Post Meal

The red mist dropped me into the jaws of the skull. I fell for a while down a dark, black tunnel. Every now and then my fall would be interrupted by a bump. I quickly gathered that I was falling down a skeletal throat.  It was hardly a pleasant fall as I was interrupted every few moments by a bump. By the time I hit the cold stone bottom, my legs were so bruised that I could barely stand. I wobbled around, trying to find my place in the dark. As I attempt to find light, I heard laughter not to far away. "Who's there?" I ask, trying to sound as brave as possible. The laughter continues. "Who's there?" I ask again. Something whizzes past my head. I hear it smash on the ground. I examine it as best as I can in the dark. From what I can tell it feels like a pumpkin or some sort of squash. I stand up and clench my fists. "I demand to know who you are." "All in good time." A far away voice says. It throws another pumpkin. However, this one doesn't miss. It hits me in the arm. I bend over because it hurts so much. I hear a match. I look up. I see a white glove holding a candle. The figure walks closer. I can tell that whoever this is that they are well dressed. They wear a 19th century frock coat, but I can't make out the face. Then it raises the candle to its shoulder and I realize it has no head.