On a brisk Halloween night, two young boys, Sam and Bill, decided to venture into the rickety old house on Crimson Lane. It was a daunting sight, its cobweb-laden shutters creaking loudly. The urban legends of haunted specters and unsolved mysteries only fuelled their juvenile curiosity.
With pumpkins glowing and candy buckets in hand, they tiptoed towards the ominous house. The door creaked open with a gust of wind, and they jumped, hearts pounding.
“Haunted house or not,” Sam nervously giggled, extending his candy bucket, “trick or treat?”
A soft rustling echoed from inside, and a long, bony hand emerged, dropping the most delicious-looking candy into their buckets. The boys squealed with delight and scampered away, not looking back at the mysterious benefactor.
As they disappeared into the night, a wicked laugh echoed down Crimson Lane. From the shadowy entrance of the spooky house, a figure emerged. You’d have expected a shrouded phantom or a gnarly witch, wouldn’t you? But no…
Underneath the glowing moonlight stood granny Smith from down the lane – her cat Felix purring happily by her feet. Turns out, what was legendary in the neighborhood was her candy and not her ghostliness. “Oh, they’re such good kids,” she said, allowing herself a mischievous chuckle, “they dearly deserve a real scare.”