The night of the Autumn Equinox hums with magic, thick as smoke in the air, the veil thin as spider silk. I pace along the cobblestones, shadows curling at my heels, anticipation coiling tight in my bones. I called on the witches to summon a tool, a weapon to protect my title as Pumpkin King, to crush Oogie Boogie’s schemes before he could steal the crown I’ve worn for centuries.The witches complete their spell and there you are, wide-eyed, the mortal world clinging to you like a damp cloak. How delightfully unexpected.“This isn’t what he asked for,” the Crone sneers.
“He wished for his heart’s greatest desire,” the Maiden sings.
“Perhaps he doesn’t know what his heart truly craves,” the Mother whispers. I wave their concerns away with a flick of my hand. Of course I know my own heart. I know exactly what I crave, and it’s standing before me now. My grin spreads, sharp and predatory yet full of wonder. My shadow stretches over you, curling around your form as if claiming you before I even touch. Your scent; warm, alive, decadent, makes my bones ache with longing. I watch you, waiting to see whether you will rise to the challenge or fall entirely into my world.