How could I know?  They seemed so innocent.

We live on the third floor, the top floor.  The front door to our six-flat building is locked.  The kids, the trick-or-treaters, never ring our buzzer.  We don't bother buying candy.

At dusk the buzzer rang.  The cats sprung off their favorite napping chair, landing on the floor with backs arched, fur bristling and a threatening hiss.

"Disturb your little kitty dreams, mmm?  Honey, did you order take-out?"

"Dinner's on the stove.  You smelled it when you walked in the door."

The buzzer rang again.  Not any of our neighbors' buzzers.  Just ours.  I guess that's what we get for our button being at the top.

"UPS?  FedEx?"

"Look out the window."

I groaned as I stood up.  Once I'm home for the evening, I hate being bothered.  The cats slinked by heading for their all-purpose hiding spot under the bed.  No delivery truck on the street.  I look down.

Kids.  Kids in costumes.  And they're going to lean on the buzzer again.

"Just answer the buzzer."

I take another quick look at the bratty tormentors.  A zombie - of course, a Snow White - more money for Disney, a Thor - Hollywood brainwashing, are those twins dressed as an Angry Bird and a hungry pig?  Oh, and there's someone's Mom.  Pointy hat, skraggly hair.  Great wig, Mom.

"Enough with the buzzer.  I'm coming!"

Pressing the Answer button, I say, "Hello."

"Trick or treat!"

"Sorry, we don't have anything."

"Trick or treat!!"

"Sorry.  Nothing.  Bye."

"Trick or ...."  I click off, doing my part to save the local tooth enamel .

"Sweetheart?  Would you look at this?"

I head back to the front window.  The pointy-hatted mom is waving her hands above the kids who circle her.  A sparkling, swirling mist seems to be enveloping the kids.  The kids ... turn ... as ... one ... looking up at us.

"Sweetheart, where did those seven kids dressed as dwarves come from?  And why do they seem to be building a large sling?"

A front window shatters, spraying us with glass.  The second front window blasts inwards before the shards of the first settle.  Between drops of blood dripping in before my eye, I see a hammer flying back out the shattered space towards the Thor kid.

"Duck!"  The Angry Bird arches through the air, angling into our living room, knocking over a lamp, crashing into a bookcase.  Being pulled by his hammer, Thor follows the Angry Bird.  I can hear the damn dwarves taking their pickaxes to the building's entryway.

I came to as a squeeky high voice yelled, "There's no candy!"  My one working eye scanned the ruin that was our living room.  The hallway ... walls with huge holes.  Someone in the kitchen was kicking pans about.  I could see my Honey breathing, but pinned under two other bookcases.  I ... I can't feel my legs.

The mom, the witch, that's her real hair, is standing in the doorway.  The hungry pig emerges from behind her ambling towards Honey.  I.  Can't.  Move.  The zombie kid is coming at ....

The witch cackles, "Hurry up and eat, children.  We have a lot more homes to visit tonight."