Fall Festival

‘Why are you bothering to carve that thing?’
‘We’re in England’s pumpkin capital, Liv. It’d be rude not to. Anyway, I’ll stick it on the porch - it’ll add to the atmosphere of the party.
‘What’s it meant to be?’
Gareth picked up the pumpkin and swivelled it round. Arched eyebrows rose above small eyes but it was the wide smile and long fangs that gave the game away.
‘A vampire? Hardly original.’
‘I’m no expert.’’
Picking up the knife Gareth winced as the blade slipped and nicked his finger. Red drops dripped onto the fangs.
‘Looks a bit more authentic now,’ Livy laughed.
That evening guests crunched over fallen leaves laced with the first frost of the season, anticipating a fun filled evening of comparing costumes, swapping ghost stories and enjoying pumpkin spiced beverages. Several guests took selfies with the bloody fanged vampire.
One visitor hung back until he was alone on the porch. He crouched down , lifted the pumpkin, sniffing and licking the dried blood stains.
‘Blood calls to blood,’ he whispered. ‘your invitation is graciously accepted.’
He slipped into the house unnoticed. Mingling with the guests he honed in on his host and prepared to slake his thirst.