The small town of Hollow’s Patch sat in the heart of the Midwest, surrounded by endless fields of corn and wheat. It was an unassuming place where everyone knew everyone else, and the biggest news usually involved county fairs or summer bonfires. But this October, there was a different sort of buzz. People in town were whispering about Farmer Miller’s pumpkin patch.
The patch had always been a favorite for families, especially in the weeks leading up to Halloween. It was a tradition to take kids there, pick out the biggest pumpkins, and enjoy cider and donuts. But this year, the pumpkins had grown to enormous sizes, far larger than anyone had seen before. Word spread that Miller’s pumpkins were bigger than any in the state, and soon, people from neighboring towns were stopping by to see the monstrous fruits.
On an overcast Saturday, a chill settled over the town as a cold autumn wind picked up, rustling the dying leaves. Despite the weather, the Miller farm was bustling. Families wandered among the towering orange pumpkins, marveling at their size and taking pictures.
Jake, a lanky sixteen-year-old, leaned against the fence, looking bored as his mom browsed the patch for “the perfect pumpkin.” He kicked at the dirt, pulling his hoodie tighter around him as a gust of wind blew down from the hills. Beside him, his younger sister Lily was nearly bouncing with excitement.
“Look at that one!” Lily pointed to a massive, lumpy pumpkin with thick, twisted vines surrounding it like protective arms. “It’s huge!”
Jake rolled his eyes. “It’s just a pumpkin, Lil.”
Lily ignored him, and, after making sure her mother wasn’t watching, reached out to touch the pumpkin. Her fingers grazed the cold, bumpy surface, and instantly, a strange sensation shot through her hand. She felt a tingling, almost as if tiny pins were pricking her skin. She pulled her hand back, startled, but didn’t say anything.
A few minutes later, the family had chosen their pumpkin and returned to the car. As they drove home, Lily sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window. She could still feel the prickling sensation in her hand, and a faint voice whispered at the back of her mind, calling her back to the patch.
“Lily, you okay?” her mom asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Lily nodded slowly, but her mind was elsewhere. Her gaze drifted back toward the pumpkin patch as it disappeared over the hill.
---
That night, the wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the old farmhouse. Jake lay in bed, scrolling on his phone, oblivious to the eerie noises. His sister, however, couldn’t sleep. Lily sat up in bed, clutching her blanket tightly as she stared at the window. The faint, whispering voice had returned, calling her name.
Come back… Come back to the field…
The voice was soft, almost melodic, but there was something unsettling about it, something that made her heart race. She felt compelled to obey, to slip out of bed, put on her shoes, and walk back to the farm, even though it was miles away.
A sudden tap on her bedroom door made her jump.
“Lily?” her mom whispered, peeking inside. “What are you doing awake?”
Lily swallowed, her voice small and shaky. “I… I just couldn’t sleep.”
Her mom nodded, glancing around the room before noticing the uneasy look on her daughter’s face. “Did something scare you today at the pumpkin patch?”
Lily hesitated, then nodded. “The big pumpkin… when I touched it, I felt… weird.”
Her mom chuckled softly. “Well, that’s Halloween for you. Always something spooky going on. Now, try to get some sleep, honey.” She closed the door and headed back down the hall.
Lily lay back down, but sleep didn’t come. The voice continued, growing louder and more insistent. Finally, just before dawn, she drifted into a restless slumber, haunted by dreams of the pumpkin patch, of twisting vines reaching out to her, and a figure lurking just beyond the rows of pumpkins.
---
The next morning, Lily was quiet and pale at breakfast. Jake teased her about looking “like a zombie,” but she barely responded. Her parents exchanged worried glances, but they assumed she was just tired.
Over the next few days, the whispers continued. Whenever Lily closed her eyes, she saw visions of the pumpkin patch, the massive pumpkins casting long shadows in the moonlight. She heard voices chanting, calling her to return, and each night the pull grew stronger.
Jake began to notice the change in his sister. She was quiet, withdrawn, and her eyes often looked glassy, as if she were in a trance. When he tried to talk to her, she would stare off into the distance, her gaze unfocused.
Then, on Halloween night, everything changed.
It started with a storm. Thick, dark clouds rolled over the town, blotting out the moon and casting an unnatural darkness over Hollow’s Patch. The wind picked up, carrying a strange, earthy smell that seeped into the farmhouse.
As the storm raged outside, Lily’s parents went to bed early, exhausted from a long day of Halloween festivities. Jake stayed up, scrolling through horror stories online, trying to spook himself a little. But the atmosphere in the house felt different tonight. Every creak, every shadow seemed amplified.
In her room, Lily tossed and turned, her skin slick with sweat. She felt the pull again, stronger than ever, and the voices filled her head, drowning out all other thoughts.
Come to the field… the harvest is waiting…
Suddenly, Lily’s eyes snapped open. She sat up, her face blank, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She moved slowly, deliberately, her gaze fixed and vacant. Without making a sound, she slipped out of her room, walked down the stairs, and opened the front door.
Jake heard the door creak and sat up, a shiver running down his spine. He crept out of his room and looked down the hall, just in time to see Lily disappearing into the darkness.
“Lily!” he hissed, hurrying after her. “Where are you going?”
She didn’t respond, didn’t even seem to hear him. She walked barefoot across the cold ground, her movements mechanical, as if she were in a trance. Jake grabbed a flashlight and followed her, his heart pounding.
“Lily!” he called again, his voice louder, but she kept walking, her eyes fixed ahead.
The wind howled around them, carrying whispers that seemed to come from the very earth itself. Jake’s flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows across the trees and fields. His mind raced, fear clawing at him as he followed his sister down the winding dirt road toward the farm.
The sky was pitch-black, the only light coming from the occasional flash of lightning that illuminated the twisted shapes of the massive pumpkins in the distance. Jake shivered, feeling as though the shadows were alive, watching them.
When they reached the pumpkin patch, Lily stopped abruptly, standing among the enormous pumpkins. Her eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly at the massive pumpkin she’d touched days earlier.
“Lily?” Jake whispered, shining his flashlight on her face.
She didn’t respond. Her lips moved, mouthing words he couldn’t hear, her gaze locked on the pumpkin.
And then, Jake saw it.
The surface of the pumpkin began to ripple, as if something were moving beneath its skin. Shadows twisted and writhed, forming the outline of a face—a hollow, empty face with wide, gaping eyes and a mouth twisted in a silent scream. The face pressed against the surface, stretching the skin of the pumpkin like a membrane.
Jake stumbled back, dropping the flashlight, the beam casting jagged shadows across the field.
“Lily!” he shouted, his voice shaking. “We have to get out of here!”
But Lily’s face remained vacant, her mouth moving in sync with the pumpkin’s silent scream. The vines surrounding the pumpkin began to move, writhing and slithering across the ground like snakes. One vine shot forward, wrapping itself around Jake’s ankle, pulling him closer to the monstrous gourd.
He struggled, kicking at the vine, but more of them surged forward, latching onto his legs and arms, pulling him toward the pumpkin. The shadows within the pumpkin pulsed, growing larger, and the eerie, disembodied voices filled the air, chanting in a language Jake couldn’t understand.
As the vines tightened around him, pulling him closer to the pumpkin’s grotesque face, he glanced at Lily, whose eyes were now completely black, void of any light or life. She began to chant along with the voices, her tone haunting and unnatural.
“Lily!” he screamed, desperate. “Wake up! Snap out of it!”
But Lily continued her chant, her voice blending with the dark chorus as the vines pulled him closer, inch by inch. He clawed at the ground, but it was no use. The pumpkin loomed above him, its twisted face stretching wider, its mouth opening as if to swallow him whole.
And then, with one last desperate scream, the darkness swallowed him.