On the ominous night of October 31st, an old man named Steve found himself in his garden, watching the children play and laugh, his eyes brimming with tears. He prepared for his daily ritual, tending to the three pumpkins in his garden. Steve’s protectiveness toward these pumpkins knew no bounds. To safeguard them from the biting winter cold and scorching summer sun, he had erected a small glass house.
Then, as fate would have it, a missed kick sent a ball hurtling into his garden.
Kid: “I am so sorry, sir,” the child apologized as he retrieved the ball.
Steve: “No harm done son. Here, take your ball.”
Kid: “Sir, you’ve got some incredible pumpkins! They appear so… alive!”
Steve’s eyes welled up once more.
Kid: “Why are you crying, sir? Did I say something wrong?”
Steve: “Would you like to hear a tale, my boy? A story about these pumpkins?”
The child gazed toward the other kids waiting, then chose to remain with Steve, captivated by the promise of an unsettling story.
The Dark Origins
Once, in a world cloaked in shadows, there was a boy named Steve, an orphan from the darkest corners of life, clutching a memory shrouded in darkness. From the very moment he opened his eyes, he knew no love. Raised in the cold embrace of an orphanage, he never knew the warmth of a parent’s affection. Steve was different from the other children, a loner who found solace in the eerie art of drawing.
Kids: “Steve, come over here, a pumpkin’s calling for you!” They taunted, their laughter echoing eerily through the halls.
Hopes of a Grand Halloween
Yet, Steve paid them little heed, consumed by his dreams of making Halloween the grandest feast of the year. His affinity for Halloween was undeniable. Even during sultry summers, his sketchbook teemed with sinister pumpkin faces, adorning not just paper but the very walls of the orphanage itself.
As the eve of Halloween drew near, Steve, now nine years old, could feel the anticipation building. But on this fateful day, as children frolicked outside in the orphanage yard, four bullies descended upon Steve’s corner, ready to torment him once more.
Kid: “What are you drawing there? Give it to me,” he sneered, snatching the drawing from Steve’s trembling hands.
Steve’s voice trembled with resolve, “Give it back now!” he demanded. But before he could defend himself, they unleashed their fury, leaving Steve bruised, bloodied, and broken.
That night, as Steve lay in pain and frustration, tears filled his eyes. He looked up to the heavens and whispered, “God, please, do something. Send a Halloween spirit to protect me. Why, God, did you let this happen?”
The dawn of Halloween arrived, and despite his battered body, Steve’s excitement was undiminished. He joined the other children outside, where they prepared for the day’s festivities.
But the bullies returned with a vengeance, determined to crush Steve’s spirit once and for all. The leader of the bullies raised his fist, ready to strike, but what happened next was beyond comprehension.
Hallowmare’s Arrival
In a moment of darkness and relief, a creature, born of the deepest nightmares, appeared before Steve. With ungodly strength, it thwarted the bully’s attack and shattered his hand. Then he turned the bully into a pumpkin.
The creature turned to Steve, who trembled with awe. “Don’t be afraid, Steve. You called me yesterday, remember?”
A Name is Chosen
Steve, now finding his voice, asked, “Who are you? What are you?”
The enigmatic creature replied, “ Many names I’ve been called through time, but for you, Steve, you can call me what you wish.”
Steve decided, “I’ll call you Hallowmare. You are my Halloween wish and a nightmare for everyone else.”
Hallowmare nodded, “If that’s your choice, Steve, then nice to meet you. I am Hallowmare. I will see you next year. As for the kids, they will not trouble you again, I promise.”
And just like that, the creature vanished, leaving Steve with a newfound strength and a smile on his face.
Day after day, month after month, year after year, Steve grew up. At the age of 15, he left the orphanage to live on his own. But he wasn’t alone. Hallowmare stood by him every year, ready to fulfill his wishes and protect him. To make his dreams come true, to find shelter and a home. Steve had a guardian angel by his side. Every year, he made a wish, and it came true in an instant. All he had to do on October 31 was recite the invitation poem:
“Join the dance of souls long lost,
In Hallowmare’s depths, whatever the cost,
Hallowmare awaits with open arms,
In a world where darkness holds its charms,
A gathering of darkness, so people beware,
Join us forever in Hallowmare’s lair!”
A New Beginning
At the age of 30, Steve met Susan, an incredible girl. She was 25 years old and had a similar story to Steve’s; she was an orphan too. Steve fell in love with her, and she with him. Married and nurturing a beautiful family, they welcomed two little children into their lives, a boy named George and a girl named Mary. Their love ran deep, and happiness filled their hearts. With a lovely home and two extraordinary children, they had everything they could ever desire, and most importantly, they had each other.
However, as Halloween approached, Steve realized he hadn’t asked Hallowmare to celebrate with them. It was the start of November when he noticed he had spent Halloween with his family, not with Hallowmare. And he was content. So, he decided to write the invitation on paper and hide it in a box in their attic. It felt like he was saying a final goodbye to his only friend.
Steve: “Rest forever, my buddy. We can’t celebrate Halloween together. I have a family now. Thank you for everything.”
And he sealed the box, leaving it in the attic.
A Nightmare Resurfaces
Ten years passed, and Steve and Susan were ready to celebrate Halloween with their children, little Georgie and Mary. The kids were already 10 years old and had their Halloween costumes ready for trick-or-treating.
Susan: “Kids, are you ready? Did you put on your Halloween costumes already?”
Mary: “Yes, Mom. I just want to add something to my head. Can I check the attic?”
Susan: “Of course, dear, but hurry up so you don’t miss the trick-or-treating!”
Mary went straight to the attic to find a pink hairpin. In her search, she stepped on a sealed box. When she opened it, she found and read the poem:
“Join the dance of souls long lost,
In Hallowmare’s depths, whatever the cost,
Hallowmare awaits with open arms,
In a world where darkness holds its charms,
A gathering of darkness, so people beware,
Join us forever in Hallowmare’s lair!”
Then, silence fell around them, a deadly silence. An orange mist appeared before Mary, revealing Hallowmare’s eyes. Mary screamed and ran to her mother.
Susan: “What happened, my love?”
Mary: “Mom, there’s a monster in the attic!”
Susan chuckled. “Monsters don’t exist, dear.”
When Steve heard that Mary was in the attic, he felt it—the presence of Hallowmare. For the first time, fear gripped him. Perhaps he had done something terribly wrong with Hallowmare.
The Return of Hallowmare
Then everyone heard heavy steps from the attic. The kids and Suzan screamed as they saw Hallowmare’s appearance. Steve stood in front of his family, ready to protect them at any cost.
Hallowmare: “Hi, Steve. Remember me?” His voice dripped with sinister familiarity as he drew near, casting a looming shadow over Steve’s family.
Steve: “Hallowmare, I’ve built a family now. That’s why Halloween’s different.”
Hallowmare: “Nah, Steve. I am your family, the one that truly understands.”
Steve: “Keep away from my family.”
Hallowmare: “Deep within, Steve, you know why I’m here. You can’t deny it.”
Steve: “No, Hallowmare, this is my family. You don’t belong here.”
Hallowmare: “Let me reveal your true family, Steve. Let me reveal it.”
In a heartbeat, Steve’s family transformed into three grotesque pumpkins.
Steve: “No! This is not true! Bring them back now.” His agonized cries echoed in the chilling night, a desperate plea in the face of the macabre transformation.
A Family Lost
Hallowmare: “No, Steve. Do you see now who your real family is? It’s me. I always will be. This is a lesson for you to learn. You have plenty of time to think about it.”
And he disappeared, leaving Steve breathless and in tears. It was the second time Steve had lost his family, once when he was born and now again. Now, the only remnants of his once-happy family were the three grotesque pumpkins. They sat in the garden, twisted grins etched upon their sinister, misshapen faces, a chilling reminder of the night’s horrifying events.
Rate the level of creepiness in the story using the “Creepy Meter” below.
Don’t miss the Halloween story about the Spooky Costume at midnight…
Find more twisted stories and creepy tales, send us YOUR CREEPY STORIES, or join the Bonfire Discord Community to find more Horror geeks to discuss.
-
Creepy Meter | How Creepy it was?
