Tales of Terror

[Dunquixote]

I’m embarrassed about this but I did the best I could do while burnt out.

Spoiler: for participation coins

Recently at Skyhold, Katrina’s popularity skyrocketed. Word has it that their island rep daily uses her services, so all the villagers began lining up first thing in the morning to talk to Katrina to try out her services themselves. The only one who did not was Merry.



Merry was at it again; looking for ways to become famous fast. So far she has tried singing at the tavern, making and trying to sell merchandise promoting herself, cooking, acting, but she failed to get even a single fan.



“Before, nobody cared about Katrina let alone heard of her,” Merry cried out, stomping her feet. “What does she have that I don’t have?” No one answered her except for the rumble of thunder in the distance and the sound of a steam boat nearby.



Merry sighed. It was getting dark so it was about time she headed home. Just as she was about to leave, someone called out to her from the shadows.



“Psst, cousin,” the voice called out to her. “Over here!”



Merry saw someone waving at her; the lighting was too poor to make out who it was. She approached the figure cautiously.



“I heard that you were having some problems,” the suspicious figure said. “Come with me to my boat. I have something that may help solve your problem.”



Something didn’t feel right about this, but Merry decided to follow the stranger anyways since she thought it wouldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say.



Inside the boat, Merry finally could make out who she was talking to. It was Redd! She remembered Isabelle warning about a shady dealer; could this be who she meant? Merry shook her head and told herself now is not the time to have doubts. She had to hear what he had to say.



“I have this special artifact that will guarantee you fame, wealth, you name it,” Redd said, pointing to an item that was covered by a towel. He removed the towel and beneath it was an unusual looking power stone.



The crystal was pristine with not even a speck of dust on it; the base was embellished with gold lettering and symbols, all unfamiliar to Merry. There was something eerie about the object and it gave her an awful feeling, yet she was desperate to try anything different from what she was doing before.



“This stone was said to come from a long line of successful fortunate tells. It was passed down for generations and brought each of them tremendous fame. I can sell it to you for a mere 50,000 bells. Normally it’d be at least 100,000 bells but I can give you a cousin’s discount.”



“I’ll buy it,” Merry said immediately. She knew she was behaving irrationally but she couldn’t pass this chance up. Even if the chances of this working was slim, she still wanted to try rather than continue to embarrass herself with the ideas that she has come up with so far.



The next day, Merry decided to try to use the power stone. Her paws were shaking since she couldn’t shake off this bad feeling; at the same time, she was thrilled. This is it! she thought. I’ll soon be famous. She had no idea how to use the stone but she felt like she could figure it eventually.



“Crystal ball, please grant my wish; I wish to be famous and successful,” Merry said as she pressed her paws against the crystal. The crystal lit up and then dark clouds began to swirl around inside. After a few moments passed, the crystal returned to its normal state.



Merry wasn’t sure if it worked, but she decided to wait to see the next day if anything changed.



The following day, Merry went to the island’s tavern, hoping to see an adoring crowd of people or some sign that something happened when she used the power stone. When she arrived, there was a crowd but, they fell silent when they saw her. Some of the villagers whispered to each other and pointed at her.



“Hi everyone! What’s going on?” Merry asked, pretending to not notice their unusual behavior.



Everyone just looked at each other silently and then quickly dispersed.



That was weird, Merry thought. Maybe today was not a good day for everyone and maybe the power stone didn’t work. She’ll give it some time before she tries using it again.



The rest of the week went by and she did not see anyone. She did feel like she was constantly being watched though, as she passed by other villagers’ homes.



“Now would probably be a good time to talk to Katrina; she’d probably have some idea what is going on,” Merry thought. “But, surely this is just an off week and things will return to normal and my wish will be granted too, right?”



A month later, on one gloomy day, Merry woke up to the sound of angry voices yelling outside her house and banging on her door.



“Get out here at once,” one angry villager demanded.



“We know you’re in there!” another villager chimed in as he banged loudly on her door.



“It’s all your fault that things have come to this! Come out and take responsibility!” a third villager shouted.



Merry was trembling; she was scared. She never heard the others this upset before. Just as she was about to reach out to open the door, she saw something shining in the corner of her room, partially covered by a blanket. Without thinking, she reached out to touch it; everything then went black and then she lost consciousness.



When she regained consciousness, she found herself not in her home but outside. Everything was burning outside, even the sky seemed like it was burning since the color looked ominously red. The ground was littered with turnips, scattered bells and trash.



Merry rubbed her eyes. Was this all a nightmare? In the distance, she thought she could hear someone saying her name. She tried to make it out, but their voice disappeared completely and all she could hear was the surrounding and chaos.



She was now hearing some screams but she didn’t see where they were coming from. Merry tried to move forward but she felt frozen and weak. She was really frightened.

Was this all because she messed with that suspicious power stone?



“That’s right,” a mysterious voice in her head said. “Have you learned your lesson about meddling with cursed items that aren’t meant to be used?”



Merry nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes! If I could go back and undo the decision I made back at the boat, I would!”



Suddenly, the scenery changed and she found herself back on the beach on her island. She saw no trash, turnips, scattered bells or flames. Everything seemed to be back to normal. She knew what she had to now do.



“I heard that you were having some problems,” a suspicious figure said. “Come with me to my boat. I have something that may help solve your problem.”



Merry shook her head, “No, you sly Fox. In fact, I will be reporting you to Resident Services.”

 

[Kirbyz]

Spoiler: Beyond The Fog

“Moe, wait up!”, I called out excitedly to my feline friend. I was finally able to catch up to him. “I’ve been calling out your name, didn’t you hear me?”, I let out an exasperated breath. “Huh? Oh, sorry Rin, I guess I didn’t hear you. I’ve been lost in thought.”, Moe stated. Taking a glance at him, I could see he wasn’t his usual self. There was something on his mind, but what? Eager to find out, I gave him a slight nudge with my elbow. “Care to share?”. He glanced away and brushed it off, saying it was nothing. Odd. Normally, he’d jump at the chance to spill everything on his mind. Moe’s a huge chatterbox; it’s one of his best qualities! I decided not to push it. We continued to trot along the path of the forest to our homes.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Moe’s scream. We live right across each other, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was able to hear a shriek that loud. I rushed out of bed and quickly made my way outside, still in my pj’s. I insistently started knocking on his door, “Moe, is everything okay in there??”. No answer. “Moe, are you alright??”. Still nothing. “Alright Moe.. I’m coming in!”, I exclaimed as I barged into his house. There he was, on his living room floor, frozen with shock. I glanced over to where he was staring, to be met with.. a lamp? Some grand, polished looking desk lamp, wow.. “What the heck is going on here!?”, I said all confused. “It.. it started flickering all on its own, and when I went to go turn it off, my hand started disappearing!”, Moe exclaimed. Excuse me, what? His hand started disappearing? Was Moe doing okay? I started to worry. “Moe.. did you get enough sleep last night?”, I asked worriedly. “I’m serious, Rin!! I recently ordered it off amazon, and just my luck, the thing turns out to be haunted..”, Moe said, dead serious. Okay, I’m one to believe in myths and fantasies, but some cursed desk lamp? Am I dreaming right now? Did I forget to wake up? I pinched myself. “Ow! Oh, guess this is real life.”, I said, content. I looked over at Moe and he looked genuinely scared of that thing. I guess the only way to find out is to turn it off myself! I walked over to the lamp. Geez, this thing looked way too high tech for a desk lamp. How much did he pay for this thing? …Off topic. Moving on! I reached over to switch the light off, and then.. “Rin, look! I told you, didn’t I??”, Moe shrieked as he pointed to my hand. MY HAND! It started to disappear right before my eyes, turning translucent, like a ghost! I swiped my hand away immediately. “Oh, great going, Moe! All we needed was a cursed lamp in our lives.”, I sighed. “Is that seriously all you have to say?? Didn’t you see what happened?! WHY AREN’T YOU FREAKING OUT?!?”, Moe paced back and forth. “Chill out, dude! Let’s toss it somewhere. It’ll disappear from our lives the same way it entered. No need to panic!”, I calmly said. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? It came in two weeks ago, and ever since then, constant bad luck has been following me! Yesterday was the last straw, so I grabbed it and went to go toss it outside, but the thing started shaking in my hands so I got spooked and left it be.. Until today. You saw what happened.”. Yesterday, huh? So that’s what was on his mind. “Hmm.. Moe, you got any gloves?”, I asked. “Yeah, they should be under the kitchen sink. Why?”, Moe answered. I walked over to the kitchen, opened the cupboard under the sink and grabbed the cleaning gloves. “Here, put these on. Let’s see..”, I handed a pair of gloves over to Moe, and put on a pair myself. I walked over to that freaky desk lamp and reached over to grab it. “You don’t seriously think gloves are going to prevent the phenomenon of that demon lamp turning our hands to nothingness, do you?”, Moe questioned. I grabbed it. I grabbed.. the lamp. That seriously worked. “Are you kiddin- honestly, I’m in no place to question anything anymore. Let’s get that thing outta here!”, Moe exclaimed excitedly. We ran over to the car, dunked the lamp, and hopped in. We drove along the path to the forest. This thing needed to get far away from us!

Driving deeper into the forest, we finally were far enough where we were comfortable dropping the lamp off. (Geez, like it’s a passenger or something!). We hopped out of the car and opened the trunk. It was flickering again, so I went to turn it off. It should be fine now with gloves on, right? I pressed the button, and the light turned red. What? Does this thing have a colour feature? “Is it just me or is it really foggy in this part of the woods? I can barely make out anything around us.. it sure would suck to get lost out here.”, my thoughts were cut off by Moe. I grabbed the lamp and closed the trunk. It was time to get rid of this wretched thing. “Whoa, since when was that red? Did you click something, Rin?”, Moe asked. “I just clicked the power button, no idea what happened with the light.”, I answered. “Alright.. here we go!”. I pulled my arm back and threw the lamp as far beyond the fog as I could. Out of sight, out of mind, right? “Phew, I’m at ease now. Thanks for your help, Rin. Let’s head back home.”, Moe said. We turned around expecting to see the car, only to be met with.. fog. How is that… possible? We were just by the car! We didn’t walk far enough from it where it would just disappear from sight. I looked over at Moe, he was just as confused as I was. Uh-oh.

“Face it, we’re lost! How much farther are we going to walk.. everywhere we go it’s just fog, fog, FOG!", Moe complained. “Less talking, more walking, my friend!”, I said. I glanced over at my phone. Still no service. I didn’t want to show it, but I was worried too. We’re stuck out in a forest in the dead of night, unable to call for help, and we’ve been aimlessly walking for what felt like hours. It felt hopeless. What are we gonna do? Suddenly, we came across something much too familiar. “The desk lamp.. are you joking? Can we never get rid of this thing?”, I sighed. “It’s all the curse of the desk lamp! We’re stuck out here cause it’s dripping with bad luck..”, Moe practically shouted, completely done with this stinky lamp. I wholeheartedly agreed, whether it was crazy or not. We’ve already lost our minds out here. We needed to get rid of it once and for all, only then would we be able to find our way out of these woods. I glanced over at Moe. He glanced back. We nodded our heads in unison as if we knew what the other was thinking. We needed to sneak attack this thing.. inanimate or not, this lamp’s shady! We started circling around the desk lamp like lunatics. Its light still red continued to flicker in our midst. Moe and I started eyeing the surrounding area for weapons of attack.. there! Rocks! That’ll do the trick. As if the lamp was watching our every move, we quickly grabbed the biggest rocks we could find and pounced that lamp like our lives depended on it. We started smashing its lampshade in, twisted its linkage bars, pulled out its springs, and sure enough, it was left in shambles. I almost felt bad for the thing. SIKE! Sucka. Subsequently, like a miracle, the fog started clearing, and we were able to see the beauty of the forest again. “The car!”, Moe shouted. It was there! We ran over to it, hopped in, and drove back to our homes without looking back. When we finally made it, we walked over to our houses, said our goodnights, and went in like nothing happened. Tomorrow's a new day, after all!

did you learn anything from this story? neither did i ​

 

[That Marshal Fangirl]

This is so long but I got caught up and couldn’t stop writing

Spoiler: The Long Weekend

Time. The thing we are constantly trying to make the most out of because it’s so limited. Who hasn’t, in the midst of the whirlwind of school, work, or a million other responsibilities, briefly wished that they could put things on pause? I shared that mentality for most of my life, from shouldering advanced classes in high school, to trying to balance a part-time job and college, and finally a mind-numbing full time office job with adult bills. 48 hours on the weekend is simply not enough for rest and recovery, especially when one also needs to grocery shop and clean their small apartment.

One Saturday, I got up early and decided I was sick of the monotony. I would go somewhere new today, somewhere besides the grocery store and the sad retail chain where I got my low-quality clothes. I dressed for the day and headed out from my apartment, deciding to walk since the day was sunny. I passed by countless people, all undoubtedly rushing through their busy lives like myself. Eventually, I spotted a sign hanging above the sidewalk that I couldn’t remember ever seeing before, although it wasn’t as if I took casual walks all that often anymore. “Thrifted Treasures”, it read, in chipping gold paint on slightly rotted wood. Intrigued despite the decaying sign, I pulled the heavy glass door and stepped inside.

The inside of the store was much darker than the brightness of outside, and had a distinctive scent of must and old things in general. It was filled wall to wall with what one might expect from a store such as this: Antique dolls, shelves of heavy, dusty books, and jewelry and knickknacks that were all at least 50 years old. There was only one other person in there with me; a little old man with spectacles behind the counter who was absorbed in the daily newspaper. Not wanting to bother him, I began wandering around the shelves and tables, touching and studying various items that interested me. After awhile, a glint of gold in the corner of my eye caused me to turn, revealing a glass case in a beam of sunlight.

The case itself was old but unremarkable, as were most of the trinkets behind the glass. However, the gold flash that caught my attention came from an intricate porcelain music box: a carefully-constructed ballerina with one leg in the air, and a golden pocket watch necklace around her neck. I’d never been interested in delicate old objects like this before, much preferring decorations of the modern age…but there was something drawing me to it. I slowly reached out and grasped the handle of the glass case, a bit surprised when it opened with ease. I took the music box into my hands, the weight of the porcelain cold and noticeable. I brought the object to the front desk, clearing my throat to get the old gentleman’s attention.

The shop owner set down his newspaper, but there was an undeniable flash of confusion in his expression when he saw what I had brought. He mumbled something that sounded like “Thought I sold that…” before clearing his throat and examining the price tag on the music box. “$75. Genuine porcelain with 24 karat gold around her neck. Close to one hundred years old.” The price made me cringe internally, as I tried to save as much as I could and not purchase frivolous things. However, somehow I felt as if I *needed* this. Without putting in anymore thought, I pulled out my wallet and paid with cash. The owner wrapped the music box up, and I made my way home with my new possession.

I unwrapped my prize immediately, setting it on the dresser in the corner of my room. When I sat on my bed, I had a clear view of the ballerina’s figure. Suddenly remembering the purpose of the trinket, I picked it up and twisted the bottom until it clicked, before setting it back down. A pleasant, lullaby-esque melody began to play, as the ballerina spun around and around. Using the song as ambience, I began to tidy up around my room.

I could tell I’d been working awhile when I finally took a break, considering the sheen of sweat on my forehead. I checked my phone out of habit, and confusion wracked my mind when I saw it had only been ten minutes since I started. Which didn’t seem physically possible, as I’d been very thorough. I decided to shrug it off as being strangely efficient, as I couldn’t think of a better explanation. After regarding the current time carefully, I went to make myself lunch.

I boiled water, made mac n cheese, ate, and washed my dish, all of which should have taken me at least 40 minutes. But when I checked my phone, only 7 minutes had passed. Starting to feel more nervous and suspicious, I went to take a shower but put a timer on before I did so. My weekend showers were one of my guilty pleasures, so I took at least an hour each time. When I finally exited the shower and checked the timer, my heart began to race when I saw 11 minutes had gone by. Something was very off.

I dressed myself and walked back to my room, eyeing the smiling ballerina on my dresser. She had stopped playing only a minute or so after I wound her up, like any normal music box. I eyed her suspiciously, but told myself firmly that I was probably just overly paranoid. Feeling a bit sleepy after my shower, I lay on the bed and eventually dozed off, enjoying a rare nap. I woke up an unknown amount of time later, feeling more refreshed than I had in a long time. The sun still seemed to be in the same place as it had when I fell asleep, though…weird.

I fumbled for my phone again and checked the time, heart skipping a beat when I realized it’d only been a few short minutes. I squinted at the music box on the dresser, the ballerina looking just the same as before. I wasn’t necessarily scared yet, just…confused. Deciding, foolishly perhaps, that I should try an experiment instead of panicking, I went to the living room and switched on the TV. My favorite show consisted of episodes that were exactly 25 minutes each, so I’d know for sure how much time was supposed to go by. I sat on the couch and played the first episode, credits and all. A check of my phone at the end revealed it had been five minutes. Just as I suspected.

I knew immediately it must have something to do with the ballerina music box. Which logistically was pure nonsense, since objects that slow time don’t exist. But the proof was right in front of me. One part of my brain screamed at me to get rid of it. The other part, the part that was tired of never having any free time and scrambling to get things done, wanted the opposite. And so I did what every dumb horror movie character does: ignored my gut feeling.

I continued with my day instead, accomplishing far more than I had in several full weekends. The time slowing effect lasted until I finally went to bed that night, and dissipated by morning, as proven by my phone’s clock. It was Sunday, and I stupidly decided I’d love a repeat of yesterday before going back to work. I got up and twisted the ballerina’s stand again, the same melody as before playing as I got dressed. Already feeling far too comfortable with this “gift”, I set about doing whatever I wanted.

Breakfast was extremely slow and leisurely, eaten in front of the TV. I cleaned the apartment, read for awhile, and scrolled on my phone. All of this only took up a small chunk of the day. I went shopping for groceries and for clothes, meandering around for far too long just because I could. I took a walk, ate lunch at a restaurant, and went home and napped. After everything, my clocks indicated it was only early midday. By now, I was thoroughly enjoying the power the music box seemed to have brought me. When the long, long day finally ended, I felt very refreshed and actually ready for work. Fully accepting the slowed time as a privilege, I went to bed feeling much less apprehensive.

My alarm went off the next morning at its usual hour, and I drowsily grabbed my phone so I could shut off the alarm and get ready for work. However, a notification for an important email appeared on my lock screen, which I quickly opened. My vision was still a little blurry from sleep, but I could make out the bright red letters at the top that read “NOTICE OF TERMINATION”. I snapped awake immediately, sitting up and reading the email entirely. It was from my boss. He stated I hadn’t been to work in two weeks, and calls to my apartment had been futile. Confusion and fear mingled together in my brain. Two weeks? It had only been two days…right?

My fingers trembled as I clicked on the calendar app of my phone, my eyes widening at the highlighted date. It was Monday, alright. But not the Monday it was supposed to be. My pulse rushed in my ears as my eyes slowly looked up from my screen to the ballerina still sitting on my dresser. She looked almost ominous now, her smile seeming much less sweet. While time had felt so slow for me, in reality it was progressing without my knowledge.

Feeling almost blind with panic, I jumped from the bed and snatched the music box up. Still in pajamas, I ran out the door, got in my car, and drove to the nearby lake. With the strength of the fear and anger that now consumed me, I flung the time stealing ballerina as hard as I could, watching as she splashed into the water and sunk. I drove back to my apartment and called my boss, who of course didn’t believe a word of what I said. I was jobless, and thoroughly shaken by the time I had missed…but at least I was back in reality. Time went by normally after that, much to my relief. I eventually got a new job, and contented myself with 48 hour weekends.

Unbeknownst to me, however, not even 24 hours after I threw that accursed music box into the lake, the case in “Thrifted Treasures” gained a smiling ballerina once more.

 

[LadyDestani]

Final Reminder: This event ends on Thursday, October 31st at 11:59pm EDT. That's less than 24 hours from now!

There have been so many wonderful stories submitted so far! I'm tired so I'll have to catch up on the recent submissions tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to reading them too.

 

[digimon]

 the locket of the sea 

word count: 547 

Spoiler: ☆☆☆

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 long long ago, there was a small town by the sea which was constantly covered in a thick and dense fog. it would seem to come and go in waves almost at times. it's commonly known between the elders of the town that this fog was the result of some type of curse. this fog made it incredibly difficult for fisherman and other boats to traverse the waters by the town. "ah, it must be rolling in now...." the elders could always tell when the fog was about to over take the town. it would almost make everything feel somber and it carried a sadness throughout the town. locals have moved in and out of the town as it became incredibly difficult to live and make a living there.

 legend has it that the fog is a result of a young woman who lost someone. there was once a young woman who lived in the town who fell in love, and was given a silver locket from the one she loved. the locket was heart shaped and had small sapphires encrusted onto it. on the back, it had a message engraved on it that read "you have my heart, always." the one who gave it to her worked out in the sea, and one fateful night after a treacherous storm....they never returned. she was utterly heartbroken and it was almost as if she was lost to the world. she'd often go down to the waters and would spend hours just staring out to the sea that claimed her love. grief-stricken, she one day walked out into the sea. as she walked on her sadness overcame her and consumed her. she slowly turned into seafoam, becoming one with the sea where her beloved was lost. "i will join you...and become one with the sea that took you from me...." only the locket remained, which slowly sunk down into the deep depths of the ocean.

 the legends go on to say that that anyone who finds the locket and tries to wear it, is instantly cursed and dissolves into sea foam. the curse only lifts if the locket is returned to it's final resting place in the sea by the person who fished it out. it has been said that sailors, travelers and others that work in the sea have found the locket after accidentally fishing it out. there have been many that hadn't figured out how to break the curse and in their greed, tried to keep the locket for themselves. but no matter how long it would take the locket would always somehow end up back in the ocean. be it magic or the effects of the curse, at night almost as if it was being carried by the woman herself, the locket would make its way down to the the piers before slipping back down under the waters. the effects of the curse become permanent if the locket returns itself there. over the course of time, every now and then people started disappearing. the townspeople didn't know what to make of it at all. eventually time went on and the locket remained lost at sea. but to this day...the woman's sadness can be felt and seen each and every time a blanket of fog rolls in.​

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[local korok]

Here is my contribution :3 (word count: 1,224)

Spoiler: Don’t open spooky boxes

The night threatened to drag on, the heat sticky and unrelenting, the mosquitos attracted to the salt in his sweat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The offensive smell of smoke wafted through the woods as the nearby brush became engulfed within the carnivorous flames. Although they flickered near, dancing just in the corner of his vision, he couldn’t stop. Not when he was so close. Blood mixed with dirt and ash as he clawed desperately at the ground, his resolve only growing stronger by the second. This was his life’s work, he couldn’t give up now, not after everything that he had already done to get here-

His nails, broken at the quick, struck something hard. Something solid. A shiver ran down his spine and he dug faster, earnest to claim his prize. The flames were licking his boots by the time he finally grabbed it free and ran, heart racing, out of the woods.

He didn’t make it past the clearing before, spontaneously, he vanished.

Officers at the scene the next morning described quite a peculiar sight- footprints, they said. 2 pairs of them, and although the ash lay thick and heavy on the ground, the footprints were still fresh, as if they had just passed by. And, weirdly enough, they both stopped right at the edge of the tree line, where a metal box lay, neat and tidy as if it had been placed down with the utmost care. The fire had long died and the morning held a unique chill, yet the box was almost scalding to the touch. Pristine, they described in their reports. The box was in pristine condition.

The box was marked as evidence and filed away, the case cold and long forgotten by the time I found it.

The old police station had been long abandoned, and years had passed since anyone had even stepped foot inside that small storage closet they used to pass as an evidence locker. Growing towns call for growing reinforcements and bigger buildings, so leases were signed, boxes were moved, and many a mice had come and gone. Yet, somehow, this box lay behind, peaking through a pile of fraying documents as if it were waiting to be found.

If only I hadn’t opened the box, if maybe I had never taken to exploring the old station in my free time, none of this would have ever happened. But I did, and it did, and well…there’s no going back now.

If you find this letter, I only hope you don’t find the box. I only hope you don’t step foot in this long forsaken town- I hope, oh god I truly hope. I’m sending this out to every newspaper I can think of, so please, if you’re reading this, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It started that night. I took the box home, thinking it was some cool antique that nobody would miss. Maybe I could turn it into a jewelry box, or give it to my grandma to display inside her house. That was mistake number 1- if you find something strange that might be haunted, don’t take it home. And certainly don’t open it.

I don’t remember everything, perhaps it’s a defense mechanism, maybe it just doesn’t want me to remember. It certainly doesn’t want me to warn you. But I do remember the sense of being followed- not entirely unusual, I am an easily startled person and every cracking leaf makes me paranoid (…if only it had worked when it really counted). Night came quick, the days growing ever shorter as the seasons changed and the chill came with it. I took the same path home, saw the same neighbors and looked at the same street signs that I had almost every day of my life. Something was different that night, though. I had the sense that everyone smiled a little too hard and waved a little too long, a little too eagerly. And although the moon shone high and bright, it was eerily quiet that night. No crickets or frogs or barking dogs. Just my footsteps and the creeping sense that something was wrong. I chalked it up to sleep deprivation and stress. What I wouldn’t give for those to be my only worries now.

Nothing was different when I entered my house. I set the box on the counter to be forgotten about once more as I set about making dinner, consumed by my thoughts and the faint pang of hunger that had snuck in as I walked home.

The box remained there until I was about to fall asleep. I don’t even remember why I opened it, just that I did. And because I did, you must never, I repeat never, ever come near this town, if it is even still here by the time you get this.

I can only hope.

As soon as I opened the box, I was blinded, the bright light disorienting me as I stumbled to close the lid. A feeling of dread overtook me when I realized, no matter how hard I tried, that I couldn’t. And that’s when everything changed.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but my body certainly held it against me when I awoke the next morning on the cold tile of my kitchen floor. I almost didn’t remember what had happened, and as I stumbled to the bathroom, everything seemed normal. Until I looked in the mirror. And down at my hands. Fur. Everywhere. I stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what I saw. I think I passed out again, but somehow, I found myself out on the street, the sun hot and heavy above as my neighbors went about their day.

You would think it was any ordinary day, the birds were chirping, the kids were playing. Across the street, a lawnmower rumbled steadily onward and somewhere around the corner I heard the jolly call of the mailman as he passed out the newspapers. A day like any other. I stumbled out of the way before I almost got ran over by a bicycle and a laughing kid.

Or, rather, what used to be a kid.

You’d think it was normal at first glance, too, the way everyone went about their day. And then you would notice the ears. And the tails. And the feathers and the fur and the-

I’m sorry, it’s hard for me to think about. I sat there, right there on my front step, watching everyone for hours. Nobody said anything to indicate they thought anything was wrong. I sat there, too, in utter silence as someone sauntered across my lawn to hand me a brochure for the new HOA they were creating. I had never seen him before, certainly not here, and everyone seemed too happy, too welcoming of our newfound conditions.

I made my way back inside as the sun set, that stupid box staring at me, taunting and condescending. It seemed to laugh at me, to ridicule me for opening it and unleashing this curse on my town. It has since disappeared again, and I have given up trying to find it. I had no luck destroying it, but maybe you will. However, I pray you never have to try. I am resigned to my fate, the demons that control my town have long since taught me that resistance is futile. I only hope the disease is contained here, within these newly constructed walls, and hasn’t spread to you yet.

Oh, and before I sign off-

If someone named Tom Nook tries reaching out to you, definitely don’t answer.

 

[Chibi.Hoshi]

Spoiler: Dragon's Eye

In a small, peaceful village, a legend told of a mysterious pearl known as the "Dragon's Eye". This iridescent black pearl is rumoured to reveal the true nature of a person’s heart, showing the depths of their soul. Drawn by its beauty, many sought it without knowing the terrible curse it carried.

Bertha, a young woman with a heart for adventure, became intrigued by tales of treasures and mysteries. She spent late nights poring over ancient books and maps, her imagination filled with far-off places. One stormy night, she stumbled upon a dusty tome detailing the Dragon's Eye and its hidden location within treacherous caves beneath jagged cliffs, not far from her home.

Though villagers warned her of the dangers, Bertha felt compelled to seek out the pearl. Driven by the legend, she set out toward the cliffs, her heart racing with anticipation. The wind tugged at her clothes and howled around her, and waves crashed far below as she pressed on, driven by the thrill of discovery.

After navigating steep, rocky paths, Bertha found the cave entrance, a dark maw that seemed to swallow the light. Inside, the air was thick and damp, and quiet drips of water echoing around her. Her heart pounded with both fear and exhilaration, but she couldn’t turn back now.

Deep in the cave, on a stone pedestal, she found it, the Dragon’s Eye, beautiful yet foreboding. Its unsettling beauty drew her closer. As she reached for it, a chill ran through her, and darkness enveloped her, and clouded her vision. The curse took hold, filling her mind with visions of betrayal and greed among the villagers she loved. Beneath the smiles, her friends seemed to transform into strangers, and Bertha was filled with despair, washing over her.

Returning to the village, Bertha wasn't the same. She isolated herself and was haunted by the curse’s visions. The villagers noticed the change in her, something was not right, and while some worried, others thought she had lost her mind. Days passed, and Bertha became like a ghost of her former self, weighed down by what she had seen.

Each day blended into the next, becoming a haze, until a single moment broke through, a knock at her door. Heart pounding, Bertha opened it cautiously, to find one of the villagers standing there, concern in their eyes. They had come with kindness, their voice soft and sincere. But to Bertha, their face appeared warped, twisted by the curse’s relentless grip on her mind. The visions gnawed at her, distorting even the gentlest gestures.

As her thoughts spiraled, the villager’s voice cut through, steady and reassuring, “Everything is going to be okay, Bertha". It was the first time in ages anyone had spoken her name, and that single word seemed to restore a small, forgotten piece of her soul.

Desperate to break free, Bertha returned to the cave one final time, carrying the cursed pearl. As she entered, a familiar wave of despair washed over her. At the pedestal, she carefully placed the Dragon’s Eye back in its resting place.

In that instant, the darkness lifted, and a gentle light filled the cave. Bertha left the cave feeling as though a burden had been lifted, and when she stepped outside, the warmth of the sun greeted her, in what felt like an eternity. She felt free, grateful to have left the curse behind.

Word count: 567 words.

 

[LoveGraceMarie]

The Cursed Coins

It was Halloween night. The entire island had been looking forward to this day. As Jack was busy recruiting helpers and everyone was running around trying to scare each other, Merry, Portia, and Goldie were out trick or treating. Having already visited around half of the houses, they strolled together with their candy baskets in hand on their way to the next.

When suddenly, Goldie noticed something out of the corner of her eye. “Guys look!” She pointed, “there’s a tent in the campsite!” The girls all looked the way of the campsite which, sure enough, had a tent pitched. “That’s strange,” Portia questioned “Isabelle didn’t mention a visitor in her morning announcements.” “No matter!” Said Merry cheerfully. “Let’s show them Halloween spirit while they’re here!” The girls approached the campsite as normal, not thinking anything of it, and stopped just outside the door. “Hello?” Goldie called out. “Trick or treat!” They chorused. No reply. “Let’s go inside.” Portia offered.

As she unzipped the door and stepped inside, confusion fell onto their faces. The tent had no one inside. “That’s strange, who’s camping here today?” Merry asked. As the radio in the corner played K.K. Dirge, their eyes fell onto a pile of shiny golden coins on a stool in the center of the tent. Next to them was a note that read “please take one”. Portia shrugged, “well, they’ve left us a gift!” “Maybe they had to go home early and didn’t have time to pack up the tent?” Goldie assumed. Each girl approached the stool and reluctantly took a coin. Nothing happened. “Well, that’s that!” Portia laughed as they placed each coin in their pockets. As they all exited, she zipped the front door back up.

“Okay,” Merry sighed, “who’s house is next?” As she looked around, she began to cough. “Are you okay?” Goldie asked. “Oh, I don’t know.” Merry managed, “I suddenly don’t feel well.” “Let us know if you want to go home.” Portia told her. “We’ll stop by Nook’s Cranny on the way back and buy some medicine…” The end of her sentence trailed off as she noticed Goldie walking away. “Goldie, where are you going?” She asked, but Goldie didn’t answer. With glassed-over eyes, she began walking towards a cliff edge. “What are you doing!” Portia gasped as she grabbed her paw. She snapped out of her trance. “Oh,” she whispered, “I don’t know! I just blacked out!” And before she could manage another word, Portia meowed. Goldie and Merry looked at her puzzled. “Portia, did you just meow?” Merry asked. “I didn’t do that!” Portia snapped. “It just came out! MEOW!” She clapped a paw over her mouth.

Just then, Isabelle strolled past. “Hi guys!” She called out cheerfully. “Hi Isabelle,” Merry managed with a small cough, “while we have you, do you know who’s camping here today?” Isabelle glanced at the tent behind them. “Oh, I don’t know!” She answered, “I didn’t know anyone was camping today. Nobody made themselves known this morning and I haven’t seen anyone visiting aside from Jack!” “Does Jack have a tent?” Goldie asked. “He doesn’t,” Isabelle replied, “he took the seaplane here and he’s catching a flight back home once the night is over.” The three girls shared concerned glances. “I have to go now anyway.” Isabelle said with a cheery smile, “enjoy the rest of your night!” She skipped away and left Merry, Portia, and Goldie in silence.

“We need to return the coins.” Portia said with a note of concern. “MEOW! I mean, NOW!” They hurried back into the tent, Portia almost breaking the zip in speed. They fished the coins they took from their pockets, placed them back onto the stool, closed the door, and ran away. They didn’t look back.

“I feel better now.” Merry said. “So do I!” Goldie agreed. “I’m not meowing anymore as well.” Confirmed Portia. “Whose tent was that…?” Goldie asked. After a pause, Portia replied “I don’t know. We have to tell Isabelle to make an announcement telling people not to go in there.” Finally, they turned around. They saw nothing but an empty campsite. And with that, their feet kicked up the path from underneath them as they sprinted away.

705 words

 

[Aerith]

1093 words!

Spoiler: A Peculiar Piece

There was once a man whose wealth was beyond measure, at least as far as the other town residents were concerned. His luxurious home sat on a hill overlooking the town, a position he felt was worthy of his status. Each day, he would take a stroll down to the center of the town, accompanied by two guards who trailed behind him – he would not have them detract from his appearance.

“Hey, mister! Shine your shoes for a copper?”
“Is that a new hat you’re wearing? It looks mighty nice on you.”
“Care for a delicious apple? Only the finest for you, sir.”

When he’d had his fill of attention, he’d call for the carriage to take him back up to his home – he could not trouble himself with a sweat.

The wealthy man took many vacations, and on one such trip, he found himself inside an antique store. To his disappointment, they possessed only a small selection of jewelry. He prided himself in his ability to identify craftsmanship - brands, locations, materials - and would call them out aloud as he perused the shop’s wares.

“You are well-traveled, my friend. Your knowledge is admirable,” The owner spoke as she cleaned.

The man lifted his gaze towards her, a smug smile stretching his lips, “Like no one you’ve ever met.”

The woman chuckled, “Perhaps not.”

His eyes shifted towards her hands; she was fiddling with the most beautiful brooch he’d ever seen. The way the light reflected off the jewels, the precise placement of each, the silver fastening…!

“I must know who created this beauty. It’s nothing like anything I’ve ever seen! That’s a feat in itself!” He wished to wrestle it from her unworthy fingers, but he was a gentleman and restrained himself.

“The maker… they are long dead. And preferred to remain anonymous,” she noticed that his eyes were still lingering on the accessory, “… It’s not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale.” Digging into his coat pocket, he procured several coins, though far less than the true value of the piece. She stared at them in front of her.

“This is a piece that reflects the wearer’s soul to the world. Are you confident it will be something you want others to see?”

Dismissing her with his hand, he shook his head, “Bah, you artistic types! I’ll be taking that brooch now, my good lady.”

---

The next day, when he had returned home, he could not wait to show off in front of the townspeople. After checking himself in the mirror, he fastened the brooch to his clothing and sauntered down the hill as usual.

It could not have gone better in his imagination. Not a word was spoken to him as he walked, no charity to give out, no drivel to listen to – the people simply stared at him in awe. His bejeweled cane slammed against the ground with each step, as if to announce his presence. But with the brilliant brooch on his person, he hardly needed it – the man felt like he was a celestial body, the sun itself! It was only natural such a piece would bring out his radiance! Feeling energized, he strolled an extra loop around before being taken back to his abode.

---

Strangely, as he went about the rest of his day, his servants felt more distant than usual. He’d never wanted them around for longer than he needed them, but he felt a scratching at his mind that it seemed like they were actively avoiding interaction. His attendant had even left his nighttime dose of medicine on his bedside table, without waiting to remove it from his room! Shrugging it off, he resolved to inquire about it tomorrow. After changing into his silky sleepwear, he fixed the brooch to his chest, and joked to himself, “If the sun is going to sleep, perhaps I’ll wake to a cold world.”

---

The man awoke in darkness.

At first, he thought he’d gotten up in the middle of the night. He called out for one of his servants; there was no reply. Frustrated, he threw the blankets off of himself and stormed over to the window, throwing open the curtains and –

The windows were boarded up.

The man’s fear was palpable as he screamed for his servants once more. When silence roared in response, his legs scrambled for the exit. Struggling with the lack of light, he managed to crawl to his front door and overheard two people talking outside.

“What is the meaning of this?” The wealthy man yelled.

“Ah, there he is. Sir, us townsfolk don’t want to catch what you’ve got. Better to keep it locked up in that fancy house of yours. Sorry, but them’s the breaks.”

“Let me out at once! I’ll call the authorities!”

“I am the authorities. This has been a courtesy call. I’ll be taking my leave, now. Best of luck with… whatever that is.” He mumbled something to the other person and their footsteps began to move away from the house.

What are they possibly talking about?

A feeling of dread washed over him as he caught a streak of sunlight peeking from one of the windows. He took a hand mirror (oh, he had so many!) from a nearby table, and his trembling body made its way over to the sliver on the floor, holding the mirror to his face.

He did not recognize himself. How could he recognize himself? His hair was withered and bone white, his eyes a bloodshot red. His skin had taken on sickly shades of yellow and green, and his entire body was covered in raised bumps that oozed a purple pus. The mirror threatened to drop from his shaking hands.

How could this have happened? His body felt no different than he had yesterday. He was an exceptionally clean and careful man, youthful and full of vigor. At no point during his travels had he been approached by someone afflicted with disease, and he would have given them a wide berth if he had!

Still in disbelief, he raised a finger to touch a blemish but found his skin as smooth as it had been before. He rubbed his fingers together, not a speck of liquid on them.

“It’s that damned brooch!” The man tore it from his breast and threw it at the wall, slamming his body against the door.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Please, just look at me now! There’s nothing wrong with me!”

...

There was no reply.

 

[himekirako]

Spoiler: spoiler

Have you heard of the rumours surrounding this wooden music box? If you haven’t, well let me tell you. There once was a girl who was given a wooden music box, a charming gift the girl thought. Only, she hadn’t expected what was to come when accepting the gift.

Going through the motions of dusting her house, she dusts the console table where she displays the music box along with various other knick knacks she has collected. Moving further into her house, she suddenly hears the music box begin to play. Thinking that she might have accidentally opened it while dusting, she thinks no further of the incident and continues finishing up with her chore.

Busy in the kitchen preparing her dinner, she once again hears the music box’s slow song. She can’t seem to remember walking over into the hallway to wind it up but truthfully she’s been so busy today that everything has been a blur so she just lets the song continue playing as she continues on with her cooking.

Inviting friends over and hosting has been one of her favourite things to do and tonight was no different. Through the chatter someone asks what that sound was and she quickly identifies it as her music box playing. She found it odd how no one fessed up as to who was the one who opened it, but it was harmless so no bad blood there.

A restless night where she was barely asleep, she is suddenly woken up to hear her music box playing. This time, she can’t think of a single reason why it would begin playing. There was no one else in her home, she’s been tucked in bed trying to fall asleep for the past couple of hours, and she knew for fact that she never opened it. Tossing her blanket off, she goes over to the console table to find the music box wide open. Quickly snapping it shut, she begins to turn around when the music begins again and as she turns, the box is open.
Perhaps it was a trick of her tired mind, she thinks in the morning. Surely she must have been dreaming, truly asleep and simply scared herself thinking it was happening in the real world. Though she now keeps a couple of books stacked on top of the music box.

A couple hectic days passes and she pays the music box no mind, but as she’s making dinner again, she hears it. The music box is playing again. She leaves the kitchen and she heads to the hallway where she sees the once brown music box has now turned black. The music is louder than it has ever been and the books, the books are still on top of the music box.

For the next few days, she has tried every possible way of getting rid of the box. Tossing it in the bin, leaving it outside for someone to take, going the extreme route of trying to destroy the box, yet every time she would find the box sitting neatly on her console table. Feeling like she was going to be stuck with it forever, she took the box with her as she went on a walk trying to think of what else she could do. As she was passing another person on her walk, she decided to give it to them, thinking what harm could it do since it’ll only return back to her anyways.

As she enters her home, the relief that washes over her as she sees her console tables, empty of a music box. But also the dread of knowing what she gave to the poor unsuspecting person.

 

[Mokuren]

I am super bad at writing something pleasing in english. I tried my best!

Spoiler

The Cursed Bell

It was a rainy day on Aurea. Bunnie was sitting in her favorite chair, looking outside the window, wondering when the rain would finally stop. She wanted to go outside, care for her vegetable garden, and go for a walk in the woods, but instead, she was trapped inside. "I wish I could go outside," she said with a deep sigh. Bunnie’s ears twitched when she heard a ringing bell, wondering what this was—not yet realizing that the sun was all of a sudden out.

A similar thing happened to Willow. She was taking a walk in the rain. She enjoyed the rainy afternoon all by herself. She walked past Nook’s Cranny and looked at the new furniture and decorations they had for Halloween. Her next stop was the Able Sisters. She immediately fell in love with a rainbow umbrella, which was quite expensive and unaffordable for her. She let out a deep sigh. "Oh, how I wish to own this umbrella." In the distance, she heard the sound of a bell, wondering what this was—not yet realizing the umbrella in her hands had changed.

If this was not enough, there was also Teddy. He was a bit cranky that he couldn't jog outside, but it didn't stop him from his indoor training. He was lifting weights and just wanted to push beyond his limits. Working out was everything for him and defined his whole character. He was training for the Jock Villager Olympics. There was nothing that could stop him—at least, almost nothing. His throat had hurt for a while now, and when he started to have a runny nose and a cough, he felt uneasy. To be sick was the only time he couldn't train. "I wish I could be healthy!" The sound of a ringing bell was to be heard—wondering what this was—not yet realizing that he wasn’t sick anymore.

All these stories have something in common: a bell.

Kiki was sitting in a cave. Her paws held a round object in her hands. Her eyes were empty, and her body looked like it was moved by someone else. The bell glimmered with an eerie light. It had a strange power and was able to fulfill the wishes of others in unexpected ways.

Kiki found the bell on a walk in the woods and was drawn to its sound like a moth to a flame. Soon she realized that the bell was cursed. It drained Kiki's energy and fed off the desires of her friends. Suddenly, the bell began to ring. Kiki could sense the wishes of her friends. She knew now was the right time to break the curse. She focused on the wishes: Bunnie’s need for sunlight, Willow’s wish for beauty, and Teddy’s longing for health. The bell cracked and filled the room with warm light, and all wishes were fulfilled in a satisfying way.

Kiki, watching from the cave, felt the bell grow warm in her hands. The curse was lifting. She smiled, knowing that the wishes of her friends had broken the spell. The bell’s power had transformed from a curse into a blessing.

 

[Coach]

Spoiler: The Statue

Cube had always heard rumours about that ship before. Tucked away at the back of his holiday vacation island, but only once a week at the most. Talk of the town was that you needed a referral to get in, but luckily he knew a few connections to put in a good word with... Who was it, again? A dog, right? A fox, maybe? Anyway, yeah, he knew where to go and what to say. Every day he wandered cautiously behind the islands exterior cliff face, clutching a ladder in case he would be able to spot this infamous boat.

Finally, on Halloween morning, Cube repeated this same routine and spotted a spluttering of smoke in the distance. He watched as a rustbucket of a ship approached the rocky beach, and let down a boardwalk of sorts. Cautiously, he was greeted by a sly fellow and invited inside. There were some cool items on display, groovy colourings that he'd never seen before! A beautiful painting... Cubes eyes darted between sights until they landed upon a fairly small metallic statue, with antenna.

"Ah, Cousin, you have a good eye!" The Fox remarked. "Now, normally I would put an item on reserve for delivery the following day. You know, for... Convenience reasons. But this one is very different. I'd really like to get it off my hands, uh, due to the weight of it of course. I'm happy to give it to you for half price, if you're so interested, just so long as you take it onto shore today."

Wow, what a steal! Cube thought to himself. He shook hands with the fox, noticing that they were particularly sweaty. In fact, the fox was drenched with beads of sweat. Cube wasn't lingering on that thought for long, however, as he took the statue and happily strolled back to shore, clambered up the ladder to the cliffs and then headed home. On the walk, Cube noticed a glint in a tree. Money trees weren't unheard of, so he thought for a moment and then decided to give it a shake. What was the worst that could happen?



BEES! Bees was the worst that could happen. A nest oozing with glistening honey tumbled to the ground and shattered at Cube's flippers. He had never run so fast, and luckily his front door was unlocked so he could fling it open and run inside unscathed. Phew! He caught his breathe, then looked at and admired his new statue. Listening closely, he could almost hear a vibrational noise coming from it. Surely not?

*ZAP! BANG!* The CD player suddenly began sizzling wildly, and playing in reverse. The lovely calming K.K. Bossa had never sounded more unsettling and terrifying. After about 30 seconds, the power went out and Cube was surrounded by a stark silence, apart from that same vibrating sound he heard the statue emitting previously. It was definitely there, a low rumble. Eerie. Cube had a terrifying thought that there was a reason that Redd had been so eager to get rid of the statue in the first place. He thought harder, and harder. As he did, his back turned from the statue, it began to levitate. A cyan glow came shooting out of the eyes and antenna which Cube caught in a reflection in his peripheral vision. He froze.

Honestly, he's not sure how long he stayed still for. All he knew was that the power was off, and yet this creepy statue was glowing behind him and making a horrible humming noise, which now drilled into his ears. *DING DONG!* The cyan light vanished as the doorbell went.

The shrill cry of "TRICK OR TREAT!" could just about be heard from behind the closed door. Was it really nighttime already? It was only morning when Cube had got home! How long had he been avoiding looking at the statue...?

Cube flung open the door to an eager mouse holding a pail of sweets. "TRICK OR TREAT!" they repeated again, beaming ear to ear. Cube felt wracked with guilt about the thought he'd just had, but it was a quick solution to such an unexplainable problem.

"Jeez, thanks Mister! I've had candy before, but not a cool decoration!" The little mouse shrieked in excitement.
The statue was out of his hands, now. It had only begun to cause chaos, and that was enough. Cube just hoped it wasn't that bad as he watched the trick or treater walk along the dirt path. All of the sudden, they got their shoe caught in a pitfall and fell forward. Their candy flung across the floor and they looked so gutted. Cube closed the door and his power flickered back on.

 

[Milleram]

Dolly​

Ozzie’s day started like any other. He had left his house intent on searching the island for fruit to eat. After wandering the island for about an hour, his tummy was full, and he began to feel tired.

‘I think I’ll take a quick nap on the beach,’ he thought, ‘Maybe I can find a coconut tree to rest under.’

As he approached the beach, he saw a very strange sight. A suspicious-looking boat was docked on the shore. Forgetting his fatigue, he decided to approach the strange boat.

When he got close to the boat, a figure emerged. It was a very shady-looking fox.

“Hello, cousin! Would you care to have a look at my wares? I have a whole bunch of rare stuff for sale.”

Intrigued, Ozzie nodded and followed to fox onto the boat.

Aboard the boat, there were many strange items. Antique paintings, exotic statues… Ozzie hardly knew where to look. At some point, though, one particular item caught his eye.

It was a dolly. She was wearing a red dress and hood, with striped stockings. She had a sweet face. When Ozzie gazed at the dolly, he felt as though she wanted him to play with her forever. Ozzie felt that he must take the dolly home.

“This dolly will make a nice addition to my place,” he thought, “I wonder what the bugs will think of her?”

He gave the eager fox some bells as payment, and left the boat.

Excited to play with the dolly when he got home, Ozzie skipped down the road. About halfway to his home, he stumbled upon a mysterious-looking tent.

‘Gosh, I sure am running into a lot of strange things today,’ Ozzie thought to himself. He decided to enter the tent anyway.

Inside the tent, a fortune teller was seated at a table. “I was expecting you,” she said to Ozzie.

Ozzie drew closer to her table, and she pointed to the doll in his hand. “That item you hold,” she said in a dramatic voice, “Do you know the power it possesses?”

“Power?” Ozzie repeated. “I just thought she would be fun to play with.”

“That dolly is no mere plaything,” the fortune teller continued, “She is cursed. As long as you possess her, you will remain as you are… forever. You will never grow or age… just like her.”

Ozzie considered the fortune teller’s words. Never grow or age? That didn’t sound too good. Ozzie wanted to grow up. He wanted to be an adult so that he could eat all the snacks he wanted, and no one would be able to stop him. He wanted to be able to decide his own bedtime. He knew that he needed to discard the dolly.

“What should I do with her?” he asked the fortune teller.

“You must return her to whence you found her,” the fortune teller said, once again speaking dramatically.

Ozzie knew what he had to do.

He returned to the beach, cradling the dolly in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the dolly, “I wanted to be your friend, but I can’t stay with you forever. I want to grow up. I have things I want to do as an adult.”

He tossed the dolly into the ocean, then turned and started heading home.

A single tear rolled down the dolly’s cheek, and then the waves swallowed her.

 

[-Lumi-]

Entering for some last minute points!! Please forgive my mess of a story and the terrible cliff hanger. The word limit came for me and my inability to condense my thoughts.

Spoiler: Tales of Terror

When Katie caught her younger brother, Max, slinking into the house she knew he was hiding something. He was only eight years old and it was Halloween; he should have been running inside excited to start the nights festivities. She watched him curiously as he snuck upstairs without so much as taking his boots off. She mulled over what to do for a few minutes in her head. Neither of their moms would be home for another hour at best and Katie didn’t want to risk leaving Max unsupervised for that long with the mystery he was hiding.

Oh God, she thought, what if he’s hiding a squirrel or a bird or something up there? It wouldn’t be the first time Max tried to rescue an injured animal or attempted to domesticate one. They had to call animal control when he was six and the mouse he simply had to rescue got stuck in their walls. “It was starting to get cold!”, she remembers Max saying, “he’s too little to stay out in all the snow.” The memory made her smile, mixed with her mama’s frantic squealing and flinching anytime she thought she heard a scratch or squeak in the walls… thankfully her mom kept her cool about the situation better. She had explained to Max that outdoor animals have evolved to live outdoors and the mouse would be fine and for the most part that helped. Although an injured animal or one that really wanted to be his friend sometimes still made their way into their home.

Katie groaned, deciding to go and check on her brother. She quietly climbed up the stairs, listening for any animal sounds or hushing coming from her brother. Thankfully she couldn’t hear anything of the sort. Her heart started to calm down thinking she had at least avoided a catastrophe of the living kind.

“Max? Everything okay?” Katie asked, knocking on his door, “You ran upstairs without saying hi.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s fine! Everything’s okay you can go back downstairs,” he quickly called back. She could hear him shuffling around his room behind the door.

“Are you sure? Can I come in?” She placed her hand on the doorknob and started to push it open when it suddenly slammed back in her face.

“No! I’m… I’m getting my costume on!” Max said.

“But we haven’t had supper yet. You know moms wouldn’t want you to eat in your costume incase you spill anything on it. C’mon Max, open the door.” Katie said, starting to worry now. She pushed the door again and thankfully she was able to overpower her little brother. She knew it was only a matter of time before Max would get bigger and be stronger than her.

“Katie! Stop it!” Max yelled, crashing back on to the floor, “You’re so stupid! This is my room!”

“Whoa, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you over, you’re just acting strange and I wanted to see if you were okay. Did something happen at school?” Katie asked, stepping into the room and offering Max her hand.

She pulled him up and he brushed his pants off dramatically, giving a big sigh. “Promise you won’t tell moms?”

Oh brother, she thought. Here we go, “Sure… I promise,” she said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

His eyes lit up and he ran over to his back, “Okay so Tommy found this cool thing in his backyard when him and Benny were digging for treasure!” he carefully walked back over to Katie, holding a small chest in his hands. It looked like the type you’d find in the dollar store.

“Oh really? And they just gave it to you, huh?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.

Max’s cheeks flushed and his brows furrowed, “um, yeah. Tommy said they found lots and this one was for me,”

Sure he did. Katie thought. Whatever, it’s probably something Tommy’s mom hid in the backyard. Aside from having to deal with a case of petty theft Katie was feeling a lot more relaxed about the situation. Max opened the box and revealed a pocket watch.

“Whoa,” Katie murmured, reaching out to pick it up. It was really cool. She turned it over in her hands, the cool metal felt pleasant against her palm. There was an engraving of a lizard or something on the back.

“And look,” Max said, reaching out to push down on the button at the top of the watch. It popped open and inside you could see all the gears turning. Or well, what should have been turning gears.

“It’s busted,” Katie said, gesturing to the stalled gears.

“It’s still cool! I want to wear it with my costume tonight.” Max sounded defensive as he snatched the clock back from her.

“Your… Spiderman costume?” she asked skeptically.

Max huffed, “No! I’m going as a detective now. This is the perfect addition.”

Katie pinched her nose, letting out a sigh in the same way she had saw her mom do a hundred times. Max loved Halloween, almost to a fault. He would have a different costume idea every day leading up to the 31st. She had no idea how her moms kept track of what he was actually going to be. “Okay, whatever, Detective Max. I’m going to put the pizza in now but don’t get dressed until after we eat, okay?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since Halloween and Max was acting strange. Katie’s moms didn’t seem to notice, or if they did, decided it was too serious of an issue to discuss with Katie yet. Which was fair given that her current line of thinking was that the watch was to blame for what was going on.

It started on Halloween, or at least that was Katie’s theory. She was willing to chalk up his behaviour that night to Halloween fun but now it was getting weird. He was demanding that everyone refer to him as Sir Fogsworth the 3rd, although he was willing to compromise at just Sir Fogsworth. The family all initially believed that that was simply his detective pseudonym but it kept up even after the costume came off. As did the watch.

“Why are you even wearing that thing anyways? It doesn’t work,” Katie said, rolling her eyes as Max spun the watch around on the chain.

“It works just fine, Kaitlyn. It tells me exactly what I want to know,” Max said, putting on a bad English accent.

“Stop calling me that. My name is Katie, and you know it.” She said, gritting her teeth. Amongst Max’s new characteristics this was by far the most annoying. The day after Halloween he had scoffed that Katie was a childish name for a lady to have and he would be addressing her by her full name, Kaitlyn. She tried to get her moms to make him stop but he wouldn’t listen. Her full name was Katie, not Kaitlyn.

Max simply smiled, if you could call it that. Something was definitely off. His previously warm childlike smile had shifted into something slimy and cold. It felt like his eyes had changed too, they were no longer full of wonder. It was almost as if he had aged overnight, although he still remained the same size. He placed the watch gently into his pocket and wandered off, out of Katie’s sight.

She had hoped that when he wore the watch to school the following day Tommy and Benny would ask for it back. He returned home with it, though, and with each passing day his personality shifted more and more. He would even sleep with the thing in his bed, it was ridiculous.

“Mama, don’t you think it’s a little odd?” Katie asked, hoping to appeal to her more worry-wart parent.

She simply shrugged, “not particularly. Don’t you remember last year when he insisted he was Clark Kent? Mom had to poke the lens’ out of those child-size sunglasses for him to wear around the house non-stop,” she laughed, getting lost in the memory. Katie did remember, but that wasn’t as dramatic of a change. He was still Max, just Max pretending to be a superhero.

“C’mon. He never lets go of that watch - has he even let you or mom try to fix it? I caught him sneaking downstairs last night, in his pajamas and he was still holding onto it.”

Her mama raised an eyebrow, “and what were you doing downstairs when you caught him, huh?”

Katie groaned, “that’s not the point! He’s acting strange and I know you know it too.”

She reached out and squeezed Katie’s hand, “he’s just having fun. Maybe they’re reading a story set in England or something at school. You can’t tell me his accent doesn’t sound identical to the one that Mr. McCarthy puts on when he’s ‘in character,’” she said, trying to get a smile out of Katie. Mr. McCarthy had been Katie’s teacher when she was little too, and she loved all the silly voices and accents he would put on when reading to them.

Katie sighed. She supposed what her mama said could make sense, but there was still something eating away at her. She was certain that something was wrong with Max. It was either that or they needed to enroll him in a drama class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“C’mon Max!” Katie called upstairs, “it’s the first snow of the season. We have to go outside!” It was a silly tradition but one they had done forever. Whenever it would really snow for the first time they would go outside and build a snowman. Even if all they could muster up was a tiny one, they wanted to be the first family on the block with one in their yard.

She could hear Max groan as he came down the stairs, “Really Kaitlyn, how long will it take for you to get my name right? It’s Sir Fogsworth and I have no interest in playing outside in the snow. The cold makes my bones ache.”

Katie clenched her fists. Her parents had gone away for the weekend, leaving her in charge. She was waiting for something suspicious to happen so she could act.

“Your name is Max, and you’re eight years old. The cold weather has no affect on your bones!” She knew she sounded like a child but she was so frustrated with whatever was going on.
He paused, considering what she said, “you’re right, I am only eight years old. It’s so hard to stop thinking about the past and my previous limitations.”

Katie felt her stomach drop, “your past?”

Max smiled, although it was really more of a snarl. “Come now, we are alone. No need to keep up the charade. I know that you’re aware something is going on here, you just can’t quite piece it together, right?”

Katie could only nod, her eyes frozen on his. Max used to have warm blue eyes, bordering on green. The past few weeks they were turning a paler blue, she was certain of it.

“Max, was it?” He asked, tilting his head as he pulled out the pocket watch, “he found this. His friends told him he shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to him but he just had to have it. I know he told you that rubbish story about his friends finding it and giving it to him but you could tell he was lying. You’re such a clever girl. No, his friends wandered into a house, my house, and rifled through my things! I haven’t used them in a while, given the circumstances, but they are still mine,” he grumbled, getting distracted by the memory.

“Regardless, he took this from me. Put his grimy little hands all over my house and then stole from me. So I felt it was only fair to steal from him.”

Katie covered her mouth, the realization hitting her, “you stole him, didn’t you? You stole Max’s life.”

 

[Emolga59]

Spoiler: The tales of the cafe

It was a cold night in the lonely town of starfall. Pecan sat alone in Brewster's Cafe as she waited for Brewster to arrive. It was unusual for Brewster to not be eagerly waiting for a customer to walk in to his newly built cafe. Pecan felt an eerie breeze brush upon her shoulders as she continued to wait.

1 minute turned to 5 minutes... 5 minutes turned to 10 minutes... 10 turned into 20 minutes.

Pecan just wanted to go home to happily sip her coffee after a long day of handing out candy to trick-or-treaters.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. However, she couldn't see anyone approaching the cafe's counter. Confused, she stood up and began looking around. As she leaned over the counter she was startled to find a gyroid. The gyroids at Brewster's cafe could never move off the shelfs as they never had legs, however somehow this one most likely managed to jump off their shelf and make their way to the counter.

Pecan asked nervously: "Is... Is Brewster here today?"

"He'll be gone for a while, hopefully your not expecting anything from him. What can I get for ya today?"

"I'll have an iced americano."

Pecan took one more look at the gyroid. His blank stare was ominous, almost as if it was a sign for her to run while she still could. She decides to retract her request.

"Actually, I'm fine Mr. Gyroid. Thank you for offering your services to me though."

Although the gyroid's face couldn't move, Pecan felt as if it wasn't happy with her decision. She realizes that she may have just made a big mistake. She felt a sinking feeling as she awaited for the gyroid's response.

"Oh... That's.... Okay..." The gyroid's voice began to malfunction as if it was a machine of sorts. She could feel the gyroid's anger she looked straight into its hollow eyes.

Like any sane person would, she turned around, burst through the glass doors and began to book it down the street. She ran like no other villager had before; panting, crying and praying were the only things she could do as her legs helplessly jumped across the grass patches. She looked behind and realized that nothing was after her. She then stopped behind the nearest tree to catch her breath before the sprint continued.

Although she wasn't ready, she decided that it was time to complete the final, grueling stretch to make it to the safety that was her house. She took a couple steps forward and looked back in the direction of the cafe one more time.

There was the gyroid. Legs popped out of what once was it's chubby stem. Pecan, horrified and in a state of utter shock, began to make a run for it once again.

Thankfully, it was evident that the mutilated gyroid had little to no experience in chasing others. For every stride it took there was a stumble of struggle. She managed to make it to her house and as she fumbled her keys around while unlocking the door, the long-legged gyroid came closer and closer. By the inch of a tail, she made it in the house. She immediately crashed onto her couch, but she still felt endangered.

All of a sudden, she heard her window shatter. The arms of the gyroid reached out and grabbed Pecan by the neck. No one in the town ever knew what became of Pecan. To this day, her window frame has never received replacement glass in case she were to return one day.

 

[Holla]

Spoiler: Blessing Turned Curse

Corey was just an ordinary Island Representative who lived on Bluebell Island. He took pride in the little island he helped build. Starting from basically nothing he helped build a wonderful haven for all his animal friends. Not to mention the island was beautifully decorated from shore to shore. What a perfect little life… Or so he thought.

On one rather ordinary day, a suspicious fellow by the name of Redd set up shop on the secret beach at the northern end of the island. This was nothing new as he would typically show up once a week or so. This time however was different. Upon his usual wares of real and fake artwork he had an antique shovel. Rather unassuming at first with its ornate patterns but a cruel curse yet to be known was hidden within.

Upon walking into Redd’s shop, the antique shovel caught Corey’s eye so naturally he inquired Redd about it. “Ah, keen eye ya have there cousin. This here’s something truly rare, it’s an antique shovel that’s supposed to grant the user something wonderful. No tellin’ exactly what that may be, but it can be yours for a low low price of 10,000 bells.”
Of course Corey couldn’t pass up on such a rare item so he bought the rather unassuming but apparently blessed shovel.

Corey ended up stashing the shovel inside his house for a few days as he had other errands to tend to at the time. Eventually though, curiosity got the better of him and he just had to see what exactly this antique shovel could do. So, he took the shovel outside and dug hole in front of his house. Immediately after digging a hole a fresh turnip popped out. “Huh, how odd” thought Corey aloud. He then preceded to dig a second hole. Sure enough a second turnip popped out. Followed by a third and so on. Every hole dug with the antique shovel yielded yet another turnip. Corey was never one to indulge in the stalk market but this was just too good to pass up on. Maybe he’d finally be free of his debt to Tom Nook.

Encouraged by his greed, Corey dug up every free space in town to acquire as many turnips as possible. But even that wasn’t enough, Corey then began to tear down every single decoration, tree, shrub and flower on the entire island to acquire more precious turnips. By the end of the day, the island was a complete mess. Holes everywhere and nothing left to admire. In fact, villagers couldn’t even leave their homes unless they wanted to risk falling into one of the endless holes.

As a few days passed, Corey endlessly kept checking the turnip prices in hopes of cashing in big. Finally on the fourth day it appeared that prices would have a massive spike the following morning. However, upon opening his door on the fifth day tragedy struck, every single turnip had gone rotten. Corey couldn’t understand why, the turnips should have been fine until Sunday after all that is the day he initially dug them up and they always last the entire week. Corey begrudgingly walked to Nook’s Cranny to check turnip prices anyways. He was hopeful that the prices had actually majorly declined instead of spiked as he had predicted. Sadly his initial prediction was correct prices had gone wild. A whopping 999 bells per turnip!

Devastated, Corey ran (while dodging an endless number of holes) back to his house to wallow in his lost fortune. A few hours later he decided to check the mail, as letters from the villagers always cheered him up. The villagers however, were extremely angry with the current state of Bluebell Island. Every letter sent to Corey stated how unhappy they were that the Island was a complete mess with all the holes and rotten turnips everywhere. At this, Corey decided to take a closer look at his shovel. Upon closer inspection, he could see a very tiny scrawl on the handle. It read: Be warned the user of this shovel will at first appear blessed, but once it’s time to rake in their fortune their blessing will instantly become cursed and everyone that they are close to will despise them until the time of time. However, the curse can be lifted if the user atones for their sins.

Atone for my sins? There must be something I can do, thought Corey. After some further thinking, he grabbed the cursed shovel and headed out of his house. Slowly but surely he disposed of each rotten turnip one by one. He also filled in all the holes as he went despite sometimes falling into them. He also replanted all the trees, shrubs and flowers he had torn out, as well as setup all the decorations he had torn down. He also apologized to each villager for the mess and inconvenience he had caused. Finally after several long gruelling weeks the island was nearly back to its former glory, just one last hole left to fill in. Upon filling it in Corey felt a heavy burden lift off his shoulders. At the same time, the troublesome shovel snapped and vanished before his eyes. No one knows where it could have gone, but one thing’s for sure, Corey learned a few key lessons.

Never trust sketchy salesmen especially if their name is Redd, and most importantly, don’t let greed take hold and ruin your friendships. From that day on Corey was free from the curse and turnips would only spoil on him after proper passage of time or time travelling, but that’s another matter.

The end.

 

[Giddy]

FINALLY, I was like over 2000 words and had to shortned it the best I could.

Spoiler: The cursed hairband

When Isabelle and her younger brother were just young pups, Halloween was the pinnacle of the year, and always a night to remember.
Decorating the living room and the yard with spooky bats, fake dog skeletons and pumpkins. Spiderwebs hung from the windows, and plastic graves were lined up along the yard - away from their father’s cabbage patches of course - their parents liked to make an effort for the other animals in the neighbourhood.

Isabelle and Digby always wore different outfits from each other, no matter how many times their parents wanted matching mummies or ghosts, just because they were twins; it didn’t mean they couldn’t show off their individuality.
One time Digby dressed as Frankenstein’s monster, while Isabelle dressed as a Snoopy ghost, the next year a mummy and Jack himself. The closest match the parents got was when Isabelle wore a Pikachu outfit, and Digby wore a Rockruff costume.

And then the pumpkin carvings!
What a load of messy, creative fun! With help from their parents, digging out the pumpkin mush and seeds, and then carving twisted faces, sharp fangs, droopy eyes that glowed a near perfect orange once the candles were lit.

When it came to Trick-o-Treating, one parent always went with the kids, while the other stayed at home awaiting any trick-o-treaters or Jack searching for candy. And one year Isabelle and Digby - oh my dog - were able to go Trick-o-Treating by themselves!!
As exciting as it was to be in charge, Isabelle realised how hard it was to stay in control when she accidentally took someone else’s paw and lost Digby for about ten minutes. With tears in her eyes she searched through the sea of a hundred other costumed animals looking for her brother and finding him at their old treehouse, a place they both went when lost mentally, or physically.
They promised never to tell their parents what happened that night, and held hands as the night starry sky lit their way.
(Digby was the one to tell the story years later at a regathering after they retired from looking after the Town of Plasma. Isabelle, still wheeling from that night, was worried what her parents' reactions were, but they’d laughed it off playfully, “It was bound to happen one Halloween.” Her father said.)

And their parents always made a special dish of Hotdogs each Halloween night. Their father always made a little joke, here and there, about where the sausages came from. As he placed down the plates, ‘Your hotdog, monster, made out of your uncle’s arm. And you dear ghost, made from your cousin’s kidney stone!’
It was only until their mother got involved with the round of jokes did it become more sinister. She sat back in her chair, staring blank-point at them before stating that the hotdogs were made from their triplet.

Digby chuckled, seeing the joke from a mile away. ‘But mama, we’re twins!’

’Hm..that’s not what the doctor told me.’ She smiled as the silence grew. ‘Eat up now!’

Safe to say, they didn’t eat a lot that night. And as silly as the jokes were, their parents made a point not to connect their jokes towards dinner time.

----

It was nearing Halloween when Isabelle and Digby were digging in the yard, shuffling dirt with their paws, picturing the pumpkin seeds stuffed in their sewed pockets were to become as big as them the next time Halloween rolled around.
They dug a little deeper until Isabelle flinched from touching a solid object. Digby stopped as well after seeing Isabelle’s face - ‘What’s wrong Bell?”

Isabelle reluctantly pulled the item out of the ground. In her paw lay a pitch black hairband with a small ash coloured bat with red eyes.

“Buried treasure!!” Digby exclaimed, as Isabelle excitedly wagged her tail at her find.

She held it up to the autumn light. “I can wear this with my costume!”

“What are you going to be this year, Bell?” He asked as he covered his seeds with the dirt.

“A witch!” She declared triumphantly. Isabelle removed her hairband to wear her new bat one, and as she tied it around her curls; the wind picked up, the leaves shivered and the breeze settled around her.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Digby’s voice broke Isabelle’s attention. She shook her head. “I said I’m going to go as Doctor Strange!”

“...that’s not very scary.”

Digby flicked some dirt towards Isabelle’s direction. “Papa said I could be anything I want!” He placed his paws onto his side. “Superhero!!”

They started to scuffle over what was a good costume or what wasn’t, causing a play fight in the grass and fallen leaves before their father called them inside.

And as Isabelle ran up the porch she slipped on the step and grazed her knee before entering the house. Not realising that this won’t be the only bad luck she got that week.

----

It started small.

Isabelle would trip over her feet, stairs and the occionsal rock. Slipping on frosty morning grass, or not waking up in time for school. Her hair would get caught in anything from door handles, or Halloween decorations, and no matter how she kept her hair healthy, she found her hair in knots and an itchy head.

Isabelle was never clumsy. Yet she was now dropping things which caused a lot of uncertainty at school; where she dropped the insect cage. The classroom was in chaos as several types of insects jumped free. One student was crying in the corner; his soul trying to leave his body, while another was trying to eat the insects.

It only occurred to Isabelle what was happening when Digby stated, “You’re cursed!”

Isabelle wasn’t so sure that curses were real, but everything was beginning to take a toll on her. She pouted as she sat on the swing next to her brother.

Digby watched her sadly, before a sudden idea sprang to mind. He nudged her, “What about Katrina?”
Katrina's family lived in tents, but never stayed in the neighbourhood for very long. Isabelle just missed them as they drove off, falling into a puddle as she tripped.

Digby gave her a hug. “It’ll be alright Bell.”

Isabelle hugged him closer, mumbling “I don’t even know any more.” And just like that the swings snap and they both fall into the dirt.

----

“Nooooooooooooo” Wailed Isabelle as she looked down at her torn dress. Several rips in the sequined skirt and a torn shoulder strap that happened when she fell down the stairs - again.

Her mother wiped her tears. “It’s alright pet, what about wearing something else?” She turned to her husband. “Or maybe those young sisters down the road..the ones who make their own clothes - they could help fix it?”

Isabelle sniffed. “N-no..” She knew what those sisters were dealing with right now. “I-I can still wear this.”

Digby proudly comes into the room in his caped outfit. His face dropped when he saw his sister. He came over and held her paw.

“Come on, we’ll have fun and get soo much candy!!” Digby’s bright smile brought Isabelle out of her slums and returned a tired smile back.

----

It was their father who took them trick o’ treating that year, and tried as she might, Isabelle didn’t enjoy the night like she wanted to.
And for some odd reason, she was only ending up with candy corn and black licorice in her basket.

The night continued to get worse when she met with some mammals that critiqued her costume so awfully, she started to run away before tripping on a fake skeleton and fell in the dustbin. Digby watched in horror as the other trick o’ treaters laughed at his sister, her face crumbling before she stumbled away from the house they were visiting.

Their father called out to her, took Digby’s hand before following. But once she turned a corner, they had lost her. Their father started calling her name, and running up to other parents to ask them if they’ve seen Isabelle.
Digby rubbed the tears out of his eyes, before an idea sprang to mind. He was about to turn and run off before his father noticed and grabbed his arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

Digby pulled his arm. “Dad, wait! I know where Isabelle is!” He shouted, getting his dad’s attention.

----

Isabelle sat under their old treehouse with her knees curled up to her chin as she sat there whimpering and crying. The treehouse wasn’t exactly stable enough to go up anymore, and with this curse, it was sure to cause more accidents.

She heard a rustling in the grass that made her look up in fright, only to see her brother catching his breath.

“Go away, Digby.” She muttered. “I’m cursed, and I don’t want others to get hurt.”

Digby took a step towards her. “You haven’t hurt anyone!”

“I almost did…” She shuffled away from him. “I nearly got everyone sick from food poisoning.”

Digby blinked. She had been helping their mother with the food, before accidentally dropping sanitising liquid in the stewpot, ruining all the food.
Digby sat beside her. “But you didn’t. And instead we got to eat poptarts for dinner, which I think is way better than some old stew!”

Isabelle knew he was trying to help…but everything was just hurting so much. She dug her head deeper into her knees with a whine.

“If only we knew-” Digby said, before standing up angrily. “I mean it all started after…after…” Digby’s eyes glanced at the top of Isabelles fluff and the hairband.

He was about to reach for it, before Isabelle’s head jerked suddenly round to him with eyes as crimson red. “DoN’T tOuCH IT!” Her voice rang out deep and echoey.

Digby screamed before backing away from his sister. Watching as her body twist and jerk in all directions, a low guttering growl came from the back of her throat as she looked at him with those eyes.

“B-b-bell, what’s going on?!”

She roared before running straight at him. He started running around the garden, dodging his sister trying to take bites out of him, as he screamed each time it felt like she almost caught up to him.

His mind couldn’t think of what he could do. He wasn’t a superhero, he didn’t know how he could help. And just then his cape snagged on a tree branch, and pulled it off before Isabelle smacked into the tree. An idea formed into his mind.

Before she could pick herself up in time, Digby raced a few feet away, and brandished his cape in his hands. “Hey!” He shouted, and her body twisted quickly back up to look in his direction.
He charged at her, holding his cape before smacking into her with all the force he had to make her fall over; covering her with the cape as much as he could. She started flailing, growling as she tried to overcome the dreaded cape. Digby grabbed the hairband with his teeth, tearing it off her bun.

The fighting under the cape subsided. “Isabelle…?”

There was a minute while he held his breath, before Isabelle pulled the cape away from her face; and Digby’s smile grew the moment he saw his sister’s black eyes that were brimming tears of absolute happiness.

She grabbed him and squeezed him so tight. “OH DIGBY!”

They both sat there, crying as their tails wagged in utmost joy after such a horrendous ordeal.

“What should we do with it?” Eying it with disgust.

A small figure darted into the garden, knocking over trash bins as it went.

“A-ha!!” The figure exclaimed, picking up the torn hairband “That’s where I left it!”

The moon’s light broke free from the clouds, revealing the figure bearing a pumpkin head.
He stared longingly at the hairband for a moment, before opening his jaws and devouring the hairband in one bite.

 

[Irescien]

Spoiler: idk what this is

It is the eve of the 31st, all the villagers near and far are dressed in their spookiest costumes ready for Halloween, the spookiest event of the year.

Hugh, a huge Halloween fanatic, painstakingly decorated his house with all of the best spooky items, and worked on the perfect outfit for months that would be sure to strike fear into any of his unsuspecting neighbours.

“Boo!!” Screamed a familiar voice from behind him. Hugh squealed and turned around quickly to see a bright blue bird laughing hysterically. “Sorry, I’ll just never get tired of your scream” he laughed

“Pierce!!” Hugh grunted, trying his best to calm himself down. As much of a Halloween fan he is, he still doesn’t do well with frights.

“Halloweens the best time of the year, I just scared someone and they gave me candy out of fear,” the bird chuckled amusedly. “This is the best way to get the most candy!”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work” the pig sighed “How about we just go door to door the old-fashioned way”

Thus, the two blue haired villagers made their way towards their neighbours houses, making their way steadily along the road collecting an abundant amount of candy on the way. As the two continued past many houses they came upon a dark street of unlit houses, it had such an eerie atmosphere it sent chills down their spines. Hugh tried to move past it to get towards their familiar decorated houses, but Pierce quickly darted down the road like he had his eyes on something.

“Bro look at this!” He squawked, pulling up a tattered old doll, it was covered in mud and dirt and looked like it had been run over by a car.

“And why…would you want that?”

“This is like, the perfect spooky doll for Halloween right?” He beamed, holding the doll by its arms and making it wave “It’s kind of cute right?”

“No.” Hugh stated flatly “That thing should be left on the ground where you found it, now can we please get away from this scary street”

“Oh come on a streets not scary” Pierce huffed “I’m taking her with me, don’t worry she won’t hurt you”

Hugh sighed “Fine, but can we go? I feel like something is watching me…”

“Sure thing bud” Pierce said as he made the doll pat him on the back

“Please don’t touch me with that thing either…”

The two boys then continued on their way, the last few houses and adventures full of tricks and candy until they both were back home. They said their good nights to each other, and settled in to sleep the night rush away.

Hugh was nestled under the covers, in a deep sleep but slowly arose with an unsettling feeling in his stomach, through blurry eyes he saw a figure sitting in the corner of his room. He blinked his eyes a few times and saw the doll Pierce had picked up sitting in his room. He rubbed his eyes and the doll was gone. “What?” He mumbled as he stumbled out of bed. He shuffled over to where he saw it, he started moving things nearby, hastily looking around his room, but could not find any evidence of it being there. Confused and exhausted he dragged himself back to bed and passed out immediately.

In the morning Hugh rushed over to Pierce’s house, a bad feeling ringing in his heart. He banged on his door a few times until he saw his friend's face.

“Woah what’s got you so worked up this morning bro, you’re usually not up this early?” Pierce asked puzzled

Hugh, through jagged breaths, managed to get out “Where’s that doll from last night?”

The bird was even more confused but complied, showing his friend a box of Halloween decorations with the doll just sitting inside. The pig moved around things in the box a little, then stepped away and just stared at it.

“All good man?”

“I think so”

“You wanna tell me what’s up?”

His friend unloaded about the strange things he saw in the night. Unsurprisingly, he comforted him by stating it must have been a half asleep hallucination, much to his dismay he nodded and agreed with the easy answer. Until they heard a knock at the door. Standing on the other side stood a little black squirrel.

“Heard you guys have a doll problem” Tasha stated instead of a greeting, as she proceeded to barge into pierces house “figures, since I saw you last night”

The boys looked at their friend bewildered.

“So you boys haven’t heard of the cursed doll huh, amateurs” she sneered, and plopped herself down on a chair making herself comfortable “It all starts back when the island was first being built. One of the original inhabitants of the island was a little girl, and when she moved in she had a favorite doll she brought with her everywhere. This girl was very attached to the doll, even so much that people believed she thought it was alive.”

The boys looked at each other warily, and hesitantly also took seats to listen to her story.

“Well one day the doll went missing, the girl went on a complete tirade, she was inconsolable, the entire town pitched in to try and look for it but to everyone's dismay It couldn't be found. So, a few years passed, the family eventually moved out, and when the town demolished their house to make some new changes to the island, low and behold the doll was found in the rubble. No one knows where it really was, but it was found, but sadly the family was too far gone, and the demolitionists threw out the dirty doll. And… well…” She looked around at the boy's anticipated faces. “ That night, the demolitionist who threw out the doll was said to have found it sitting in its room. He thought he was dreaming but in the morning it was still there! He threw it out again only for it to keep returning, almost like it had become as attached to him as it was to the little girl. Eventually, he found that the only way to get rid of it is for someone else to touch the doll… So lucky for you, you’re the next victim it seems”

“Why did it come to me if Pierce was the last one that touched it?” Hugh questioned

“I don’t know, you found it at the same time maybe its a shared custody thing” she shrugged

Pierce looked at his friends and then back at the box “I think it just sounds lonely, like it's missing the connection it had with the little girl. It’s okay, I’ll take care of it now”

Hugh and Tasha exchanged glances but ultimately shrugged at their friends choices

“Your funeral bud.” Tasha said.

 

[Rio_]

This is terrible but oh Well

Spoiler

The Well​

You've been walking through these woods for what feels like days. Every inch of your surroundings feels familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. You're wandering aimlessly, knowing that you've already strayed too far from your destination to ever find it. You're completely lost.

Or are you?

To your surprise, you've suddenly stumbled upon a clearing, at the center of which is a worn down well.

'Could this be it?' you ponder, "I thought it'd be more... enchanting."

Legend says that anyone who travels deep into the heart of the enchanted forest, and tosses a bell into the blessed Wishing Well, will be granted one wish by the kind spirits who watch over it. This looks more like a regular old well, and maybe it is, but you think it wouldn't hurt to try.

"Please, oh please, Great Spirits of The Well..." you hold a single coin to your chest and close your eyes, "Please grant me a Cyan Heart Wand!"

You toss your coin into the well and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

But nothing happens.

"Stupid well..." you grumble. You decide to peer inside, just in case the wand was at the bottom, but all you see is pitch black. You squint your eyes, trying to will yourself to see something. Out of nowhere, something pops out at you! You screech and jump back, closing your eyes tight.

You are too afraid to look.

'But what if it comes after me?!' You gather your courage, open your eyes, and take in the sight:

A single, spindly arm is now sticking out of the well. It is covered in a tattered, pinstripe fabric, and you can't tell where the arm ends and its hand begins. But in what you think is the palm of its hand lays...

"MY WAND!" You shriek with glee, all the fear now gone from your body.

You run over and snatch the wand, then do a happy little dance. But where are your manners? "Oh, right!" you turn toward the well, "Thank you so, so, SO much, Oh Great Spirit of the Well!"

The arm gives you a little wave and sinks slowly back into the void.

Prize in hand, you make your long journey back out of the woods.

---

Once back home, you can't stop playing with the wand. You're dancing around, K.K. Bubblegum on max volume, and twirling the wand in every direction, watching the beautiful trail of cyan it creates. But eventually, the exhaustion of your big journey catches up to you, and you decide to finally go to bed. You carefully place your new treasure on your nightstand and drift off to sleep.

---

You awaken to a wretched smell filling the air. Confused, you try to shake off your grogginess and find out what's happened. Your eyes zero in on your nightstand, and you discover something baffling.

"What the-"

The wood underneath your glow wand has rotted.

"Noooooooo!!! Not my mahogany!" you wail.

The smell seems to be coming from the decay, but it doesn't smell like decaying wood... it smells like something much worse.

"I don't understand..." you trail off, before being filled with a panic. "THE WAND!"

You quickly grab it and run to your kitchen sink, trying to scrub off any possible contamination. When done, you examine the wand for damage, but it's still in perfect condition. 'Thank goodness.'

You leave the wand on your counter, and go off to deal with the nightstand.

---

After dragging your putrid smelling furniture out onto your front lawn, you decide to make yourself some breakfast.

"That was weird..." you mumble to yourself while munching away at your toast. You look towards your prized possession, "at least my wand is okaaAAAAAAAAA-"

You almost choke on your food at the ghastly sight. No no no no no no no no NO!"

You run over to your counter, a feeling of dread enveloping you. Against the laws of science, the granite countertop underneath your wand has somehow begun rotting. A familiar smell begins to form.

---

'It can't be...' You don't want it to be true. But what else could be causing this? You glare at your once beloved wand with anger.

'That wasn't a wishing well- it was a cursed well! All Trick and no Treat. I need to get rid of this thing...' the thought of discarding something that looks so valuable makes you cringe, but you know it must be done. You walk outside to your garbage can and shove it deep inside.

While walking back to your front door, you start trying to calculate how much damage kitchen renovations are going to do to your wallet. But your train of thought is broken when you feel something hard underneath your foot. When you look down you see a heart-shaped nuisance and nearly have a heart attack.

---

A trip to the beach is usually a fun occasion, but this one was strictly business. Wand in hand, you stare off into the ocean for a moment, before chucking that corrupt collectible as far as you can.

'There's no coming back from that,' you smirk.

---

You're happily humming K.K. Bubblegum as you pull into your driveway. As you step out of your car, something causes you to lose your balance and you come crashing to the ground. You groan in pain, then look back towards your feet.

Cyan.

'I'm never going to be free'

The thought hits you like a ton of bricks. You start sobbing, not even bothering to get back up. But as tears fall, an idea suddenly pops into your head:

'Maybe I need to send it back to the well?'

As much as you hate the thought of diving back into that maze of a forest, it might be your only solution. You grab your coat and head off.

---

Even though you found the well by accident last time, this time it's as if something is guiding you, an invisible force pulling you in the right direction. You come across the clearing in no time, and are once again standing in front of that horrid well.

"I don't want it!" you shout out, not sure who you're yelling at, "Just take it back!"

You violently toss the wand inside the well and run off as fast as your feet can carry you.

---

When you arrive home, you inspect your house from top to bottom, every nook and cranny, for any sign of sickly cyan. After hours of searching, you're satisfied:

It's nowhere to be found.

You flop into your bed, and release a sigh of relief. 'It's over.' You smile to yourself and curl up under the covers.

A sudden knock at the door disrupts your tranquillity. 'What could anybody want at this hour?' you think to yourself, annoyed. Begrudgingly, you hop out of bed and head over to the door. As you swing it open, you mutter "Look I've had a really long day so-"

As you look up, a lanky, shadowy figure enters your field of vision.
It extends it's bony arm towards you, a soft cyan glow awaiting at its end.

 

[Bob Zombie]

The Question ​

The full moon hung low on the horizon.

Stars shimmering in the air at the end of another beautiful day on an island paradise of my and my son’s design.

A crystal blue wave gently washes over my toes as I struggle to come up with the answer to a difficult question.

The avatar of my son sitting next to me, expectantly waiting for me to respond.

“Why are you here?”

***

The previous few hours were typical Halloween fun on the island we share, filled with joyful moments of candy exchanges and placating Jack. My son and I visited all of our villagers, running from one end of the island to the other.

We do this every year, and our tradition has always been to finish our yearly island candy hunt by sitting on a swing bench we set up in the early days of creating our island. This island that we spent 7 months sculpting and designing to be the embodiment of fun.

This year I could tell that something was on my son’s mind. He starred out to sea, watching the moonlight playing across the azure waves in the moonlight.

“Dad, why do we only ever play this game on Halloween?”

I was surprised by the question, and the flood of emotion that came rushing from my heart. “Because it’s too painful to play any other time.”

“Why is that?”

I looked him straight in the eye. His brown hair, brown eyes. Same as my avatar, only younger. It was the same in real life too.

“Because, Son… you don’t exist.” I coughed as the pain began to close my throat. “You were taken from me… this is all I have of you now.”

He looked me in the eye. “If I don’t exist anymore, why are you here, in this game?”

I answered as honestly as I could, turning my eyes out to sea. “I’m here because I’m afraid… if I stop playing, and coming here every year, I won’t have anything to remember the times we played together. I should have made more time to take you camping, soccer practice, ice cream on Saturdays. I thought we would have many years of Saturdays.”

A tear slid down my cheek as I lowered my head towards the sand.

“This is all I have.”

****

Some say a curse is brought on by a witch’s spell, or an evil presence. I know that the worst, by far, is by a terrible event.

The loss of my son to a speeding car in the early evening of what should have been a joyful Halloween three years ago cursed me to hunt desperately for something to keep him near me. You may think memories and pictures are enough… but they are not. Working late may get you up a few rungs of a corporate ladder, but it doesn’t replace the time lost, the tangible memories and physical trinkets to connect you with those lost forever.

So I have my Switch, and my island. An island we made together. A machine and a set of bits and bytes that I have been cursed to keep in an endless loop, unable to go on for fear of forgetting. I have become adept at playing both of our characters for short periods of time using two sets of controllers. My son doesn’t really talk in the game… my daydreams fill in lost conversations with what I remember his voice sounded like.

Today's conversation surprised me with the dagger I threw at myself, unveiling the reason I come to this virtual island. And as I turn off the game to go to sleep in a cold, empty house, I know in my heart the truth.

My curse will have me for many years to come.