ElTabacoMata

“The Lantern Maker of Hollow Street” By: ElTabacoMata Every year, on the last night of October, the people of Ashvale would leave their porches dark. No flickering candles. No carved pumpkins. No decorations at all. The reason was simple: The Lantern Maker. No one knew his real name, or if he was even alive anymore. But legend said he had once been the town’s finest craftsman—carving lanterns so beautiful they could make even the coldest night feel warm. Until, one year, his daughter vanished during a Halloween storm. They found her the next morning, her face pale and her eyes… empty. After that, he stopped making lanterns. Until, of course, he didn’t. One by one, strange lanterns began appearing on doorsteps each Halloween night. They were exquisite—glass shaped like skulls, pumpkins, and ravens—but their light was wrong. It didn’t flicker like a flame. It pulsed, faintly, as though something inside were alive. Anyone who kept one overnight was never seen again. Children dared each other to peek inside the lanterns, but no one ever did twice. Those who looked claimed they saw faces—trapped, flickering faces—mouthing silent screams behind the glass. This Halloween, a boy named Eli decided he’d had enough of the stories. He was tired of fear ruling Hollow Street. As midnight neared, he took a hammer and went out into the dark, looking for one of the cursed lanterns. He found it waiting on his porch. The moment he lifted the hammer, the lantern’s light flared—a thousand faces swirling in the glass. And for a second, Eli swore one of them looked just like him. When his parents awoke the next morning, the lantern was gone. In its place sat a new one—beautifully carved, glowing softly—bearing Eli’s wide, terrified eyes inside the glass. 🕯️ Happy Halloween. May your lanterns stay dark tonight. 👻