Pumpkinhead

Maybe it's the lack of caffeine, or the alcohol withdraw that causes my brain to mush obscure ideas together, but last night I was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

Per usual, I am surrounded by people I have never met, but house sitting at my Aunt and Uncles in my hometown.

I know it's their house because I have many fond memories of visiting that house over the years.

The people I am with leave with my brother. 

I am alone.

I hear a weird noise and visit the basement. 

The basement is not their remodeled downstairs.  Instead, it is a small dark room with a red tint.  There may even be red light bulbs in the muted ceiling lights. 

Fake cobwebs and blood splatters decorate the walls while two strobe lights flicker in separate corners of the room.

Cluttered through out the room are old pinball machines and arcade games with a horror motif.  They overwhelm the room with noise and start to bother me.

It isnt' until I am fully in the room that I spot a new game called "Pumpkinhead" in the middle.

It is a large, box like, arcade game with a tiny door as high as my knee.  Above the little door is a bubble glass window that displays a pair of lanky, scaley arms with long boney fingers.  Its nails are like razors.  I move closer to the game to investigate.  I try and locate what's in the machine, but I can't seem to figure out what the arms are connected to.  There's something inside.

A giant red button reading "PUSH ME" flashes.

Intrigued, I do so, causing the machine to wiggle and gyrate.  It makes a loud screeching noise until the arms melt into a thick purple goo, and splatter against the inside of the bubble glass.

This scares me.

I run upstairs. 

The people are back, and find out why I'm scared.

They ignore my warnings and rush downstairs.

I return to the basement to make sure every one's all right.

Some kids are playing the other machines, but mostly there is a crowd around "Pumpkinhead."

Anytime someone gets near the machine, strands of streamers, and punches of air pop out the front of the machine, scaring, and delighting the crowd.

I notice the tiny door open and a kid crawl out, laughing.

He tells everyone that they have to try the game to which another jumps inside and closes the door.

The crowd dispenses. 

Uneasy, I keep my eye on the machine before following them upstairs.

Minutes later, we hear a horrific scream from the basement and the sound of someone being ripped apart. 

Utter and complete fear paralyzes my body until I realize...

It's almost time to get up and go to work.