The Harvest

Despite the streetlights, the city was dark. The air was chilly, and tendrils of steam stirred from the storm drain. It was harvesting time. He licked his lips, a smile forming. "My sheep have grown over the past year and have fattened." His freezer would be restocked by morning.

Wiping drool from his chin, he secured a mask over his face, and exited the van. His entire body, from his head to his toes, was concealed by a popular Halloween costume. Blending in, he slinked his way into the crowd of trick or treaters. The van had room for more.