Pumpkin Head's Return

It was the night of the Hunter’s Moon. Everyone had prepared all day, anticipating the long evening. Teachers had admonished their students to head straight home and not stop anywhere. Adults had already stocked necessities for the night; instead, they headed home. Shopkeepers closed up shop. Emergency personnel didn’t go on patrol. The whole town shut down during this full moon, as it had done for many years before.

This started the year someone had forgotten to winterize their scarecrow, many said. They said that the first autumn hadn’t been too bad. They didn’t even notice it the first few autumns, since some drifters came through those years. But then it grew more powerful and hungry, poisoning the very land it was meant to protect, and began to take hold of townsfolk.

For the town, the nightmare first became known on a Halloween that coincided with a full moon. Children and parents all dressed up in costumes and went to parties or trick-or-treating. The holiday’s gaiety was contagious, with hyper kids stoked on sugar running around. At first, no one noticed a straggler missing here or there. The night was busy; parties raged well past midnight. Then the calls started coming into the police station.

Susie, age ten, hadn’t come back from trick-or-treating.

Joshua, age thirteen, went to a party and was supposed to be back by ten.

Leticia, age eleven, disappeared on the way home from her grandma’s house, where she’d help to give out candy.

Demarcus, age 30, with his infant son, just over a year old, didn’t answer his wife's call.

Alyson, age 18, never made it back to her dorm, and her roommate was worried.

Linden, age 19, his worried mother called in because he missed his check-in time, which was unlike him.

Their names are forever written on the memorial board, as a reminder for the town. For several years, more names were added – some years more, some years less. Then the police department imposed a curfew the entire township had to obey. For the entire month of October, the town lived in lockdown from five pm till five am. With windows and doors barred, fear laden the air.

As children, they are taught to be cautious during October. Teachers taught safety rules to follow all month long. On the playground, the kids sang a rhyme they’d made up.

Sunset

Better get

Mother’s calling

No more lolling

Leaves start to change

A month full of strange

Lock your houses tight

He comes at night

Your soul to steal

All he wants is to feel

His stuffing is way too old

He’s all so very cold

He prepares for the snow

By coming for me and you

Sleep with a light

Hold your teddy tight

Stay in your bed 

Or you’ll wind up dead

Pumpkin Head

Pumpkin Head

Now, October has come around again, and with it, the Hunter’s Moon. Pumpkin Head hadn’t appeared since last year. Not long enough for this wounded town to heal; their scabs still showed.

They prepared for the night; the town was beginning to hole up in their homes. Doors and windows barred, families settled in for the night. Churches were taking in the homeless for the night. They’d learned long ago to close the road into town to night traffic. Even the welcome packets for new residents contain information on surviving the dark October nights.

Which brings us to the heart of this story: the Thompsons and their experience.

The Thompsons were new to the town. Just moved in late September from the big city of Los Angeles. A modern family, none of them bought into any of the town’s superstitions. In fact, the father, Kent, laughed as he threw the pamphlet away, explaining what to expect in October; then he looked at his family and commented on the ‘backwards hicks’ as he pulled out the free pizza coupon book.

When the Thompsons’ three children heard about O’ Pumpkin Head from their peers, they sneered at the tales, calling them old campfire stories. They ignored their teachers’ warnings to go straight home when September ended. They guffawed during church when the curfew was brought up. The children flippantly planned on ignoring the curfew; after all, who would be out to enforce it?

So, during the first ten days of October, the children explored the town when school was out, doing as they pleased. Their mother and father worked during the day, then ran their errands before going home to do the chores. None of them heeded their neighbors’ warnings. Each of them was so far lucky. Then the eleventh of the month came, and with the night, their luck ran out. 

The eleventh was a beautiful Saturday morning. The day dawned cool and crisp – with a promise of sunshine. The Thompsons all woke up ready for the day ahead, and each had plans. They quickly ate breakfast and dressed to head out the door.

Kent wanted to run to Home Depot and grab some supplies for a project he was working on in the garage. His wife, Helen, asked him to take her to the town’s Piggly Wiggly to do a little shopping for the evening's dinner of beef tips over rice with asparagus. They both planned on staying close to home.

As for the children, they had plans that would keep them away from the house all day. First, they planned to go to the lake and skip stones and hike in the woods looking for rocks. Rich, the eldest, had a backpack full of spray paint since he liked to tag things with his signature. Bethany, never to be called Beth, always took care of her siblings, so she packed a lunch with plenty of snacks and drinks for the day. As usual, little Kent only brought a ball and glove; he was used to his sister always watching out for him.

So, the Thompsons took off and began their day. To say their day was uneventful would be a lie, since they were busy doing their own things. They encountered townsfolk, only stopping long enough to talk to those who stopped them. The children even saw a dog or three, and they ran from an aggressive one over on Pine St.

Dinner came and went, and the children hadn’t shown up. Kent and Helen weren’t worried, though. After all, while in Los Angeles, their children had been known to stay out well past nine most nights. So, the parents just sat down to watch their favorite television show.

Sometime after eleven, Bethany came barging into the house. Her face was all red and blotchy from tears. Unable to catch her breath to talk because of running so hard, she stood there panting for a moment. Then, with tears in her voice, she began screaming.

“He came out of the woods and grabbed K-k-ent. I tried to get him away from the guy, M-m-m-ooom, hic!! I couldn’t help him! He dragged K-k-k-ent off!! He was screaming for help, and I couldn’t do anything! Rich went after them! hic”

Big Kent jumped up before Helen, took Bethany by the shoulders, and shook her. “Calm the fuck down!! Talk slower and tell us just what happened!”

Bethany cried for a moment more before getting herself under control enough to talk. Her mother guided her to the couch to sit while her father went to the kitchen, grabbed a beer and sodas, and brought them back into the living room. Finally, Bethany calmed down enough to tell what happened.

While the three youngsters had been out roaming the town this evening, they’d come to the woods near the Elementary school. Near the edge of the woods, they’d come across a mess of smashed pumpkins. Curious, they stopped to see what may have happened. Shining their flashlights around, they saw deer tracks, but also really large boot prints all around the pumpkins.

At first, the children didn’t think much about the footprints. They were searching the area intently for interesting signs, each hoping to find something they could take home. Finally, tired, Bethany turned to her brothers to tell them it was time to go, when they all heard a loud crash in the trees beside them. Bethany turned toward the sound just in time to see two flickering red eyes glaring at them through the trees. She had just enough time to scream before the huge man, wearing a Jack-o’-lantern mask, came out of the woods and snatched Little Kent up.

Rich reacted first, but Bethany followed close behind him. Each one grabbed one of Kent’s arms, trying to pry the man off of him. All three began screaming for the pedo to leave them alone. Suddenly,  the man opened his huge mouth, showing a row of jagged teeth, and bit a chunk out of Rich’s hand. Forcing Rich to let go. Shocked, Bethany froze for a moment, then felt Little Kent being pulled from her grasp, so she tightened her grip. All to no avail. The monster jerked her little brother from her arms, then turned and ran back the way it had come.  Rich didn’t pause; he quickly wrapped his hand to stop the bleeding. He ran after them to try to rescue his brother, telling Bethany to go home and tell their parents.

Bethany began to scream even louder. Now she was left alone in the dark, not knowing if any more of those creatures were around. Glancing at the houses lining the other side of the street, she was amazed that no one was coming outside to see what all the commotion was about. 

Once Bethany had told the story to her parents, she started bawling again, hiding her face in her mother’s lap. Her dad picked up the phone and tried to call the police station, but all he got was a voice recording about the curfew on the other end. Deciding he’d take matters into his own hands, Kent told his wife to lock the door after him and to take care of Bethany. Then he went out into the night to look for his beloved sons.

Too wound up to sleep, Helen and Bethany continued sitting in the living room. By the time the sun rose, they realized three family members were lost. Helen called the police at dawn.

An officer didn’t come by their house until three in the afternoon. Then the young policeman rushed through the statements and left immediately. Helen sensed her husband and sons' disappearances would be swept under the rug.

That night she sat up late and printed missing flyers. In the morning, she and Bethany went all over town, handing them out and hoping someone might have information. Helen wasn’t one to sit idly by when her family needed her.

Over the next couple of weeks, they handed out flyers everywhere, with no leads. Most people just laughed and shut the door in their faces. Some shook their heads, saying nothing as they closed their doors. Others refused to open their doors – at all. Yet there were a few, a horrible minority,  who went into detail about what had happened to Kent and the boys.

Pumpkin Head took’em and eat’em all up.

Ol’ Pumkin Hed wants a human coat.

Drags them to hell, he does, ma’am. Drags them straight to hell.

He’ll make slaves of them. That’s what Pumpkin Head will do. Work them to death, too.

You were warned to stay in after dark. We didn’t hide the monster from you.

Yep. Songs lik Punkin Hed git him sumthin this’n yer. 

Welp, their bones are picked clean.

They’ll never look for them. Pumpkin Head always wins.

No one knows where Pumpkin Head’s lair is.

Helen was stunned at the town’s lack of cooperation. No officer had searched the woods for her family, nor investigated the surrounding swampy areas. Every time she asked about the investigation’s status, the police chief told her to go home; they were looking where they could. She and Bethany grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of response.

Days turned into weeks, and still no results. Finally, tired of hearing all the Pumpkin Head theories for her family's disappearance, Helen packed up. Taking her daughter,  she moved back to Los Angeles. Leaving her forwarding information with the police, she told them, “At least LA has fewer monsters to deal with…”