Halloween Short Story

Dear Reader, welcome. Our tale takes us to the Sleepyville Candy Shop, on a chilly Halloween night, where Sam, the shop owner, was busy preparing candy bags for the trick-or-treaters.

Tomorrow was the big day, Halloween, but Sam couldn’t shake off a nagging feeling. He had been warned, the shop he had just inherited from old man Jenkins, had a history of peculiar happenings on All Hallow’s Eve.

Laughing it off, he continued his work, until, from the corner of his eye, he saw a candy bag floating in midair. Startled, he watched as it gently landed back on the counter.

Frightened, yet curious, Sam slowly reached out his hand and gasped when a ghostly hand slipped out a silver coin from under the bag. A payment, he realized, from a customer unable to hold the bag.

Suppressing a nervy chuckle, Sam decided to remain open all night, serving candy to his new, ghostly clientele. It was a sight to behold, bags after bags of candy floating out into the night.

That was the day Sleepyville Candy Shop earned its unique fame and the next day, Sam happily invested his ghostly earnings in more candy. After all, no rule says, ‘Only the living shall trick or treat’.

The tale of Sam and his haunted Candy Shop reminds us to embrace the unexpected, especially when it pays in silver coins, eh? Happy Halloween, brave reader!

Once upon a time, on a moonlit Halloween night, a family known as the Halloweeds lived in a dilapidated mansion atop a hill. This family had a not-so-secret secret—they were a coven of witches! With a buzzard named Beaker and whispers of voodoo, they were the talk and terror of the town below.

This particular Halloween night, the town had decided to brave the bluff and face the fiendish family. Armed with pitchforks and hammers, lanterns swaying to the beat of their pounding hearts, the jittery crowd ascended the haunted hill.

Meanwhile, the Halloweeds were brewing their annual Halloween stew. A swirl of bat wings, a pinch of moon dust, and surprise ingredient this year, laughter of a clown, the family was ready to celebrate in their spooky style.

Peering through their widow’s walk, they spotted the mob marching towards their mansion. Instead of panicking, they cooked up a plan, a pinch of mischief in their eyes.

As the townsfolk reached the mansion, bracing for a battle, they were met with an unexpected sight. The Halloweeds stood, waving banners that cheerfully read, “Happy Halloween!” before inviting them all in for a taste of their delicious pumpkin pie. Their bravely baked not-so-secret secret ingredient? You guessed it– laughter of a clown. The best kind of welcome and trick-or-treat surprise!

Underneath a Halloween moon, in the town of Jangles, there was a house so haunted, even the ghosts were scared to enter. “The Yeekhouse” as it was known, stood alone, its walls screeching with stories of wicked witches and ghastly ghouls.

Local legend whispered about Old Tom, a cobbler who resided there years ago. One Halloween night, he mysteriously disappeared, and ever since, ghastly echoes of his last frightful scream were said to reverberate from the house on All Hallows’ Eve.

This year, a courageous kid named Billy decided to explore the Yeekhouse. He approached, a carved pumpkin in his trembling hands, his heart pounding like a witch’s drum. He pushed the squeaky gate; when he was about to tap the knocker, he heard the ominous creaking echo. It was Tom’s haunting scream!

Summoning his courage, Billy knocked thrice on the ancient wooden door. He barely finished knocking when the door cracked open, and out stepped… a cheerful man in a cobbler’s apron, carrying a tray of candy-filled shoes!

“Happy Halloween!” exclaimed the man. “I’m Tom. Got lost in my shoe cupboard years ago. Would you like some candy, son?”

And that’s how Billy discovered that the scariest ghost in all of Jangles was really just misunderstood, and made an unexpected, sweet-toothed friend on Halloween night.

On the spookiest night of the year, twelve-year-old Timmy found himself alone in the rumored haunted house by Maple Street. A dare from his friends had led him there, courage mingling with chocolate induced adrenaline. The moment Timmy took a step , the rusty hinge creaked menacingly as if welcoming him into its haunted depths.

He tiptoed into the house, every thud of his heart echoing his fear, amplifying the eerie stillness. Suddenly, he spotted an old mirror lying oddly in a corner. As he looked into it, his face turned pale. He saw a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at him. He turned around in fear, but there was nothing.

Summoning his courage, he looked back into the mirror. There it was — a ghostly figure with those haunting red eyes. He squinted, and the ghostly figure squinted back. Covered in a white sheet, it looked a lot like…

…him. Timmy let out a sigh of relief and rolled his eyes. A glob of his spilled milkshake had smeared on his face during the commotion. His friends would get a kick out of calling him “Timmy the Milkshake Ghost” for eternity!

On a chilly Halloween night, right in the heart of the small town of Pumpkinville, sat the ancient manor of old lady Hester. Her home was known as the infamous haunted house, a yearly spectacle for the daring souls. This particular year, a group of courageous children decided to explore the dilapidated building, each one vying to be called the bravest.

Clad in their scariest costumes and fueled by adrenaline, the children tiptoed through the dark, eerie house. Cobwebs brushing their faces and floorboards creaking underfoot, their heartbeats echoed in the silence. Suddenly, a shrill scream echoed through the mansion. One by one, they all turned tail and bolted out the door, hearts pounding— all except a young lad, Tommy.

He mustered the courage to step further into the shadow, discovering the source of the scream was nothing more than a tricky cat stepping on an old, rusty toy horn. Turning back, he chuckled, realizing he was the last one standing and hence, the proclaimed bravest one out of his friends.

Tommy exited Hester’s house with a wide grin. Oh, how his friends would jump in horror when they discovered the new “ghost” in town was their very own Tommy!

Every Halloween, the tiny rural town of Howling Hollow lived up to its eerie reputation. The Old Hendrick’s Place on Spooksvale Road was the crown jewel of terror. Legacies of ghostly whispers, eerie lights and phantom laughter had people steering clear.

The brash newcomer, Ben, chuckled at the town’s superstitions and declared his resolve to stay a night in the haunted house. Armed with a flashlight, a thermos of coffee, and a hefty sprinkle of hubris, he marched towards the Old Hendrick’s Place on Halloween night.

Ben’s night was a tableau of fright – chilling creaks, spectral whisperings and the fearful laughter of non-human entities. However, he stood his ground neurally, exposing the source of these mysterious events one after the other by the first glint of dawn. Beams from a loose attic window, rusty plumbing, and his own echo.

With newfound respect, the town acknowledged the young man’s audacity and the house was finally rid of its ghostly tag. Next Halloween, Ben was ready to recount his night at the Old Hendrick’s Place to a captivated crowd. But as the spooktale began, the words got muffled under everyone’s surprised gasps, because there stood Ben, the hero of the tale, transparent as air. Quite like a Ghost!

Once upon a time, in a little town known as Screamville, lived a sweet old lady named Granny Smith. Every Halloween, she’d bake pumpkin pies for all the children in town.

This year, however, a rumor circulated that Granny had discovered a recipe for immortality, and had would use it in the pie. The secret ingredient? A single hair from a ghost’s head. Intrigue hovered over Screamville like a dense fog.

Halloween night arrived, and pie after pie was devoured by the townsfolk, their eyes filled with anticipation. Nothing unusual happened. People were just incredibly full and slightly disappointed.

The following year, as Halloween approached, the children noticed something strange – they hadn’t aged a day since the last Halloween. Excitement filled the air, but the adults, horrified, turned to Granny Smith for answers. She chuckled and admitted the truth, she did use a ghost’s hair in the pie but amazingly she confessed, “The secret ingredient wasn’t for immortality, my dears. Ghosts don’t age, remember? My secret ingredient was just for… eternal youth!”

And that’s how Screamville became the town with the youngest and happiest folk but with the oldest and wisest hearts.

Under the erratic glow of flickering lamplights, at the end of Hemlock Street, stood a gnarled old house. Known by everyone as the Hollow Bellow House, its reputation of midnight moans, icy drafts, and flickering lights was legendary.

On a chilly Halloween night, young Tom, wearing his red superhero cape, decided to brave the spooky old house. Armed with a flashlight and a bag full of candy, he stepped across the creaking threshold.

In the darkness, disembodied whispers made icy needle pricks on Tom’s neck. Daring to venture further, he shone his light on a cobweb-covered portrait of a sad-looking girl named Elara, as per the brass nameplate.

A loud wailing echoed through the house, startling him. Turning, Tom spotted a ghostly figure; it was Elara. Swallowing his fear, Tom gave Elara his favorite candy, a colorful lollipop.

To his surprise, the ghost calmed and smiled, a hint of color returning to her ethereal form. “Thank you,” she whispered before dissolving away, leaving the house oddly silent.

From that day on, Hollow Bellow House was no longer haunted. Rather, it became known as “Lollipop House”, a place where a candy offered in kindness licked the ghostly blues away!

Once upon a time, in a not-so-faraway town of Brightown, there lived a prankster boy named Billy. Billy loved one holiday above all, Halloween. On this night, he’d dress up, often as a ghost, to scare the town’s folks.

One Halloween, Billy decided to level up his pranks. He visited the town’s notorious haunted house, a last-resort for his mischief. With a white sheet over his head, he stuck his tongue out at passersby, only to gift them the surprise of their lives.

Later that night, an unexpected gush of wind blew his sheet away, revealing his true identity. Embarrassed and defeated, not to mention cold, Billy decided to head home.

While packing up, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was a real ghost, amused by Billy’s antics. “Would you want to actually scare people next time?” the spirit asked, holding out a book titled, ‘Prankster’s Guide to Successful Haunting.

Billy’s eyes grew wide, but before he could respond, the ghost vanished, leaving him with an eerily glowing guide. “Who said the ghost can’t be the host?” chuckled Billy, foreseeing his legendary Halloween pranks in Brightown!