Once upon a time, in a small and eerie town known as Creepsville, resided a peculiar old man named Harvey. Harvey was renowned for his infamously haunted house—a dilapidated mansion perched on top of Creepsville hill frequented by the most horrifying specters at nightfall, especially on Halloween.
Halloween came as usual, and the curious townsfolk had a challenge for the bravest—venture into Harvey’s haunted house, stay there till dawn, and bring back a recognizable artifact. The town’s bravest, a young lad named Timmy, accepted the challenge.
Armed with a dim flashlight and trembling heart, Timmy crept up the hill under the ghostly glow of the full moon. He entered the house, roamed through creaking rooms, and experienced frightening shadows and chilling whispers. Still, he forged on.
As dawn broke, Timmy triumphantly emerged, brandishing an old photo of a handsome young man. However, the town fell silent when the photograph was passed to Harvey. His eyes welled up with tears, and a warm smile spread across his face.
“My, oh my,” Harvey murmured. “I haven’t seen myself this young in decades.” And with a laugh on that Halloween morning, the townsfolk realised, the scariest place in Creepsville was nothing but a lonely old man’s home after all.