The village was quiet except for a few dogs barking.
All the families knew they had to have their doors and windows locked tight by sundown.
See they felt safer that way even though they knew in their heart of hearts they weren’t
It was for the children’s sake, so they could sleep.
And of course this being no Mexican legend but the pure unadulterated truth
a few years back at the annual Day of the Dead festival, well, there was a tragic occurrence.
It started like any other festival day, the one of baking sugar skulls and bread for the dead
and sewing skeleton costumes for the little children, while the men sat on benches outside
telling stories about their dead friends and relatives and drinking tequila.
So as the sun went down there would be a candlelight procession at the local cemetery
and that’s where it all happened. That’s where it took place.
See the mayor of the village was a desperate man.
His lust and greed for power was such that in the last few hours of a losing election
he made a deal with the devil
drawing up a contract with old Beelzebub himself that he would be granted the election
if he was willing to give anything, anywhere, anytime, so he did, and so he won.
As hours days and months went by everything seemed to be just fine.
As there were no demands on the mayor who lived in a lavish mansion on the hill overlooking the town
the people seemed happy and the fruits of life were plentiful.
But as November 1st approached the mayor started receiving letters in the mail postmarked from Hell.
The letters read “On the first day of the dead you will be asked to repay me. Signed, The Devil”
Each day for one week he threw the letters in the fireplace and went about his business.
So as the first Day of the Dead arrived and the sun sank behind his mansion on the hill
he walked with all the little children in their skeleton costumes with candles
in through the gates of the cemetery and their parents taught them how to kneel and pray for their dead loved ones.
About that time the Devil sent in a band of demons on horseback and systematically cut their heads off one by one.
From Day of the Dead by Captain Clegg and the Night Creatures