On the edge of Hollowmere Town, where the fog clings to the ground like sleeping ghosts, there stood an old farmhouse everyone avoided. They said the pumpkins in its field grew strange—faces already carved before the knife ever touched them.
Every Halloween, one pumpkin glowed brighter than the rest. No candles, no matches—just a flicker from within, like a heartbeat. Legend said it whispered to whoever dared come close.
This year, curiosity got the better of Riley. With a flashlight and a dare from her friends, she crept into the field at midnight. The pumpkins seemed to watch her, their carved grins stretching a little too wide.
The whisper came softly at first—“Closer…”—and then, “Trade places…”
Riley leaned in. Inside the glowing Jack-O’-Lantern, she saw her reflection blink back—only it wasn’t blinking with her. It smiled when she didn’t.
A scream broke through the night. When her friends returned, they found only a new pumpkin sitting where Riley had stood—its face perfectly carved in her likeness, eyes still glowing from within.
And if you visit the old Hollowmere field now, you’ll hear a faint whisper riding the wind:
“Your turn to smile…”
stake username - viliuzv
