Every Halloween, the curious kids from the neighbourhood would tell tales of old Aunt Hattie’s mysterious mansion. They so dreamt to unveil its secrets, especially on the spookiest night of the year. This year was different, as brave Johnny Decided to take the leap.
“I’ll go in, find her magical broomstick and prove she’s a witch,” he declared, his chest puffed with courage. Armed with just a torch and a chocolate bar for sustenance, he stepped into the eerie abode, cloaked in darkness.
As he cautiously ascended the creaky staircase, an icy chill tickled his spine. The tension grew denser with every ticking second. Suddenly, a door flung open to reveal – a candy wonderland! It was Aunt Hattie, dressed like a witch, but making candy, not spells!
“Every Halloween, I leave candy at each doorstep while everyone’s asleep,” she confessed, “Dressed as a witch, I inadvertently began a tale of my own.”
That Halloween night, Johnny realized the true twist in his adventure; that not all witches are wicked, some are sweet. The haunted mansion turned out to be a haunted candy factory, and the wicked witch was just a generous old lady.