Deep in the heart of a quaint, small town sat the rickety old house of Mr. Jenkins. For as long as anyone could remember, it stood abandoned, its windows boarded, the garden overrun with weeds. Every year on Halloween, children avoided it, convinced it was haunted. As local legend had it, anyone who ventured inside was never seen again.
One blustery Halloween night, a pair of brave siblings, Jack and Jill, dared to venture into the house. Armed with flashlights and a bag of candy corn for courage, they tiptoed inside, past cobwebs and creaky floorboards, into the heart of the deserted dwelling. In the gloom, they spotted something sparkling.
Summoning courage, they drew closer. It was a chocolate bar, glistening under the dusty chandelier. Jack reached out and grabbed it, when suddenly, out popped Mr. Jenkins himself, sporting a toothless grin and a large cauldron full of sweets!
“Gotcha!” he exclaimed, chuckling. He had become a sort of friendly neighborhood ghost, having been rejected by the afterlife, for his only sin was not sharing his legendary homemade chocolates in his lifetime. Now on Halloween, he kept his promise, ‘haunting’ his old home and delighting any brave enough to venture in!