see an easy target. They've brought Halloween masks, and
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one of them has brought a gun. Neither has brought
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much in the way of common sense, because here's the
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thing about picking a victim. You better know what exactly
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is opening that door. And when this woman looks at
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these boys, she doesn't look frightened. She looks interested. So
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get cozy, and let's head down to the valley. Trickster
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in Training by Charles Campbell October 30th, 2024 Fuck her feelings,
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Clement said as he flashed a devilish smile on Devil's Night.
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Maybe we shouldn't, I mean, she's old, Miller urged. You
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want to end up like your cousin? Clement asked, then
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pulled the pumpkin mask over his greasy, pimple-filled face. No,
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Miller replied through his skeleton mask. Okay then, don't be
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a pussy. Let's go, Clement said and glanced at his phone.
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It was almost ten o'clock. The teenage boys walked toward
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the long, dirt road. Felicia Fields stared from the attic's window.
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Her house was as secluded as she was. She was
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76 years old, but could pass for 56. Her long
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silver hair danced in the moonlight that filled the clean
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and well-kept attic. She had a curvy build, but not
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what people would consider fat. She was full-figured and pleasing
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to the eye, judging by the men that turned their
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heads on her rare public appearances. Felicia tilted her head
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back and breathed deeply. She smelled them. Those foolish boys.
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How much do you think she has? Miller asked. A
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shit ton, Clement replied, and felt for the glock in
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his back waistband to make certain It was still there.
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Can you be a little quieter, dipshit? You're breathing like
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a fat girl walking up a hill, Clement said. It's
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the mask. It's hard to breathe and see in this thing,
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Miller replied. Well, feel free to take it off. Oh, wait.
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Old Hag Fields, can you describe the perpetrators? Yes, one
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was wearing a pumpkin mask and the other one looked
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like a baboon's red ass and then the cops would
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know it was Miller Monroe, son of career criminal Willie
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Monroe and cousin to the deceased Bruce Monroe. Again, do
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you want to end up like your cousin? No, Miller meeked.
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Then shut the fuck up. Clement said as he led
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the way up the long, winding dirt road. The house
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was now in sight, and it looked so creepy in
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the full moonlight. Miller half expected to see bats circling about.
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The boys were now at the bottom of the front steps.
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Felicia opened the door. You're a tad early, aren't you, boys?
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She asked, trying to beat the crowd. Clement said. Miller
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remained silent. Well, aren't you supposed to say something? Felicia asked.
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Trick or treat, Miller said, just above a whisper, his
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voice cracking with fear. What was that? Felicia asked. Her
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voice had a sultry quality that made Miller squirm inside.
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Clement was not yet afraid and pulled the Glock. All tricks,
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you old bitty, Clement said and pointed the gun at
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Felicia's head. She laughed. This is when Miller knew they
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had fucked up. Let's go. We can't do this. Miller
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stopped mid-sentence, staring in disbelief. Clement fired the gun, but
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he truly didn't mean to. The Glock wasn't known to
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have a hair trigger, but Clement could get excited in
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the moment of being a bad boy. And that is
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what happened. The bullet hit Felicia clean in the forehead,
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and she smiled as blood sprayed for a couple of
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seconds before the gaping wound closed and healed itself. The
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boys heard the bullet hit the floor behind her. Anything
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she did to them now was justified, and she was
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going to do a lot. Fuck me, Clement said, and
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turned to run. Miller stood in shock as Felicia grabbed
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Clement by the back of his britches, lifted him into
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the air, and tossed him into a porch pillar with
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the effort of throwing a newborn kitten. The crunch of
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a clavicle and a fresh scream from Clement's lips brought
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a smile to Felicia's face. Don't you move, little boy,
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she hissed at Miller. He pissed himself, but fear made
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him stay put. All tricks, you say? I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
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let me go, Clement begged. You'd leave your friend behind?
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Felicia asked. Yeah, take him, just let me go. Clement replied.
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Some friend you are. Are you hearing this? What's your name?
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Felicia asked. M-M-Miller. You hear that? M-M-Miller? Your buddy would
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just let you die. Kinda like your cousin, huh? What?
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Miller asked. Take off that stupid mask, Felicia commanded. Miller did.
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Clement was writhing in pain. Felicia ripped the pumpkin mask
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from Clement's face. His nose was already swelling, and blood
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dripped from his lips caused by the jagged edges of
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his shattered teeth. You are one ugly fucker, aren't you?
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Stand up, Felicia said. I can't, Clement replied. Help your
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friend to his feet and come inside, Felicia ordered. Miller
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moved quickly to help Clement to his feet and oh
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so briefly glanced at the guns. lying on the porch,
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but knew better than to go for it. Clement was
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almost dead weight in Miller's arms, but he more or
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less drug him into the house behind Felicia. Miller knew
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there was no point in running. Maybe she would show
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him some kind of mercy. Miller drug Clement down a long,
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dark hallway. There was a light emitting at the very end.
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And as it drew closer, Miller's thoughts went back to
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his cousin. One year before Halloween night. Bruce, you ready?
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Clement asked. Yeah, ready to hit some licks. Bruce replied
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and flashed a grin at his younger cousin, Miller. My man.
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Clements said in his best Denzel voice. He paid Miller
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no mind. It was quickly approaching midnight, and the trick-or-treaters
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were off the streets. The boys approached Lenny Johnson's house,
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although Shaq would be a better description. He was the
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first of four targets, but he would be the first
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and last this evening. Back window. He keeps it cracked.
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Been watching for a few days, Bruce said. Hard to
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believe he has money, Clement added, judging by the condition
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of the shoebox-style home. Oh, he's loaded. Put your masks on,
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Bruce said. He climbed atop a couple of cinder blocks
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he found lying around in Lenny's yard and fully opened
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the cracked window. He climbed in first without a sound
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He found himself standing in a dark bedroom. Lenny's bedroom.
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He could hear Lenny peacefully snoring. Bruce turned to make
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sure Clement was quiet. They had decided to let Miller
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hang outside to be a lookout for any nosy neighbors or,
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even worse, a patrol car. It was Clement that fucked
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this up. He almost cleared the window. when a tip
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of his left sneaker caught the sill and he tumbled
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into the bedroom with a heavy thud. Who's there? Lenny
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shouted as he sat up straight. Bruce heard the bedside
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table drawer quickly slide open. The lamp flicked on and
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Bruce saw the heels of Clement's shoes scrambling back out
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the window he entered. He heard Clement shouting for Miller
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to run. He didn't get another word out before the
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slug from Lenny's. 357 turned his brain into scrambled spam.
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Bruce met his demise on Lenny's bedroom floor. The other
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boys got away scot-free. Clement would be sure that he
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had a gun for future burglaries, so this wouldn't be
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a problem going forward. But, in reality... It wouldn't matter
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when they met Felicia. Just after midnight, Halloween 2024, Clement
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blinked rapidly at the swinging light above his head. The
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air was acrid, and there was an unpleasant hum in
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his ears. His chest felt as if an elephant was
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sitting on it. His vision was blurry, and he ran
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his tongue across the jagged teeth, and that was a
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very unpleasant feeling. Trick or treat, the sultry voice whispered
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in his ear. Where's Miller? Don't worry about him. Guess
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you didn't learn your lesson last year, Felicia said. I'm sorry,
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just let me go. Clement pleaded. I'm going to give
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you a chance to live through this, Felicia said. She
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saw the glimmer of hope in Clement's eyes, and that
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made her happy. What do I have to do? Clement asked.
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You like the tricks, right? You like robbing people, right?
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Be honest, Felicia said. Yeah, I do. But I'll stop.
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Swear to God. Swear to me! Felicia screamed. Her eyes
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turned black as coal, and that scared the bejesus out
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of Clement. I swear to you. I swear to you. Good. Good.
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All you have to do is get up and walk out,
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she said, her iris returning to emerald green. I... I
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can't walk, Clement said. Then crawl. The door's right there.
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Felicia pointed behind her to the open door. Clement began crawling.
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Miller was standing just outside the door. listening as Felicia
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urged Clement to leave. She told him not to move
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a muscle, and he knew she was serious. He could
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hear Clement's fingernails scratching the floor as he crawled gingerly
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toward the door. Felicia stepped through and smiled. That's a
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good boy, she said, and held out her hand. Miller
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grabbed it and she led him down a dark corridor
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that was surprisingly long. There was noise at the end
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of the hallway, but it wasn't a noise he was expecting.
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It was his mother's voice. What? Miller asked. She can't
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hear you, but you need to listen, and listen well,
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you little shit. Felicia said. Miller opened the door, and
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it was the living room of the trailer he lived
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in with his mother and younger sister. There was a
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young police officer. He couldn't have been much more than
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21 years old. Miller's mother, Teresa, was crying, and his sister, Martha,
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was dressed in a princess costume. Martha's lips trembled as
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tears welled in her eyes as she watched her mother
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openly weep. Why is he so stupid? Miller, what have
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you done, my boy? Teresa asked, looking at the cop
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as if he were her kid. I'm so sorry for
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your loss, Mrs. Monroe. I know this is difficult to digest,
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but do you know who Miller was... hanging out with
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in the last 24 hours. Teresa rocked back and forth,
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seemingly staring through the cop. Clement, Martha said just above
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a whisper. Clement Booker? The cop repeated. Martha nodded. He
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heard the name before. They questioned him in relation to
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the Lenny Johnson break-in the year before. a break-in that
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resulted in the justified death of Bruce Monroe. But nothing
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could stick, and Lenny couldn't positively identify Clement. The cop
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was putting it together in his mind. He'd just come
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on board when all of that went down. Where's your dad?
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the cop asked Martha. Prison. He won't get out for
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another five years, is what Mama said. Martha answered. Miller
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turned to Felicia in shocked disbelief. She's grieving you, you
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little trickster in training. They're going to find your lifeless
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corpse tomorrow, and your mother and sister will grieve you.
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Martha will turn to the streets, and your mother will
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take some pills and end the hurt, all because you
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had to follow Clement. Your father was a piece of shit.
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Your cousin was a piece of shit. But you, you
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had a chance to rise above it all. Still, you
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chose to follow a bigger piece of shit. You both
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left your cousin to die, so that makes you a
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piece of shit too, Felicia said. Her eyes turned into
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black pools once again, but they didn't strike fear in Miller.
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He looked back into them. He believed she was trying
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to give him an out. Felicia's black nails grew out
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into long points. and saliva dripped from the corner of
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her lips. Wait here, you little shit, she said, and
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scampered back down the hallway, back toward Clement. Clement was
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almost to the door. His broken clavicle screamed at him
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to stop. His mouth was throbbing and his gums were
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swelling around the shards of teeth that remained in his head.
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He pushed. He pushed. He pushed because he didn't have
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a choice. Miller wasn't here to pick him up. Miller
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was probably dead is what Clement thought. He finally got
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one hand into the hallway. Clement? Trick or treat! Felicia shouted.
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She was nearly on top of him. Her silver hair
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was now black. She still had her sultry figure, but
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she moved quickly with the grace of a feline. She
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was shaking something He could hear loose items rattling around.
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I'm leaving, like you said. Please, just let me leave,
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Clement begged. Not until you eat your candy. Felicia's face
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suddenly appeared in front of Clement's. He could smell the
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sweetness of her breath. She put the bag of candy
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in between them. You can leave when you eat this
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whole bag of candy. Scout's honor, Felicia said. I... my
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mouth can't... I can't chew, Clement said. It's okay. There's
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no hard candy, and it's all taffy and chews. Here,
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let me help you with the first one, Felicia said,
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and pulled a small Tootsie Roll chew from the large,
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bat-covered trick-or-treat bag. Open up, Felicia commanded. Clement opened his
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swollen mouth as tears fell from his eyes. She popped
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in the Tootsie Roll. Now chew, she said. I can't.
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Fucking chew it, Clement! Chew it or I'm going to
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bite a hole in the side of your face! Felicia
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screamed and opened her mouth to reveal razor-sharp, pointed black teeth.
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Clement began to chew. His teeth were cutting his tongue
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and inner cheeks. It hurt so fucking much, but it
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was still better than getting bit in the face by
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this witch. And it hit him. That's what she was.
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Felicia was a fucking witch. She had to be. There
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was no other explanation. Where did you go wrong, Clement?
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Were you just... born this way, a victim of your upbringing,
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or were you just an evil little sperm that committed
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his first breaking and entering into your mother's egg? Felicia
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laughed and sprayed spittle in Clement's painful face. Clement swallowed
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the first Tootsie Roll almost whole after trying to soften
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it up as much as he could. Tootsie Rolls weren't
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exactly soft out of the wrapper. Those little bitches could
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be quite hard at first tell me clement does miller
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know about georgiana flowers the girl you killed two years
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ago clement's eyes widened how could she know she's a
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witch that's how she could know he was going to
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try to lie anyway i i never killed anybody he
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whispered it hurt to even talk Don't you fucking lie
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to me. Eat the candy. Clement reached into the bag
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and pulled out a banana-flavored Laffy Taffy. Under normal circumstances,
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he loved banana-flavored Laffy Taffy. He put it in his mouth,
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intent on swallowing it whole. Chew it! Chew it! Don't
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you dare swallow it! Felicia screamed. Clement's jaws moved up
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and down. as blood oozed from his closed lips. She
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was only nine. Did you find it fun? Was it
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a rush for you? Two years before, October 31st, Georgiana
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Flowers found herself separated from her brother, At the fat
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man's forest haunted house, she was dressed as a neon-colored
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skeleton with a rainbow-colored skirt and red headband. The colors
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went well with her strawberry blonde hair. Clement was following behind,
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but not too closely, with a wicked grin on his
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face underneath the werewolf mask. This haunt was really geared
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more toward high school-aged teenagers and above. The practical effects
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were pretty good for a small-town haunt. Fake blood, screams,
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and monsters galore were aplenty from start to finish. Georgiana
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screamed a few times. One of the female haunt actors
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broke character, grabbed her by the hand, and asked her
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if she was okay. It was her intent to walk
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her through the veiled curtain to safety if she wasn't.
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Georgiana didn't want to seem like a baby and politely declined.
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She told a little white lie, saying her brother was
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just ahead of her and she would be fine. The
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haunt actor nodded and went back to work. Clement moved
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quickly past them as they were chatting. He reached the
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end before Georgiana. He knew her older brother, Oscar, and
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he despised him. Oscar had beat Clement's ass on more
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than a couple of occasions, so he had a little
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treat planned for Georgiana. He placed himself just outside the
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haunt's exit. He scanned the area for Oscar, and thankfully
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didn't see the tall, muscular boy. Georgiana emerged. It was
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time to put on the act. Yuck! Clement said as
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he opened his bag. Georgiana glanced in his direction, and
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he took his shot. Hey, can you come here for
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a second? She paused and noticed all the people standing around,
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and decided to see what the werewolf was looking at
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in the bag. Hi, what's wrong? Georgiana asked. Nothing really,
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but I went trick-or-treating before coming here and Somebody gave
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me a whole bunch of Tootsie Rolls. I hate Tootsie Rolls.
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I'm a werewolf, Clement said and howled. Georgiana laughed. Look,
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I got a handful of these things. You want them?
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He asked, nodding toward her trick-or-treat bag. Sure, if you
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don't like them, she answered. I really don't, Clement replied
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and placed the Tootsie Rolls in her bag. No sooner
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did he give her the candy, Clement heard the unmistakable
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voice of Oscar quickly approaching. Hopefully, she'd share this shit
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with him. Georgiana, get over here, girl! Her attention went
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away from the werewolf and focused on her brother. Clement
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slithered away like the snake he was. Later that night,
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Georgiana was tired. Her brother brought her home before darting
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back out for some late-night antics with his buddies. Her
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parents were fast asleep, and Georgiana was alone in her room.
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She was showered in her PJs and ready for bed.
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She was about to turn off her desk lamp and
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hit the sack, but she paused. She looked at her
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trick-or-treat bag and thought,' Why not?' Georgiana pulled three small
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Tootsie Rolls from the bag and ate them, one behind
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the other, before turning off the light. Her mother would
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find her dead the next morning. Clement poisoned the candy,
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and Georgiana died in her sleep. They would never know
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who killed her, but Felicia knew as soon as she
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smelled him. Miller had time to think. He heard Clement scream,
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but that was okay. If she let him live, he'd
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cut out all of this shit He'd help his mother.
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He'd be a role model for his sister. He would
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turn his life around. He would. He would be a
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better man. Miller was a reluctant criminal. Peer pressure and
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fear were factors, but he now realized they could not
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be excuses. Did he want to end up like Bruce? No,
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he did not. Felicia watched in glee as Clement kept chewing.
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The pain in his eyes was exciting her. Please let
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me leave. Clement could barely speak now. His mouth was
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all kinds of torn up. She was nine. You're the
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worst piece of shit out of all of them, Felicia said.
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She circled around the broken boy lying on the floor
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in front of her. Saliva flowed like a faucet from
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her mouth. She was getting worked up. Her mother, her brother,
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grieving such a pretty little girl so full of life
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to get snuffed out by a little shit like you.
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If you wanted to get back at her brother, why
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not confront him like a man? That's right, you're not
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a man. You're a little shit, a little shit that's
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about to get flushed because you ain't finishing that bag
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of candies. I'll give you a choice. You can redeem
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yourself and tell me to let Miller go and kill you,
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or you can crawl out of here the way you
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are now. You don't have to eat the candy, and
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I'll kill the boy that hasn't done the shit you have.
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So pick. Kill Miller, Clement mumbled. Nah. Trick, motherfucker! Felicia
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howled and sank her nails into both of Clement's cheeks.
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Flesh ripped as she lifted him to meet her gaze.
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Blood poured from his eyes and... She smiled. The razor-sharp
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teeth ripped his throat clean out, and she dropped him
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back on the floor. The sickening gurgling of Clement's last
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breaths filled the room. The world... was a better place.
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Miller heard the scuffle in the distance, and then there
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was silence. The hair on the back of his neck
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stood on end. He could feel her approach and braced
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for his fate. Miller kept his eyes closed. I'm going
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to let you go. Say nothing about me or this place.
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Do better. If you don't, I'll be watching. Now open
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your eyes and get the fuck out of here, you
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little shit, before I change my mind. Miller didn't have
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to be told twice. Thank you, he said, and left.
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He went home to his mother and sister, and he
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did do better. The end. Well, my spookies, so much
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for easy money. A big spooky thank you to Charles
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00:33:40.170 --> 00:33:43.690
Campbell for this very scary story, and Charles has many
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00:33:43.789 --> 00:33:46.910
great stories here at Weekly Spooky, as well as at
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00:33:46.970 --> 00:33:51.990
his podcast, Horror 421. Find it on your favorite podcast app.
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You know, some people hand out full-sized candy bars, but Felicia...
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She likes to hand out consequences, and you know, I
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respect that. And remember, by the way, a mask may
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be able to hide your face, but it really can't
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hide what you've done. So keep that in mind, and
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thank you all so much for joining me. Of course,
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I'll be back tomorrow with a brand new Thursday Thrills
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00:34:16.369 --> 00:34:19.469
all about Clinton Road, so don't miss it. And I
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want to say thank you all so much for heading
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00:34:21.449 --> 00:34:25.090
to weeklyspooky.com slash join and supporting us for as little
399
00:34:25.130 --> 00:34:27.900
as $ 1 a month. It really does make a huge
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00:34:27.960 --> 00:34:31.199
difference for the show. There are over 90 Spookys supporting us,
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00:34:31.719 --> 00:34:33.519
and now's a great time for you to join up
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00:34:33.579 --> 00:34:35.969
as well. And speaking of, I want to say an
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00:34:36.110 --> 00:34:39.849
extra special thank you to our Patreon podcast boosters. Those
404
00:34:39.889 --> 00:34:41.889
are folks who pay just a little bit more to
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00:34:41.929 --> 00:34:43.929
hear their names at the end of the show. And
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00:34:43.969 --> 00:34:48.199
they are Johnny Nix, Kate and Lulu, Jessica Fuller, Mike Eschewy,
407
00:34:48.300 --> 00:34:51.920
Jenny Green, Karen Wemet, Jack Kerr, and Craig Cohen. Thank
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00:34:51.960 --> 00:34:53.400
you all so much, and if you want to hear
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00:34:53.440 --> 00:34:55.840
your name at the end of every episode of Weekly Spooky,
410
00:34:56.280 --> 00:34:58.940
just head to weeklyspooky.com slash join and sign up at
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00:34:58.960 --> 00:35:02.590
the $ 15 a month or higher tier. It really makes
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00:35:02.639 --> 00:35:04.989
a difference and means a whole hell of a lot
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00:35:05.070 --> 00:35:07.110
to me. But now it's time for me to get
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00:35:07.150 --> 00:35:10.570
back to work because as October approaches, we'll be publishing
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00:35:10.670 --> 00:35:14.110
more than just once a day. We'll have special novellas,
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00:35:14.449 --> 00:35:17.550
extra stories, all kinds of goodies for you to enjoy
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00:35:17.650 --> 00:35:21.329
right here, so make sure you're subscribed. Now it's time
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00:35:21.369 --> 00:35:23.230
for me to get back to it. So many things
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to record, including a very special Thursday Thrills with brand
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00:35:27.250 --> 00:35:30.349
new horror Halloween releases you will not want to miss.
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00:35:30.409 --> 00:35:33.210
So see you tomorrow. For myself, for my executive producers,
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00:35:33.269 --> 00:35:36.590
Rob Fields and bobbletopia.com, my producer, Dan Wilder, and my
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00:35:36.650 --> 00:35:41.010
creepy composer, Ray Mattis, talk at you tomorrow. Thank you
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00:35:41.070 --> 00:35:45.239
for listening. Make sure to find your way back next week.
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But for now, you are safe. Trust me.
