Spooktober is officially here!

This means I have all kinds of goodies coming out for you this month, including all the featured content from La Bella Collaborative: “Spooktober Submissions” series! I am so excited to share this featured content with you because the submissions received are PHENOMENAL! I can tell you that everyone who submitted poetry and/or short stories for this definitely put the work in to make their pieces great! I also cannot wait for you to read my own pieces inspired by the prompts from the submission call. If you like spooky season and Halloween, this month’s work will be absolutely delicious!

To me, October is like the encore to fall… and as a writer and reader, I love all the stories and content that come out at this time of year! I have never been a fan of real horror movies and gory stuff on tv (shout out to that one sleepless week my brother wanted me to watch ALL of the Freddie Krueger movies with him), but I remember loving spooky stories since I was a child. Ghost stories, spooky pirate tales, and the original Grimms fairy tales have been some of my favorite stories to return to. A common thread in my easiest-to-write short stories has been a hint of the spooky and whimsy around the unknown. I’ve also been getting into some of that haunting creepy-ness in some of my poems. Whatever has brought you here, I hope you find some pleasure in the pieces being shared this spooky season! To kick us off, I’d like to share two previously written short stories of mine below! You can read an excerpt here below the title. Click the title to get to the entire story!

“At Hells Gate: The Ritual” by Bella L.

Everything was ready for the ritual. 

Boris checked his phone. It wasn’t quite time yet. He rifled through his brown bag looking for his troll. The troll was elusive, and the sky was not yet bright enough to see into the bag clearly. Boris twisted the bag shut for fear of losing his troll altogether.

“Psst…. pssst! Boris!“

Boris jerked his head to the left towards a large bush. He could not see anyone there, and yet his name was hissed so very clearly by a familiar voice.

“Boris! Don’t you hear me? Get in here!” The voice hissed again. This time, Boris saw slitted yellow eyes blinking back at him from the bush. “P-pe-penny? is that you?” Borris whispered, inching closer to the bush.

“It’s me too- Bishop! Get in here!” Two hands swiftly grabbed Borris and yanked him into the bush. Boris crashed in, his face smacked with branches and sharp leaves before landing on the hard dirt under the dome of shrubbery. He blinked through the tears stinging the scratches on his cheeks. “OW!” 

“SHHHHHH!” Bishop covered Boris’ mouth with her tiny palm. Penny, Boris’ cat, began to purr and rub against Boris’ hands with her cheeks. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Boris saw Bishop’s stern face covered in dirt. This was most unusual, as the Bishops were very clean and proper people. They would never allow their children to get their hands dirty- and certainly never their faces! Bishop slowly removed her hand from over Boris’ mouth and brushed her palm on a dirty brown cloak. She reached down and picked up Penny, who did not protest but stopped purring immediately. Bishop looked very serious. The amount of power and demanding demeanor her presence came with was… Read the rest of the story here!

“Tale Of The Pumpkin King” By Bella L.

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. I hadn’t seen the outside world in what Davis said was almost 9 months. Last time mother nature was wrapped under a thick blanket of white snow, wearing her finest trees with ice-laced branches. Today, she was engulfed in bold color, not a monochrome shadow in sight. I turned towards the hills. My heart began pounding as if to escape from its prison behind my rib cage. I gasped at the sight of red, yellow, and orange-licked trees- All of the hills a fiery mirage. I could feel my blood warm as the smell of boiling sap tingled my nose. Maybe that was just my mind playing tricks on me…. but I could swear the scent was so sweet, I could almost taste it.

I was so eager for that sweet syrupy taste… Anything to replace the palpable damp and mildewy memories of that dark basement. The taste of rotted and burned pumpkin would haunt me… Even the cherry lime jello they fed me at the hospital could not rid my mouth of that taste. A tear spilled past my lashes, sliding its way to a quivering bottom lip after rolling down a wind-chapped cheek. I tried to compose myself, but these floodgates would not hold. I broke into sobs. Who knew that this is what freedom would bring? Such vivid emotions accompanied by nature’s fire-lit brushes, painting the clear blue Vermont sky? I never thought I would feel anything but fear and numbness again- even after seeing Davis’s sweet disheveled face.

Among the distant chatter of staff standing outside Sweet Haven Rehabilitation’s front doors, I heard footsteps crunch slowly on the pavement behind me. A warm hand gently landed on my shoulder. In more recent months, I would have flinched at the touch. Today- it felt like a welcome weight that comforted and grounded me. I wiped my tears away with the sleeves of Grandma’s favorite sweater and turned towards Davis. He had brought it (along with some jeans, chucks, and a beanie) with him so I would have something to replace that ugly grey jumpsuit. That… wretched… wretched… jumpsuit. I felt my thoughts darken around the edges of my mind slightly. It felt like the darkness wanted to swallow me up again for… Read the rest of the story here!


*Have you written a spooky piece lately? Share a link to it in the comments below! I’d love to read along!