Every October, mist rolled over the crooked bridge leading into Hollow Creek, curling like pale fingers around the railings. The townsfolk said it was the spirits returning to look for something they’d lost—though no one could agree on what.
But everyone feared one thing:
**The Lantern Keeper.**
Long ago, before Hollow Creek had paved roads or streetlights, a watchman walked the woods to guide travelers home. He carried a brass lantern that never went out, no matter wind or rain. But one Halloween night, a terrible storm struck. The watchman never returned. The next day, only his lantern remained—still burning—at the foot of the old ash tree near the creek.
Since then, every year on Halloween night, a figure with a glowing lantern wanders the bridge, his face shadowed, his footsteps silent. Some say he is lost. Others say he is searching.
But no one knows what happens if he finds what he seeks.
---
On one chilly Halloween evening, **Emilia** dared her friends to cross the bridge at dusk. They laughed nervously, clutching plastic pumpkins of candy, but agreed—because no one wanted to seem afraid.
The closer they walked, the thicker the mist became, cold and damp like breath on the back of their necks.
Then they heard it:
**Tap. Tap. Tap.**
A slow, deliberate step on the planks.
A warm glow flickered through the fog.
The friends froze.
The Lantern Keeper emerged—tall, cloaked, his lantern shining golden against the gray. His face could not be seen, but his voice was soft as autumn wind:
**“Are you lost?”**
Emilia swallowed hard.
“N-No. We were just—”
The Keeper lifted the lantern, and the world around them seemed to shift.
The bridge was newer now. The town beyond was smaller. The air smelled of woodsmoke and fresh leaves. They saw people walking—people dressed in old-fashioned clothes, laughing, talking.
A world from *long ago.*
The Lantern Keeper’s voice trembled.
**“I was guiding them home…”**
The lantern flickered, and the vision faded. The Keeper lowered his head as though the weight of time pressed upon him.
Emilia stepped forward.
“Maybe… you still can.”
For a moment, the night held its breath.
The lantern’s flame brightened—warm, steady, hopeful.
And the Keeper’s outline began to soften, dissolving into the mist, as though at last, he could rest.
When it was over, the bridge was just a bridge.
The fog slowly cleared.
The friends walked home without running—but they didn’t speak.
The next morning, townsfolk found something near the creek:
**A brass lantern.
Finally quiet.
Finally dark.**
---
Some say the spirits of Hollow Creek no longer wander in the mist.
Because someone finally guided the Lantern Keeper home.
Stake I'd XYZ123495
![Halloween [2025]](https://stakecommunity.com/uploads/monthly_2025_10/Halloween.jpg.695c19e4371782c5ac716c9831fd4e8c.jpg "Halloween [2025]")
jaat37 reacted to a post in a topic:
Weekend Stream + Giveaway
