Half Moon Falls

I was only thirteen when my life came to an end. My real life, I mean. In the summer, when tourists stop at the gift shop, they smile and tell me I must be the luckiest kid in the world. They go on about the beaches, campgrounds, parks, hiking trails and bicycle paths that are all just so beautiful they can’t wait to tell their friends. ‘Half Moon Falls is simply one of the very, very best places to spend a vacation.’ they say. I smile and nod. But I know better.Because after they’ve all gone home, this quaint little town becomes a very different place. A place where shadows stalk lost travelers, where shuttered storefronts, empty streets and chain locked gates bid no one welcome, where ripped and tattered “Welcome to Half Moon Falls” banners flap wildly in sub-zero winds like ancient battle flags. It is at this time of year we huddle in terror as the sirens blare and the Harkeners roam the streets.