SVU Scares: “Peapag”

Submission by Malachi Palmer

To whom it may concern,

Humans are the monsters. And not in some eye-catching, read-my-letter-I-beg-you way. No, I mean it.

Humans are all obsessed with the idea of monsters because in the act of creating them they express something deeply… human, and oh, if they aren’t obsessed with themselves. The behaviors and characteristics that make a monster are those that humans deem to be monstrous when they see them displayed by themselves. Monsters are just humans with unappealing decoration. It all comes from within them. Their gods, their devils, their worst nightmares are all them. Except me.

I’m watching as they take my kind and mutilate them. They use their tools of torture to carve faces into them. They do it in groups. They laugh. They put their crimes against nature on display for others in contests, they get prizes for the prettiest mutilations. Candy bars. They mutilate for candy bars.

Halloween. On a Sunday. They don’t see the irony, because they never do. I wonder how they split their brains enough to worship their gods and their monsters on the same day. Of course, it really doesn’t matter because no matter which it is you’re worshipping, you’re just worshiping the deepest, most secret desires of humanity.

No, reader, (if this is ever read)… Did you just write that? Never mind, just keep writing whatever I say and your face will receive a pretty carving.

No, reader, I don’t claim that humans are the monsters because it’s going to get me a little more attention. It’s just true. Humans make the monsters. One day I want them to know they made me, too.

Respectfully,

“And, uh… I can’t read who it’s from.” said Todd.

“Lemme see.” Packer said, pulling the letter from Todd’s hand. See, Packer went to college, or at least a couple years of it. He was consistently and reliably the smartest person in the room in any room in any building in the town of Dimlight. Lucky for them he was a cop. “Says, uh… Peapag?” he squinted, “Not sure, I don’t have my glasses and it’s all shaky.”

“Peapag?” asked Todd.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t write it.” Packer said, crumpling the paper. They got these prank letters every year on Halloween.

“I gotta say,” Todd said, shoving a donut with orange icing into his mouth, “The kids who write these are losing their touch. You remember the one from a couple years ago, what was it…”

“Eighty-six, yeah,” Packer knew exactly what Todd was talking about. “That one was spooky.”

“Yeah, with the blood on the letter and everything.”

“Yeah. Well, what say we hop in the cruiser and do our jobs. Someone’s gotta keep papa pea or whatever his name was in his place.”

“Yeah.” Todd grunted as he laboriously hefted his large behind from his chair. Then he added, “This orange icing is disgusting.”

There was nothing to see in the streets, quite literally. Packer drove incredibly slow so he could stop when the children inevitably ran in front of the cruiser. The only lighting was that emitting from the front porch lights that actually still worked.

“Parents need to keep their kids on the sidewalks. They’re there for a reason, am I right.” Todd sighed.

“Right is right.” Packer agreed.

There was some obnoxious music coming from a house at the end of the street. Monster mash, purple people eater, the classic Halloween party music. He didn’t like it as a kid and he didn’t like it now, but nobody had complained about it so he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Hey, cruiser two.” Sally’s voice emitted from Todd’s radio.

“Yeah, Sally.” Todd replied.

“There’s someone calling from over on Grove Avenue, say they got someone walking around in the woods behind their house.”

“Give us the address, we’ll head over.”

After a short drive they arrived at the residence. It was a two-story home at the end of the street. The old porch light flickered, revealing an abnormally large array of jack-o-lanterns.

“What do ya think.” said Todd, slamming the car door.

“The pumpkins?”

“No, someone in the woods.”

“A kid. Someone trying to scare someone.”

Todd nodded and led the way to the front door.

Packer didn’t say, but he thought it was uncharacteristically quiet on the street, aside from the Halloween music that could still be heard from a couple of streets over. It was a dark street. Maybe parents didn’t want their kids running around in less light than they already were. After all, Packer had to leave the headlights on just to light the way to the front door.

Smack.

“What’s that?” asked Todd.

“Something out back, sounds like.” Packer replied, slightly concerned about it. It was something heavy, hitting something else heavy.

Todd approached the door and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

There was no noise from inside.

Smack.

“Let’s check out back.” Packer said.

Packer heard Todd take an uneasy breath.

Something was off, that was for sure. The residents were expecting Packer and Todd to show up. It hadn’t been long, either, since they called. They probably decided to go out back and see what was going on for themselves.

Smack.

The noise was getting louder as they walked around the house.

“Anyone back there?” Todd shouted.

No answer.

Then a strange, slick, almost squishy noise. And then smack.

“Somethin’s up.” Todd mumbled.

Packer nodded, and did something that he’d only done once before in his career as a cop. He placed his hand over his firearm. And then they turned the corner of the house.

There were pieces of broken siding all long the ground, and among them were scattered chunks of pumpkin flesh and seeds.

Smack!

A pumpkin exploded right next to Packer’s head, and he did the unthinkable. He drew his weapon and pointed it in the direction that the pumpkin had come from.

“Don’t shoot me!” screamed a hoarse voice. It wasn’t a plea… it was something else.

“Step out into the light!” Todd yelled.

“Don’t shoot me!” the voice screamed again.

“Step into the light!” Packer yelled.

Then, slowly, someone emerged from the dark woods. Whoever it was was still holding a pumpkin.

“Drop the pumpkin!” Packer shouted.

“Don’t shoot me!” screamed the voice. And then, as it emerged, it became clear that the figure wasn’t holding a pumpkin… “You made me!” it screamed.

And then the monstrosity stood up. The same, slimy, unsettling noise from before emitted from it as some kind of mass of sinew and muscles, all wrapped around each other, raised its head. It had been on all fours before, but now it was clear that it wasn’t holding a pumpkin, rather it had stuffed some of its sinew inside of a carved out jack-o-lantern. The thing was easily ten feet tall.

“Shoot it!” yelled Todd, unloading his weapon on it.

Packer pulled the trigger, but the safety was on, and then he froze. The thing was charging them, on all fours again, shoving it’s sharp-ended legs and arms into the ground as it ran.

“I said don’t shoot me!” it screamed, barreling past Packer and shoving one of its arms straight through Todd.

Todd let out a scream, and the monster matched it with his own. Then the jack-o-lantern face turned toward Packer, and Packer ran.

“You made me!” shouted the monster, but by the sound of it it wasn’t following Packer. If he was lucky it was taking its time with Todd.

Packer raced to the cruiser and put it in drive. He hit the gas and radioed dispatch. “Dispatch, we got-“

Then a cacophonous explosion of noise. The was metal bending, glass shattering, tires popping. The monstrosity had wrapped itself around the car. Its pumpkin face was resting on the hood, staring at Packer.

“Get away!” Packer yelled, whipping out his pistol. He didn’t shoot, though. He saw what that had done for Todd.

“Let me show you…” the words slithered out of the thing.

Then Packer was lifted off the ground, and the car was turned around. The monster made it so the headlights were shining toward the front porch of the house next to where they had found it.

“LOOK!” it screamed.

“Okay, okay!” Packer screamed, tears beginning to roll.

Packer stared at the porch, but he couldn’t see anything. No, it wasn’t too dark. His brain was just frozen, and all he could think about was that he was about to have this thing’s arm shoved through his chest. He was already dead.

“I said LOOK!”

Packer was able to regain his senses for just a brief moment, and when he did he saw it. There on the porch were the heads of the family that lived there.

“I’m decorating…” again, the words slithered from the thing’s mouth and into Packer’s ears.

“Please!” was all he could manage, but before he could even finish the word the thing sped through the windshield and it was over.