Lily awoke the next morning in her bed, staring at the ceiling with wide, glassy eyes. She felt strange, like she was half-dreaming. Her limbs felt heavy, and her thoughts were clouded, as if someone else were there, whispering in the back of her mind. She barely remembered what had happened the night before, but faint images flickered in her mind—the pumpkin patch, eerie faces, her brother’s shouts. It all felt like a bad dream… but was it?
She got up slowly, her body moving almost on its own. Downstairs, her parents sat at the breakfast table, already drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.
“Good morning, sweetie!” her mom said brightly, looking up. “You were sleeping so deeply, I almost didn’t want to wake you.”
“Didn’t feel like I slept at all,” Lily murmured, her voice distant.
Her father frowned. “You okay? You look… tired.”
Lily glanced at the reflection in the hallway mirror. Her face looked pale, almost ghostly, with dark circles under her eyes. But her gaze held something else—a glint that wasn’t her own. She quickly looked away.
“Just had a weird night,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact.
As she sat down, a familiar whisper filled her head, chilling and insistent: Come back… come back to the field… The voice was louder now, more demanding, as if it was claiming a part of her. Lily shivered, gripping the edge of the table. The world around her felt distant, like she was walking through a fog.
Jake wasn’t there. His seat at the table was empty, and his bed had been neatly made when she passed his room. An uneasy feeling crept over her. She wanted to ask her parents if they’d seen him, but the words wouldn’t come out. Somehow, she felt it was better not to bring him up.
Her mother glanced at the clock. “I’m heading out to the market for a bit, hon. Why don’t you rest? You seem out of sorts.”
Lily nodded silently, but as soon as her mother left, she felt the urge building inside her again, stronger and more irresistible than before. She put on her jacket, almost mechanically, and slipped out of the house. Her footsteps carried her down the familiar dirt road, but this time, everything seemed darker. The trees loomed like silent sentries, their branches stretching out like skeletal fingers against the gray morning sky.
The pumpkin patch lay ahead, quiet and cold under the shadowed morning light. It was empty now, the families and laughter from yesterday gone. The massive pumpkins sat like silent giants, their gnarled vines winding through the soil in twisted shapes. The air was thick with an earthy, decaying smell that made her stomach churn, but she couldn’t turn back.
Lily wandered between the pumpkins, her fingers brushing against their rough surfaces. As she touched each one, a vision flashed in her mind: cold, empty faces, buried in the soil, mouths open in silent screams. Each pumpkin seemed to pulse with a dark, twisted life of its own, feeding on something she couldn’t see but could feel, deeply and disturbingly.
The whisper in her head grew louder: You are one of us now… become part of the harvest…
She stumbled forward, her head spinning, trying to resist the voice. “No… leave me alone…”
But it was no use. The voice was too strong, too entwined with her thoughts. She reached the center of the patch, where the massive pumpkin she’d touched the other day sat, looming over her like a twisted sentinel. It seemed even larger now, its dark orange skin mottled with strange patterns, like faces hidden beneath its surface.
Her hands moved without her control, reaching out and pressing against the pumpkin’s cold surface. The moment her fingers touched it, the world spun, and she felt herself slipping away, deeper and deeper, as if the pumpkin was pulling her into a dark, endless void.
She saw visions again, but this time they were clearer—faces she recognized from around town, staring at her with blank, empty eyes. They were the missing people, those who had vanished over the years, each with the same hollow expression, their mouths moving in silent pleas. And there, among them, was Jake, his face twisted in a silent scream, his eyes wide with terror.
“Jake!” she cried, trying to reach him, but her hand passed through him like smoke.
A sharp pain shot through her chest, pulling her back to reality. She gasped, falling to her knees beside the pumpkin, her body trembling. The voices quieted, but the feeling didn’t leave. She could feel it now—a presence inside her, cold and relentless, filling her thoughts with darkness.
She staggered back, trying to breathe, but her chest felt tight, like something was squeezing the life out of her. She stumbled away from the patch, running blindly down the road, desperate to escape the pumpkin’s pull. The fields around her seemed to close in, shadows stretching and twisting as she ran, whispering her name with each gust of wind.
Finally, she reached home and slammed the door shut, leaning against it as she gasped for air. She felt the cold presence settle deeper inside her, like a parasite latching onto her mind. Her vision blurred, and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread.
Lily climbed the stairs, her legs shaking, and stumbled into her room. She collapsed onto the bed, curling up into a ball, her heart racing. She wanted to cry out, but her voice seemed trapped in her throat. And then, slowly, she heard it again—the whisper.
Soon… it will be time for the harvest…
The words echoed in her head, filling her with an overpowering sense of doom. She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to block out the voice, but it only grew louder, resonating through her entire body. She could feel it now, something shifting beneath her skin, creeping through her veins like a dark, twisted vine.
The next few days passed in a haze. Lily barely ate or slept, her mind consumed by the whispers and the eerie visions that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Her parents noticed the change, their worry growing with each passing day.
“You’ve been acting strange, Lily,” her mom said one evening, sitting across from her at the dinner table. “Are you feeling alright?”
Lily nodded, but the words felt hollow. She could feel the presence growing stronger, filling her with an overwhelming urge to return to the patch. She tried to fight it, but each time, the pull became more intense, consuming her thoughts and leaving her in a dazed trance.
Finally, on the eve of Halloween, the urge became too strong to resist.
Late at night, Lily crept out of bed, her body moving as if under someone else’s control. Her steps were slow and mechanical, her gaze vacant as she made her way downstairs and out the door. The night was deathly silent, the wind still as she walked toward the patch, her feet following a path she no longer recognized as her own.
The pumpkin patch lay ahead, bathed in the pale, ghostly light of the full moon. The pumpkins seemed to glow with an unnatural light, their twisted shapes casting long, sinister shadows across the field. The vines had grown even larger, sprawling across the ground like a dark, creeping forest.
Lily walked among the pumpkins, her hand trailing across their rough surfaces as she moved deeper into the patch. She felt the presence inside her stir, filling her with a dark, twisted energy that made her skin crawl. The whisper grew louder, echoing through her mind like a chant.
The harvest is coming… you are one of us now…
She reached the center of the patch, where the largest pumpkin loomed, casting a dark shadow over the field. The twisted face she had seen before seemed clearer now, its hollow eyes staring at her with a cold, malevolent gaze. She felt herself drawn to it, her feet moving of their own accord as she approached the monstrous gourd.
As she touched it, a surge of energy coursed through her, filling her with a strange, euphoric sensation. She could feel the spirits of the others—those who had vanished over the years—surrounding her, their voices blending with her own. They were calling her, pulling her deeper into the darkness, and she could feel herself slipping away.
But then, a faint memory flickered in her mind—Jake’s terrified face, his desperate pleas as he was pulled into the shadows. The image jolted her back to reality, and for a brief moment, she regained control.
“No…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I won’t… let you take me.”
But the presence was too strong, wrapping around her mind like a dark, twisted vine, pulling her back into the depths of the pumpkin’s curse. She could feel herself fading, her thoughts growing hazy as the darkness consumed her.
The last thing she saw before everything went black was the twisted face on the pumpkin, its hollow eyes gleaming with a sinister light as it claimed her as its own.