He spent hours decorating their farmhouse for Halloween. He placed the biggest, most perfect pumpkins on the patio steps. He hung up little skull-faced fairy lights around the windows. He even lined the path leading from the main road to the farmhouse with candles.

It was nearly midnight when he finished. He took a step back, surveyed all his artistic work. When he was satisfied he went into the house, grabbed himself a well-deserved beer. His wife often said he drank too much, but he always brushed her off.

He was chugging happily when she burst into the room and screamed, "What the hell have you done with the children?"

He just grinned, a big Joker smile, and pointed to the lawn. She must have seen the blood splatters and ribbons of torn skin dirtying her pristine floor.

His smile widened when she howled like a wounded animal and covered her mouth with her hands. All four of their children hung among the Halloween decorations, swinging gently from four Herculean maple trees making everything so delightfully spooky.