Deep Dark Secret

In the sleepy town of Hollow’s End, nestled between ancient forests and mist-covered hills, Halloween was more than just a holiday—it was a tradition steeped in superstition. Every year, the town transformed with glowing jack-o’-lanterns, costumed children, and festive parades. Yet, behind the merriment, the people of Hollow’s End knew that something sinister stirred beneath the surface. For centuries, the townsfolk followed one unspoken rule: Never stay out past midnight on Halloween.

The legend dated back to the town’s founding, in the 17th century, when settlers discovered a lone black tree in the middle of the woods. The tree’s bark was smooth and dark as obsidian, and no birds ever perched on its branches. One fateful Halloween night, a young boy named Simon ventured too close to the tree. When he didn’t return home by dawn, a search party found nothing but his mask—hanging neatly on one of the tree’s branches. From that day forward, the settlers warned their children: The Spirit of the Black Tree collects those who linger too long.

The Midnight Bell 🔔

This year, October 31st had an eerie chill, and a harvest moon illuminated the town with an otherworldly glow. The streets bustled with children in bright costumes, their laughter echoing between the rows of old houses. But by eleven o’clock, parents hurried their children home, shutting their doors and bolting their windows. Hollow’s End grew quiet as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

One child, however, remained outside. Thirteen-year-old Eleanor had heard the warnings all her life, but she didn’t believe in fairy tales. She was tired of the town's fear and curiosity gnawed at her. What would really happen if she stayed out past midnight? Determined to find out, she hid in an alleyway, clutching her flashlight, as the streets emptied.

As the clock struck twelve, a deep, resonant bell rang out—one Eleanor had never heard before. The sound reverberated through the town, growing louder until it felt as if the night itself was vibrating. The wind picked up, scattering dry leaves across the pavement. Then, from the far end of the street, Eleanor saw it: a figure.

It wasn’t a person—it was something else. The figure wore a tattered cloak made of shadows, and its head was a cracked, grinning pumpkin. In one hand, it carried a lantern, and in the other, a long, twisted staff made from branches. As the creature glided silently through the streets, Eleanor felt a strange chill settle in her bones. The jack-o’-lantern's grin widened unnaturally, stretching into a jagged smile as it stopped in front of the black tree at the town square.

To Eleanor’s horror, figures began to emerge from the shadows—children in old-fashioned costumes, their faces pale as ghosts. They were the lost ones—kids from generations past, including Simon, still wearing his mask. They followed the pumpkin-headed figure like puppets, eyes vacant, as if trapped between life and death.

The Bargain🤝

Eleanor realized the horrifying truth: Halloween wasn’t just a holiday for dressing up. It was a ritual—a night when the boundary between the living and the lost grew thin. The pumpkin-headed creature, known as The Hollow King, roamed the streets in search of souls who had stayed out too long. The townspeople’s festivities were a ruse, a way to mask their fear and keep the Hollow King appeased by lighting pumpkins and pretending they were not afraid.

Just as Eleanor tried to slip away, the Hollow King’s lantern swung in her direction. Its glowing eyes locked onto hers, and it began to glide toward her. Eleanor’s heart raced as the lost children shuffled behind it, silent as the grave. She felt the air grow cold, the lantern’s light dimming the world around her.

Eleanor knew she had only one chance. Summoning every ounce of courage, she whispered, “I know your secret.”

The Hollow King stopped, tilting its head as if intrigued.

“You don’t just take for no reason,” Eleanor continued. “You take because you must. But there has to be a way to end this.”

The Hollow King loomed closer, and Eleanor could see the ancient pain flickering behind its glowing eyes. It raised its staff, and for a moment, Eleanor thought her time had run out. But instead, the pumpkin-headed figure lowered the staff to the ground, drawing a circle with its crooked branches. In a low, hollow voice, it whispered: “A soul must always be claimed on Halloween. A sacrifice... willingly given.”

Eleanor understood the bargain. The Hollow King wasn’t just a monster—it was a guardian, bound to protect the town by collecting a soul each year to keep darker forces at bay. If no one stayed out past midnight, it would claim whoever was closest to the black tree.

This was why the town obeyed the rule, why no one dared defy it. They feared not just the Hollow King, but what would happen if he didn’t get his due.

The Choice

Tears welled in Eleanor’s eyes as she looked at the lost children behind the Hollow King. If she ran now, she might escape—but the price would be paid by someone else. Another innocent soul, taken next year, and every year after that. Eleanor clenched her fists.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “Let them go. Take me instead.”

The Hollow King paused for a long, agonizing moment. Then, it nodded slowly, the jagged grin on its pumpkin face shifting into something almost... grateful. With a wave of its staff, the lost children faded into the mist, their chains of shadow dissolving like smoke.

Eleanor felt a cold hand brush against her shoulder as the Hollow King’s lantern dimmed. “Brave child,” it murmured, “you have saved them, and the town. But know this—sacrifice comes with a cost.”

The ground beneath Eleanor shifted, and before she could scream, the black roots of the ancient tree reached up, pulling her into the earth.

A New Beginning

The next morning, the people of Hollow’s End woke to a peaceful dawn. No one spoke of the strange bell, the missing girl, or the Hollow King. They simply cleaned the streets and went about their day, as they always did after Halloween.

But in the center of the town square, something was different. The old black tree now bore a new branch—and hanging from it was Eleanor’s mask, a soft smile carved into its wood.

The townsfolk knew the truth but whispered it only in shadows: The Hollow King always returns. But this time, he walks among us.

And from that day forward, whenever Halloween rolled around, the children of Hollow’s End noticed something peculiar. A girl dressed in shadow and autumn leaves, her eyes glowing like embers, would stand at the edge of the forest, watching, waiting—and smiling, ever so slightly.

They say if you see her and stay out too late, she’ll offer you a choice: Run, or stay—and take your place among the lost.

And so, the rule remains: Never stay out past midnight on Halloween.