nuttakan
“The Lantern Keeper”
Every Halloween night, the town of Willowmere held its lantern walk — a parade of glowing pumpkins that wound through the foggy streets and ended at the old cemetery hill. But this year, fewer people came. Some said it was because of him — the Lantern Keeper.
No one knew his real name. They said he appeared at midnight, carrying a single lantern carved with faces that seemed to change each time you looked at them — smiling one moment, screaming the next.
Lena, who never believed ghost stories, decided she’d prove he was just a legend. She snuck out that night, following the trail of dying candles left after the parade. The fog thickened, wrapping around her like cold silk. When she reached the hill, every pumpkin had gone out… except one.
It was enormous — carved with a jagged grin and hollow eyes that burned with real fire. And standing behind it was a tall figure in a tattered cloak, holding a lantern made from glass so old it looked like ice.
“Looking for the parade?” he asked, voice rough as dry leaves.
Lena froze. “You’re… the Lantern Keeper?”
He tilted his head. “I keep what others forget.”
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
He lifted his lantern — and inside, instead of a candle, burned dozens of tiny flickering lights. They weren’t flames. They were faces — children, adults, all glowing softly, trapped in the glass.
“The ones who stayed too long,” he murmured. “The ones who didn’t believe.”
Lena turned to run — but the fog swallowed her scream.
When the townsfolk came the next morning, they found a new lantern on the hill, carved with a familiar face — still glowing from within.
And every Halloween after, the Lantern Keeper carried one more light in his glass lantern.
