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  • Writer's pictureKat Nikoletta Monroe

Day of the Dead

“Dia de Muertos! Vamanos!” Stinky exclaimed, waking us all from a late-afternoon nap. Christine and I promptly got up and got ready. We matched in jean skirts, black tops, and Day of the Dead makeup; a skully, yet flowery design in black and white face paint. Simple, yet part of the tradition. Stretch and Casper had rubbed black eyeshadow over their eyes in a drunken laughter. Fatso wore a t-shirt with a skeleton print, and howled happily at their antics. “Happy Halloween, guys!” Christine held out her wine glass, signaling a group-cheers. “What a great week it’s been, man…” Stretch reminisced. “I’ll say…” Casper approached me from behind. He pulled me back onto him, swept my hair aside, and kissed my neck. “You look cute, Kitty.” “Awww, aren’t you two ju-” I shot Christine a sharp look and cut her off. No need to get ahead of ourselves. We're acting all romantic because we’re on vaca… right? “Let’s hit the road!” One of them exclaimed.

The sound of jingling keys followed. “Nah, let’s walk it. It’s only 20 minutes away by foot.” Another said. “Yeah, but it’s Mexico…” “Christine, you can’t just say shit like that...” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I just don’t want to die.” “Yeah okay, and walking through a cemetery at midnight in a foreign city is no problem...?” “I SAID WHATEVER!”

It was chillier than I'd expected, yet the surrounding bonfires kept us warm as we walked through the cemetery; passing people chanting over tombstones, praying to Santa Muerte statues, or clinking their alcoholic bottles together in rejoice. I gripped onto Casper’s forearm, slightly overwhelmed by the crowd we maneuvered through. He seemed to enjoy it, which reassured me we're okay.

All of us kept quiet, playing witness to the controlled chaos around us. It was beautiful yet haunting: the perfect Halloween setting. We created our own fire and stood around it, sharing ghost stories with the locals. Thankfully most of them could speak English so there wasn’t too much of a language barrier between cultures. “What’s back there?” Fatso asked.

He pointed to a dark, forested area just outside the visible tombstones, which had suddenly ignited in a distant glow. “Don’t go there. There’s rumors of a more… severe… type of celebration beyond those graves.” Stinky warned. But of course this only intrigued us… “Let’s go?” Casper whispered, unable to let the suspense of the unknown go. I snapped back in a hushed tone, “are you out of your mind?” “Maybe. C’mon, Kitty Kat. I’ll protect you.” He winked. When will I ever learn to say no to him? We snuck off without the gang noticing; they'd been far too deep in beer bottles and stories to realize we had left. It was dark and overly calm. We left the noise behind us and ventured forward until we came across a seating area in the midst of graves, beautifully arranged around flowers and tall trees. The light off our phones led the way. Casper approached the bench and sat. I conveniently took a seat across his lap, soon feeling his bulge rise. His touch was warm against my bare thighs.

"See, this isn't so bad now, is it Kitty?"

Gliding his hand up to my crotch, Casper felt up my damp panties until gentle moans escaped my mouth. We hovered our lips over each other, taking into consideration of the mess my Halloween makeup would create.

“I can’t believe I’m fingering a skeleton chick.” he joked. “Don’t even get me started on your makeup skills…” I sarcastically fired back. His biceps pumped as he lifted me off and politely placed me onto the bench beside him. He kneeled on the fresh grass before me and spread my legs open for a taste. I slid forward, held his head in place as I closed my eyes, and thrust my clit over his soft lips. Moans exuded the air as he ate me out until cum began to flood his tongue… Suddenly a tree branch shuffled in the nearby distance. A peculiar notion considering we were nowhere near the others. Was someone spying on us? “It’s just an animal,” he assured, reading my thoughts. “We’re okay, Kitty.” I smiled down at him, although my mind couldn’t help but drift back to the scary stories the locals whispered around our fire… “M-m-maybe we should head back?” I suggested. “Nothing is going to hurt us.”

He could sense my fear begin to overpower the lust. “Look…”

He got up, dust off his pants, and walked over to a tombstone closest to where the shuffle of leaves had been heard. “See, there’s nothing to be af–” He stood quiet; his back to me, still in his tracks. “C-Casper?” My lip quivered. “This isn’t funny!” A heavy feeling had cast over the pit of my stomach. Something is not right. “Casper.” I asserted myself, now standing. I shined the flashlight off my phone in his direction. He turned slowly. His eyes were wide and his mouth gaping.

He dropped to his knees.

A knife had been punctured through his abdomen. He let out his final groan, “run,” and fell face first onto the grass before him. I screamed in agony at the top of my lungs and turned, running through the forest in the direction of the cemetery entrance; back to our friends. “HELP! HELP!” I yelled. Though somehow no one paid any attention. I ran across the maze of trees and stone, feeling as though I was barely making any progress. How far had we wandered? “HEEEEEELLLLPPPPP!” “Here!” A distant voice responded.

I could make out a shadow waving me down. A bonfire roared behind the figure. I ran toward the man and fell into his arms in a pant. His friends gathered around us, still wearing Day-of-the-Dead-like masks. “Please. My friend.. he's…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. A woman appeared at my side. “Shhhhh…” She hugged me. I cried hysterically as she led me through the crowd and sat me onto a chair covered in flowers; surrounded by liquor bottles, money, and bags of weed. “Shhhhh…” she whispered, “sacrificio.” “H-huh?” I wiped my tears and noticed my hand was covered in black and white face paint. My eyes started to sting. I soon realized more people around me; like shadows, chanting and muttering in a language I couldn’t make any sense of. “Please, can anyone understand me? Christine! Stretch! Fatso! Stinky! Where are you guys?!”

My voice traveled, though my eyes could barely make out what was in front of them. “They no here,” the woman replied softly. She pointed at me, then directed my gaze onto a large cobblestone Santa Muerte statue. “Sacrificio.” “Sacri-? Listen lady, please, por favor, I need to find my friends…” I started to beg, “…amigos, friends. Please?” She held up her hand and the crowd silenced. The wind whistled through the branches. The firewood cracked. “Please…” I noticed a sparkle in my peripheral. A large knife with edges stained with red sat atop of what looked like a shrine.

The woman began to reach for it. I screamed and tried to run, though several hands had already gripped my limbs, forcefully positioning me back onto the chair. “No! No, please! Por favor!! Ple-” Without a warning my head was pulled back and the knife dragged along my throat, burning me like an extra-large paper-cut dipped in potent hand sanitizer. My eyes watered. I could no longer speak or catch my breath, though I could faintly hear mutters and laughter. My world began to dim before me. I was dying…

“Dia de Muertos! Vamanos!” Stinky exclaimed. I opened my eyes abruptly. Christine was standing over me. “Okay, so. I was thinking we both wear our jean skirts? And maybe a pair it with a black… woah,” her voice dropped. “Are you okay, Kat? You look like you just saw a ghost.” “I, um…” Had it all just been a dream?

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