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Description
Halloween a day like no other. It just so happens that Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love the atmosphere, and the creepiness of the holiday.  But sadly my house wasn't one of the houses that got many visitors. It wasn't the fact that I didn't have enough decorations, or anything like that. It had nothing to do with that…It was Mr. Rogers….Mr. Rogers always attracted the most visitors to his place. His decorations were always the best on the block, and it just so happens that I lived across the street from him. That was the reason why I didn't get much vistors at my house. I remember last year that when he had his haunted house. It was such a awesome site to see from the outside, considering I was trying to give out candy, I didn't bother to go in. I could hear the kids and even some adult's scream from the inside. It brought a smile to my face, to hear their screams, knowing that that was the spirit of the holiday.

The day before Halloween while everyone is at work or at school; I saw Mr. Rogers putting out his Halloween decorations. I quickly ran over to his house to talk to him, "So what's the theme this year?" I asked.
"The dead, of course just as it is every year."

I raised one eyebrow, as I remembered that Mr. Rogers didn't have much of a sense of humor. I hardly even spoke to the guy, and it seemed like the only time he ever came outside was this time of year. Even in the summer time he would have someone come, and cut his grass, he wouldn't even come outside when he paid the guy. The guy would come inside to get his money. Rumor has it that Mr. Rogers even has a stay at home job, just like myself. Being a writer isn't easy, with all the deadlines, and such, but I manage. Mr. Rogers knew that I was a writer; in fact everyone in town knew I was, but they never discussed it with me.

"So your not doing anything new this year?" I asked.
"Are you kidding? Why would I this is what the people want.  And, what the people want the people get."
The tone in his voice scared me a little so I stepped back away from his fence a little bit.
"Do you need any help with this?" I asked him, as he hung one of the decorations up in the tree. As he hung the gutted decoration up in the tree, the fake blood oozed out from the wounds of the decoration, even the hook that Mr. Rogers put through the decorations head.
"No, thanks…I prefer to do my work…Alone."
"Okay, well-"
"Tim! I appreciate you trying to help, but all your doing is bugging the hell out of me. So why don't you go back inside, and write, or something."

I slowly walked away from Mr. Rogers fence, wondering why he had to be such a jerk sometimes. I don't know if it was the time of the year, or if he just didn't like me in general, but whatever the reason was he kept it to himself.

Whatever the reason was I tried to not let it bug me. Instead of even trying to give out candy this year, I decided to do some late night writing. I turned off my porch light, opened up a bottle of Yuengling Lager beer, and let my fingers flow quickly on the keyboard. A hour into writing I had to turn some music on; the sound of children and adults screaming just ticked me off this year. I'm pretty sure it was due to the fact to what Mr. Rogers said to me. But before I could start up my music site, that I listen to music on, someone had rang the door bell.

I mumbled a curse word under my breath, as I left my domain of my office, and approaching my front door. I opened up the door saying," Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not giving out candy this year. Go over to Mr. Rogers I'm sure he'll give you a good scare, and some ca-" Before I was able to finish my sentence I was squirted in the face with fake blood, by my friends Robby.
"Hey, man why don't you come over to Mr. Rogers, I picked up this cool bleeding heart at his place. Haha."
"Shut, up man. I don't want to hear, speak, or even see Mr. Rogers right now." I said, pulling him into my house by his shirt, slamming my door behind him.
"Dude, what the hell is your problem?"
"Well, it was Mr. Rogers, but it's slowly becoming you if you keep talking about him. Mr. Rogers is a dick, man, that's all there is to it."
"Ah, I see…I know this is the right time to ask, but can I crash at your place?"
"Whatever, man. I really don't care, just as long as you don't interrupt my writing."  I said, grabbing a towel from my kitchen, whipping the fake blood off my face, which Robby squirted on me with his fake heart prop he got at Mr. Rogers.

As time passed the louder my Death Metal music got, as I wrote vigorously on my keyboard, and the more alcohol I consumed. I decided seems how it was making me tired the third bottle was my last bottle. After writing for two hours I decided I would take a break to grab something to eat. I took my headphones off my head, standing up for a good stretch, out of my computer chair. I looked over my shoulder to notice that Robby had fallen asleep on the couch. Before I made my way into the kitchen I stopped to notice that the screams from Mr. Rogers place had stopped. I walked over to blind in my computer room to notice that all his lights were off.
That's odd. I thought to myself, it's not even midnight yet. He usually keeps his place open late

Decided to see what was up I stepped out on my porch to snoop a little bit. Sure enough all the visitors had stopped coming to his house too. Now the only person outside was Mr. Rogers…He was taking down his props for some unknown reason. I never noticed him doing it any years before, but then again I wasn't a published Author last year, and I wasn't up this late last year for Halloween, so maybe he did. Either way I decided I would get some dirt on Mr. Rogers, so I decided I would sit on the dark side of my porch, to snoop a little bit more. Luckily I wore black half a lot so I blended in enough to where Mr. Rogers didn't see that I was on my porch.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he was down to his last prop to take down. I wait until he made his way inside to sneak over to his yard. I creeped my way over to one of his house windows to watch why he took down the props.  Something that struck as rather odd was that the prop he was dragging with him was leaving a blood trail on his carpet.

Why would he let the fake blood get on his floor, that stuff has to be a pain to clean up. I thought to myself, but as he kept moving with his prop, through his house I kept moving window from window, watching him every step of the way.

Another thing I thought was weird was that when he got the basement stairs he still didn't even bother to pick up the prop. The bloods from the prop still splattered everywhere as he dragged it down the stairs. I bent down to the window watching him through his basement window.
"What are you up to Mr. Rogers." I asked myself, as he finally picked the prop up on his shoulder, opening up a cooler in his basement…That's when it hit me. That's when I quickly found out how his props became so real. My eyes widen with shock, as I quickly stud up, hitting my head on the edge of the house, causing me to fling my arms up, letting one of my elbows to hit the window.

"Shit!" I muttered, quickly running back over to my house, quickly shutting and locking the door to my house.
"This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is some shit like I write for my novels. I'm still asleep, that's right. Yeah, that's it I some how fell asleep while writing. The booze! Yes, that had to have been what it was, all of the booze I had."

Robby let out a tired, stretch setting up on the couch," Dude, what's all the commotion about?" He asked.
"Robby I need you to tell me I'm asleep at my computer! Tell me a fell asleep at the keyboard."
Robby sat up slowly walking over to me," What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you freaking out so much?"
"I need you to get my cell phone and call the cops right now."

Before anyone could do anything there was a knock on the door. I looked through the door hole, hoping it wasn't Mr. Rogers, but sure enough it was. Robby looked through the curtains, seeing Mr. Rogers.
"Hey, it's Mr. Rogers." He said running over to the door, but I put my hand out to stop him," Robby listen to me Mr. Rogers isn't what he seems." I whisper to Robby, so that Mr. Rogers didn't hear me. Mr. Rogers knocked on the door louder this time.
"Dude what the hell is wrong with you? Open the door, man see what he wants."
"Don't open that door we could be his next prop if you do!"
"Do you mind explaining yourself?"
"Look I really can't-"  I was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
"Tim, I can hear you talking in there open up the door. I heard a loud thumping noise outside of my house, and I saw that your lights were on, are you okay in there?!" Mr. Rogers asked.

I started to walk away from the door, but before I could a sharp object came through the door stabbing me in the leg. I quickly fell to the floor.
"What the hell!" Robby yell.
"That's what  I told you! Mr. Rogers is a murder all of those decorations he was putting out were actually people! Now call the cops!"
"Shit!" Robby yelled, running over to the couch to grab his cell phone to dial 911. At the same time Mr. Rogers busted out one of my windows, coming through the window.
"So, who's going to be my next prop?" He asked, moving over toward Robby, who was on the phone with 911. I quickly pulled the knife out of my leg that Mr. Rogers stabbed me with, throwing it at him, hitting him in the shoulder.
"Your sick Halloween haunted house, and your ' Oh So Real Props' end tonight!" I yelled, using the wall to help me get back up to my feet.

Mr. Rogers pulled the knife out of shoulder, and walked slowly over to Robby.
"You! I'll start with you! I'll cut out your organs right here and then place your heart in a candy basket for props!"
"Like hell you will!" I yelled tackling Mr. Rogers to the ground punching him in the face, as Robby just stood there looking stupid.
"Don't just stand get something to tie him up! In the kitchen get the rope in the mess drawer. "

Robby ran into the kitchen, opening up the kitchen drawer, and scattered through the things in it to find some rope. I kept Mr. Rogers busy, by trading punches with him back and forth on the floor. After what seemed like forever Robby finally found the Robby. I got Mr. Rogers in the full nelson hold, as Robby wrapped him up in the rope.

Fifteen minutes later the cops showed up and we explained the whole thing to them.
"Well, Mr. Rogers what do you have to say for yourself?" One of the cops asked as they lead him out of the house.
"It's what the people wanted! And, what they wanted they got!"
"Tell that to the judge." The cop said taking him outside.

The sad thing is that Mr. Rogers was right. For years he had gotten away with killing people, and hanging them up outside as props. It was what the people wanted, and it kept them entertained for years, and it just so happens that I was the one to put an end to the neighborhoods amusement.

Description
Halloween a day like no other. It just so happens that Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love the atmosphere, and the creepiness of the holiday.  But sadly my house wasn't one of the houses that got many visitors. It wasn't the fact that I didn't have enough decorations, or anything like that. It had nothing to do with that…It was Mr. Rogers….Mr. Rogers always attracted the most visitors to his place. His decorations were always the best on the block, and it just so happens that I lived across the street from him. That was the reason why I didn't get much vistors at my house. I remember last year that when he had his haunted house. It was such a awesome site to see from the outside, considering I was trying to give out candy, I didn't bother to go in. I could hear the kids and even some adult's scream from the inside. It brought a smile to my face, to hear their screams, knowing that that was the spirit of the holiday.

The day before Halloween while everyone is at work or at school; I saw Mr. Rogers putting out his Halloween decorations. I quickly ran over to his house to talk to him, "So what's the theme this year?" I asked.
"The dead, of course just as it is every year."

I raised one eyebrow, as I remembered that Mr. Rogers didn't have much of a sense of humor. I hardly even spoke to the guy, and it seemed like the only time he ever came outside was this time of year. Even in the summer time he would have someone come, and cut his grass, he wouldn't even come outside when he paid the guy. The guy would come inside to get his money. Rumor has it that Mr. Rogers even has a stay at home job, just like myself. Being a writer isn't easy, with all the deadlines, and such, but I manage. Mr. Rogers knew that I was a writer; in fact everyone in town knew I was, but they never discussed it with me.

"So your not doing anything new this year?" I asked.
"Are you kidding? Why would I this is what the people want.  And, what the people want the people get."
The tone in his voice scared me a little so I stepped back away from his fence a little bit.
"Do you need any help with this?" I asked him, as he hung one of the decorations up in the tree. As he hung the gutted decoration up in the tree, the fake blood oozed out from the wounds of the decoration, even the hook that Mr. Rogers put through the decorations head.
"No, thanks…I prefer to do my work…Alone."
"Okay, well-"
"Tim! I appreciate you trying to help, but all your doing is bugging the hell out of me. So why don't you go back inside, and write, or something."

I slowly walked away from Mr. Rogers fence, wondering why he had to be such a jerk sometimes. I don't know if it was the time of the year, or if he just didn't like me in general, but whatever the reason was he kept it to himself.

Whatever the reason was I tried to not let it bug me. Instead of even trying to give out candy this year, I decided to do some late night writing. I turned off my porch light, opened up a bottle of Yuengling Lager beer, and let my fingers flow quickly on the keyboard. A hour into writing I had to turn some music on; the sound of children and adults screaming just ticked me off this year. I'm pretty sure it was due to the fact to what Mr. Rogers said to me. But before I could start up my music site, that I listen to music on, someone had rang the door bell.

I mumbled a curse word under my breath, as I left my domain of my office, and approaching my front door. I opened up the door saying," Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not giving out candy this year. Go over to Mr. Rogers I'm sure he'll give you a good scare, and some ca-" Before I was able to finish my sentence I was squirted in the face with fake blood, by my friends Robby.
"Hey, man why don't you come over to Mr. Rogers, I picked up this cool bleeding heart at his place. Haha."
"Shut, up man. I don't want to hear, speak, or even see Mr. Rogers right now." I said, pulling him into my house by his shirt, slamming my door behind him.
"Dude, what the hell is your problem?"
"Well, it was Mr. Rogers, but it's slowly becoming you if you keep talking about him. Mr. Rogers is a dick, man, that's all there is to it."
"Ah, I see…I know this is the right time to ask, but can I crash at your place?"
"Whatever, man. I really don't care, just as long as you don't interrupt my writing."  I said, grabbing a towel from my kitchen, whipping the fake blood off my face, which Robby squirted on me with his fake heart prop he got at Mr. Rogers.

As time passed the louder my Death Metal music got, as I wrote vigorously on my keyboard, and the more alcohol I consumed. I decided seems how it was making me tired the third bottle was my last bottle. After writing for two hours I decided I would take a break to grab something to eat. I took my headphones off my head, standing up for a good stretch, out of my computer chair. I looked over my shoulder to notice that Robby had fallen asleep on the couch. Before I made my way into the kitchen I stopped to notice that the screams from Mr. Rogers place had stopped. I walked over to blind in my computer room to notice that all his lights were off.
That's odd. I thought to myself, it's not even midnight yet. He usually keeps his place open late

Decided to see what was up I stepped out on my porch to snoop a little bit. Sure enough all the visitors had stopped coming to his house too. Now the only person outside was Mr. Rogers…He was taking down his props for some unknown reason. I never noticed him doing it any years before, but then again I wasn't a published Author last year, and I wasn't up this late last year for Halloween, so maybe he did. Either way I decided I would get some dirt on Mr. Rogers, so I decided I would sit on the dark side of my porch, to snoop a little bit more. Luckily I wore black half a lot so I blended in enough to where Mr. Rogers didn't see that I was on my porch.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he was down to his last prop to take down. I wait until he made his way inside to sneak over to his yard. I creeped my way over to one of his house windows to watch why he took down the props.  Something that struck as rather odd was that the prop he was dragging with him was leaving a blood trail on his carpet.

Why would he let the fake blood get on his floor, that stuff has to be a pain to clean up. I thought to myself, but as he kept moving with his prop, through his house I kept moving window from window, watching him every step of the way.

Another thing I thought was weird was that when he got the basement stairs he still didn't even bother to pick up the prop. The bloods from the prop still splattered everywhere as he dragged it down the stairs. I bent down to the window watching him through his basement window.
"What are you up to Mr. Rogers." I asked myself, as he finally picked the prop up on his shoulder, opening up a cooler in his basement…That's when it hit me. That's when I quickly found out how his props became so real. My eyes widen with shock, as I quickly stud up, hitting my head on the edge of the house, causing me to fling my arms up, letting one of my elbows to hit the window.

"Shit!" I muttered, quickly running back over to my house, quickly shutting and locking the door to my house.
"This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is some shit like I write for my novels. I'm still asleep, that's right. Yeah, that's it I some how fell asleep while writing. The booze! Yes, that had to have been what it was, all of the booze I had."

Robby let out a tired, stretch setting up on the couch," Dude, what's all the commotion about?" He asked.
"Robby I need you to tell me I'm asleep at my computer! Tell me a fell asleep at the keyboard."
Robby sat up slowly walking over to me," What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you freaking out so much?"
"I need you to get my cell phone and call the cops right now."

Before anyone could do anything there was a knock on the door. I looked through the door hole, hoping it wasn't Mr. Rogers, but sure enough it was. Robby looked through the curtains, seeing Mr. Rogers.
"Hey, it's Mr. Rogers." He said running over to the door, but I put my hand out to stop him," Robby listen to me Mr. Rogers isn't what he seems." I whisper to Robby, so that Mr. Rogers didn't hear me. Mr. Rogers knocked on the door louder this time.
"Dude what the hell is wrong with you? Open the door, man see what he wants."
"Don't open that door we could be his next prop if you do!"
"Do you mind explaining yourself?"
"Look I really can't-"  I was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
"Tim, I can hear you talking in there open up the door. I heard a loud thumping noise outside of my house, and I saw that your lights were on, are you okay in there?!" Mr. Rogers asked.

I started to walk away from the door, but before I could a sharp object came through the door stabbing me in the leg. I quickly fell to the floor.
"What the hell!" Robby yell.
"That's what  I told you! Mr. Rogers is a murder all of those decorations he was putting out were actually people! Now call the cops!"
"Shit!" Robby yelled, running over to the couch to grab his cell phone to dial 911. At the same time Mr. Rogers busted out one of my windows, coming through the window.
"So, who's going to be my next prop?" He asked, moving over toward Robby, who was on the phone with 911. I quickly pulled the knife out of my leg that Mr. Rogers stabbed me with, throwing it at him, hitting him in the shoulder.
"Your sick Halloween haunted house, and your ' Oh So Real Props' end tonight!" I yelled, using the wall to help me get back up to my feet.

Mr. Rogers pulled the knife out of shoulder, and walked slowly over to Robby.
"You! I'll start with you! I'll cut out your organs right here and then place your heart in a candy basket for props!"
"Like hell you will!" I yelled tackling Mr. Rogers to the ground punching him in the face, as Robby just stood there looking stupid.
"Don't just stand get something to tie him up! In the kitchen get the rope in the mess drawer. "

Robby ran into the kitchen, opening up the kitchen drawer, and scattered through the things in it to find some rope. I kept Mr. Rogers busy, by trading punches with him back and forth on the floor. After what seemed like forever Robby finally found the Robby. I got Mr. Rogers in the full nelson hold, as Robby wrapped him up in the rope.

Fifteen minutes later the cops showed up and we explained the whole thing to them.
"Well, Mr. Rogers what do you have to say for yourself?" One of the cops asked as they lead him out of the house.
"It's what the people wanted! And, what they wanted they got!"
"Tell that to the judge." The cop said taking him outside.

The sad thing is that Mr. Rogers was right. For years he had gotten away with killing people, and hanging them up outside as props. It was what the people wanted, and it kept them entertained for years, and it just so happens that I was the one to put an end to the neighborhoods amusement.