Haunted Harvest

Once upon a Halloween, in the wildest heart of the woods, there stood a ramshackle house that was said to be haunted. Nobody dared to cross its weed-tangled path; except for a boy named Marty, who was the very embodiment of curiosity and adventure.

Working up the courage, Marty decided he’d venture into the house on All Hallows Eve. Equipped with nothing more than a flashlight and a heart full of bravery, he stepped over the threshold, the house creaking ominously in welcome. His flashlight danced over old furniture blanketed in dust and cobwebs.

As Marty ventured deeper, he felt a chill run down his spine. The hairs on his arms prickled as a shadow darted past. He heard a creak from upstairs and saw a door – previously closed – now slightly ajar.

Marty pressed on and as he opened the door, his heart nearly skipped a beat. A ghostly figure stood in front of him, ethereal, its eyes a bottomless pit of despair. Marty froze, staring at the apparition fear-stricken. Then to his surprise, the ghost belted out, “Boo!” Marty leapt back in fright, only for the ghost to pull off its sheet and reveal Marty’s older brother, grinning impishly. “Happy Halloween, little brother!” he yelled, struggling to not fall over laughing. Marty – just as surprised as he was relieved, chuckled along. That Halloween, Marty learnt the only thing haunting the house was his prankster of a brother!