The Mysteriously Dark Pumpkin

Written by A. Sylvur for Brayven

Word Count: 665

The afternoon sky was clear and the sun shone bright. The cool wind rushed through the small town of Gohthsvylle as almost everyone in town prepared for the Pumpkin festival which the town was known for doing every year. The orange color of each pumpkin was too perfect and the roundness also seemed to have been shaped by magic of some kind. At this time of year no one in the world questioned the miracle. Instead, they headed to Gohthsvylle for the perfect pumpkin for Halloween. Streamers with symbols and festive images were hung as tables were covered and decorated for the evening ahead.

One girl dressed in a black gown watched from a tree. Her eyes, lips and fingernails were lined in black. She watched as people carried boxes of pumpkins to the tables. But one pumpkin caught her eye. It was the one that wasn’t perfect. It had a black spot on one side. Her eyes glowed and a wicked smile stretched her mouth as the pumpkin drew near then she jumped down from the tree.

“What are you doing?” A young man asked as he straightened the box that almost fell off his shoulder.

“I’m here for games and prizes, same as you, Jack,” the girl sassed then grabbed the pumpkin with the spot then ran fast.

He screamed and shouted for her to return his pumpkin. When she didn’t stop, he called his brother, handed him the box then ran after the girl.

She ran all the way home and pushed open the gate. In her rush, she didn’t stop to admire the dark beauty of her ancient home with the stone gargoyles that protected the walkway up to the front door. The black spot on the town’s ‘perfect’ pumpkin had her completely under a spell. When she finally reached her room, she locked the door behind her and stared at the spot that had grown. Half of the pumpkin was covered by the spot, the other half a perfect orange hue.

“Wow,” she whispered to herself.

Someone knocked on her door and she jumped, somewhat spooked. A moment later a familiar soft feminine voice spoke.

“Pumpkin? Are you alright?”

She sighed. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Well, someone is here saying you stole a pumpkin. Did you?”

Her shoulders dropped and she set the pumpkin on a bench. “You didn’t give me any money and I really, really, really wanted this one. Would you please pay him?”

“Of course I will, but from now on don’t take something without paying for it first. If you had looked in your purse there was money in it.”

Pumpkin opened the door, stepped out into the hall and hugged her mom, “Deal and thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.” Her mom spoke lovingly. “Now let me take care of this man then I want to see that special pumpkin of yours. And it had better be special.”

“It is.” Pumpkin nodded as she watched her mom disappear at the other end of the hall. She grabbed the pumpkin from the bench then ran to her bed on a pedestal in the middle of her large room with stairs all around. “How did you get your color, my darling pumpkin?” For several minutes she could only stare and wondered if it was her imagination that she could actually see the pumpkin change color.

The sudden intake of breath jerked her head toward the door. Her mother stared too.

“Is it really what I think it is?”

“Yes, mother. It is and I didn’t paint this one. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Gracefully her mother glided to her bed. “It’s amazing.”

“Yes. But see, there’s an orange spot on this side,” she said as she pointed to the speck of orange. “It won’t be long before it is completely dark. It’s special.”

“Then we’ll have to call the gardener to plant these seeds. And use extra care, so you’ll have your own special black pumpkin patch next year.”