A Dash of Halloween

Chapter 1

Chapter One

T he "Welcome to Oriskany Falls" sign loomed before Dash Reeves, its cheerful pumpkin decorations grinning at him with unsettling enthusiasm. He white-knuckled the steering wheel, a mix of apprehension and resignation settling in his stomach as he crossed the town's threshold. The quaint main street that unfolded before him was a riot of orange and black, an assault on the senses that made him blink in disbelief.

Storefronts were festooned with gossamer cobwebs that shimmered in the autumn sunlight. Jack-o'-lanterns leered from every corner, their carved grins seeming to mock Dash's discomfort. He had no doubt, if he'd had the windows down he'd be assaulted by the ghastly smell of cinnamon and pumpkin spice. God, he hated pumpkin spice.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dash muttered, carefully navigating around a group of enthusiastic locals hanging a "31 Days of Halloween" banner across the street. A gust of wind sent dry leaves skittering across his windshield, momentarily obscuring his view. "It's only October 1st, for crying out loud."

This was precisely why he'd been hesitant about moving to a small town. Everything seemed to be everyone's business, and apparently, Halloween was Oriskany Falls’ raison d'être. Dash sighed. He'd been thrilled to get the job offer. The pay was three times what he made before, and his contract said he could work remotely. Then he read the fine print.

He needed to live within a ten minute drive of the main office in case of emergency, and this was the only town fitting that requirement. Who built their headquarters in the middle of nowhere. It was like the company specifically created the job so the new hire had to live in Oriskany Falls.

The raise and the significantly lower cost of living compared to the city made taking the job a smart choice. Faced with the town's overwhelming Halloween spirit, he began to second-guess that decision.

Another wrong turn and he was forced to drive down narrow, leaf-strewn streets that all seemed to blur together in a maze of autumnal colors and Halloween decorations. Dash finally found his new apartment building. The Victorian-style house, its faded elegance a testament to a prior time, had been converted into units. It was also mercifully free of decorations.

Hauling the last of his boxes up the creaky stairs, their protests echoing in the empty stairwell, Dash paused to catch his breath. His "cozy" one-bedroom apartment was a far cry from his sleek city loft, but it had way more character.

He unpacked his workstation onto the old wooden desk the company provided. The company told him they'd supply him a desk and Dash expected a brand new, flimsy, pressed board desk, not this sturdy antique piece. The company certainly did things in their own style, and if he hadn't seen their quarterly reports, he wouldn't believe they'd be profitable.

Quirky was fine for what they paid him. He'd even live with the side of Halloween madness.

Organizing his place took most of the day. He'd wanted to go for a run to see the town better, but his growling stomach forced Dash to shelve the run and head out in search of food. Pulling up restaurants near him on his phone, he trotted down the still creaky stairs and braved the explosion of decorations.

Walking down the main street, he dodged enthusiastic shopkeepers who seemed determined to drag every passerby into their Halloween-themed stores. The sidewalks were crowded with locals, their animated chatter about costume plans and candy selections grating on Dash's nerves.

"You look lost, dear," cackled a not-so-old woman who dressed as a witch, complete with a warty prosthetic nose that looked disturbingly real. "Care for a potion to help you find your way?" She thrust a vial of murky green liquid towards him, its contents swirling ominously.

"No, thank you," Dash replied, quickening his pace. This town was like a perpetual costume party, and he hadn't RSVP'd. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was trapped in some bizarre holiday-themed "Twilight Zone" episode.

As he turned a corner, seeking escape from the festive madness, Dash found himself face to face with an imposing wrought-iron gate. Beyond it loomed a magnificent Victorian mansion, its windows dark and uninviting, like vacant eyes staring into his soul. Tendrils of mist seemed to curl around the foundation, despite the clear autumn day. A weathered sign swung gently in the breeze: "Blackwood Manor - Oriskany Falls’ Premier Haunted House Experience."

Dash snorted, a mix of derision and unease coloring the sound. Of course, the town would have a haunted house attraction. He was about to turn away when a flicker of movement caught his eye. A figure emerged from the shadows of the porch, and Dash lingered to get a better look.

The man who approached the gate was handsome and hot. Wavy black hair framed a face that belonged on magazine covers. He had incredible green eyes that were fixed on Dash with a curiosity that sought entrance to his soul.

Dash blinked at the crazy thoughts the town induced. The guy was hot, not a mutant mind reader.

In the time it took Dash to clear his mind of weirdness, hot guy had nearly reached the gate. He moved with a fluid grace that seemed at odds with his vintage Victorian- inspired clothing. Gothic wasn't a look Dash favored, but it looked great on the guy.

"Hey," the man called out. The voice was friendly, but it sent a shiver down Dash's spine. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you here for a sneak peek of the haunted house?"

It took Dash a second to realize the guy hadn't come to check him out, but thought he was a potential customer. "No. I just moved here and I was exploring. Looking for food actually."

The man's face lit up with a dazzling smile that seemed to brighten the gloomy atmosphere around the manor. "A newcomer! Well, welcome to Oriskany Falls. I'm Slate Blackwood, and this—" he gestured grandly to the mansion, "—is my humble abode and place of business."

"Dash Reeves," he said, extending his hand through the gate. As Slate shook it, Dash felt a jolt that had nothing to do with static electricity. Slate's hand was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to emanate from the house behind him.

"Dash?" Slate raised an eyebrow. "That's an unusual name."

Not the first time Dash got that response, but it was better than asking if he was super-fast. "It's a nickname. My real name is Morten, which proves parental cruelty is alive and well."

"At least you have a decent nickname." Slate frowned for a moment. "Try growing up as Slate Blackwood. My parents thought it would be 'unique' to have a color in my first and last names. Kids at school called me 'Chalkboard.' That's not a name I planned to keep."

They both laughed, and the weird vibe Dash had been feeling dissipated a little. Which had nothing to do with the hot guy holding his hand, he told himself.

"So, Dash," Slate said, finally releasing his hand. "What brings you to our little Halloween haven?"

"Work. I was hired by EcoCode Solutions to write software that optimizes pretty much any machine to reduce their carbon footprints."

"Wow," Slate said. "Guess I should call you Dr. Dash cause you're so smart."

Before Dash could answer, a crash from inside the house made Slate turn, a flicker of what looked like genuine alarm crossing his features. "Shoot, I've got to run. But hey, why don't you stop by tomorrow? I'll give you the grand tour, maybe even let you peek behind the curtain of our famous haunted house."

"Um... sure. What time?"

Slate was backing up toward the house. "Come by around eleven. And try the chicken potpie at the diner. You won't be sorry."

With a wink that made Dash's heart skip a beat, Slate spun around and disappeared back into the shadows of Blackwood Manor. The gate creaked ominously in the sudden gust of wind, and for a moment, Dash could have sworn he heard a faint, otherworldly whisper carried on the breeze.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where Slate had vanished, wondering if he'd imagined the entire encounter. The logical part of his brain insisted this was just an elaborate marketing ploy for the haunted house, but a smaller, more intuitive part of him wasn't so sure.

Dash finally turned away from Blackwood Manor, shaking his head. The town's obsession with Halloween was a bit out there, but Slate was hot. He also told Dash to come back the next day. It wasn't a date, but it never hurt when a hot guy asked you to come visit.