In the run up towards Halloween children become excited. Further adults become excited to, they prepare the ground work for children. Making Witches hats, scary costumes and often carving pumpkins. Personally I like a little pumpkin pie once in a while and for me this is probably the best time to eat it. Or is it the idea of telling ghost stories, with a lamp light, a torch, a candle, a puppy dog's tail and a cat nearby. Because of course cats are said to have magical powers, others may think it's not true. But it is. And they do. Not magic as in the spooky uncanny kind. Perhaps in long inherent blood line, or their patience. Just as it is known to those in the know, pumpkins are not of this natural world.
Rubbish. If so, how come there is no other squash like a pumpkin? None as large or as orange in colour, non which grows in quite the same way. Fact pumpkins grow in 6 out of 7 continents, and one other continent kept out of the fact books. In the last 3000 years pumpkins were eaten to celebrate the ending of the summer, and the beginning of the winter. Or rather season of the night of the dead. It seems odd a pumpkin should be the victim of human hunger. When previously it was humans who were the victims of pumpkin hunger.
For it is said pumpkins were never orange in colour to start with, they were albino, but through thousands of years of growing in the fields of the dead their roots sapped the rotting seeped soil from bodies on top. In the time when sacrifice was common to appease the Nights of the dead. Ironic, such tribes of people would chose an innocent from amongst them and give this person up to the dead. Families did it willingly, because they didn't want to anger the Night. In choosing it would be a member who had caused them the most trouble, a sarcastic child, one who was stubborn or talked back. This in turn would keep all the other children of the tribe quite for the winter months. Before Father Christmas was invented, and the notion of blackmailing kids to be good had caught on. They used the reality of the Night of the Dead. So to return Pumpkins are orange because of the stained bloodied soil from which they came and had drunk. So it's a shame in some sense many people don't eat them as a kind of divine retribution.
I heard of 2 young girls once in a house not so far from a major river up North who considered a pumpkin as a light things to joke about. It had a candle in it and was christened Jack. Unfortunately, a combination of events can do something quite bizarre to pumpkins even in the 20th century where beliefs are few between. One even recently was the movement of the earth through the residual tail of Hailey's comet. This happened only 2 days ago. Shooting stars appear in the atmosphere, these are very tiny minuscule particles, when they burn up they look bright and awesome. However, being of extra terrestrial origin they have content which can awaken the most dormant of genes. One speckle has only to touch the skin of a man and he will never be the same again. More than one and he may never be seen again, being transformed, and pulled through interdimensional time to when the night of the dead was very real. Because these speckles of space dust, are thousands of years old. Their qualities excite and change ordinary everyday objects into what they really were like, those thousands of years ago.
The pumpkin played with and toyed with, giggle at and the but of many childish jokes, called Jack had been touched. Unbeknown by these unlucky and very unfortunate teenage girls. To them the world of soft cuddly toys, mums who made pasta and chocolate on tap would change over night. Pumpkin Jack was now in a state of change born again to his old self.
As the night wore on, Pumpkin Jack metamorphosed. It was not the little changes which matter, in his case it was the big changes. Ones which couldn't be missed no matter who you were. Long slender tentacles developed long enough to be legs. Slightly shorter ones as arms. With this came mobility. His arms and legs moved around as though they were quite natural. Because they were, 3000 years ago! When fresh red dark blood was drunk from the ground he grew in. He knew this, and as his genes had now awakened Pumpkin Jack, felt the hunger. Except no tribe was there to supply him with an obnoxious teenage child. This time he'd have to look for himself. And not so far away upstairs slept 2 such girls. He could tell, they had a kind of sweet smell to them. Nice and juicy, his roots would suck away their blood while they slept. He would become stronger and go on to find the rest of this night's menu.
Asleep in a dream world was Teenage Rock Chick and her friend Emily oblivious to their visitor. With ease Pumpkin Jack stealthily climbed the stairs. He pushed open the door and his head turned the corner. He still had his candle burning inside his head, and upon the walls caste a shadow of pointed teeth. He ran his tendril over the quilts as the girls slept. He reached up towards the face of one. And he could feel her breath over his slim rooted fingers. Slowly his string like hand reached down under and around her neck, it began to close. He knew if he constricted to slowly she would feel him. So quickly he tightened his grip. Rock Chick awoke and stared up. Fear in her eyes, trying to gasp and to shout but she could not. A whimper barely let lose. She fort with her hands pulling hard at his vines, struggling to tear him away. Emily began to stir, Jack was not quick enough and she let out a small scream before he had his second vined hand around her throat as well. His grip tightend, though weak because of his recent birth, he held on. The two girls struggled for their life as breath weeped away from their lungs. Their faces turning red, they struggled hard but it was not enough.
In the next room on a bed slept a black and white cat. His ears had popped up, alert. He let out a meow loud enough to wake the neighbours, but it wasn't for the sake of the neighbours for inbred within the make up of cats is a virus which kills rampant pumpkin carnivores. This lion with curiosity pounced into Rock Chick's room, behind him Beautiful Sparkling Eyes had awoken, she was alert and for some reason sensed all was not well. The small scream had penetrated her sleep, she began to hear the sound of thrashing arms as the girls fought. Sparkling eyes would take on anything in her way. The noise of two teenage girls fighting for their lives was clear, not shouting but clawing, punching and pounding at Pumpkin Jack. They hit with all their strength, but being weakened with breath they were become less and less effective.
The door sprang open. Fearlessly the cat clawed at a tendroned limb of Pumpkin Jack, cats enjoy such games. His claws stuck deep. Sparkling eyes jumped on the orange headed monster. It collapsed on the bed and as it did so his head turned around. Like a horror movie it turned to where it's back would be. The candle flickered at Sparkling Eyes. She took a breath and blew hard. The light went out. This cat like all cats, harboured in his make up a virus. Only known to exist 3000 years ago. Now it became active. The a cat's scratch infected green blooded Pumpkin Jack. He became weaker, as he had not had his chance to feed from the girls blood. Sparkling eyes threw a fist at the pumpkin head of Jack. It took flight and hit the wall rolling on the floor. It was heavy, but so is the might of a woman protecting her child. Jack’s body soon withered, becoming no more than a dusty green layer. In turn this layer disappeared and no evidence was left.
Just the hollowed out head of Jack. So next time girls you decide to make fun of a pumpkin think twice. You'll not be warned again.
Happy Halloweeennnnnnnnn
