Halloween night is a time when the strange and mysterious come alive, and this year was no exception.
The wind was unseasonably warm, wrapping around us like a cloak, the temperature soaring higher than I’d ever known for an October 31st. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to complain; the warmth felt almost surreal against the backdrop of Halloween’s usual chill.
With the moon absent, darkness clung to the village, thick and oppressive, despite the feeble glow of the streetlights struggling against the shadows.
Leaves rustled underfoot, whispering secrets of the night as I stood on my porch, handing out candies to what I thought was the last hordes of little monsters that roamed the streets.
My supply of candies dwindled, and I felt an unsettling pressure. A chill crept down my spine as I realized that just one more batch of trick-or-treaters could leave me completely vulnerable, at their mercy, with nothing left to offer but the stark emptiness of my bowl.
The thought gnawed at me, the weight of their eager, expectant faces haunting the corners of my mind.
What would I do if they arrived demanding more? What tricks might they play in the dark of Halloween night?
Exhausted, I finally retreated inside, a cup of bitter coffee in hand, hoping to find solace in the silence.
I flicked off the porch lights, banishing the last flickers of festivity, whispering to myself that the shop was closed for the night.
My wife and kids had ventured to another town, off to enjoy Halloween with friends while I remained behind, instructed not to wait for them. They planned to immerse themselves in a horror movie after their ride, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Despite the fatigue weighing on me, I saw this eerie solitude as a chance to finish my blog post, due this weekend.
I settled in front of my laptop, the screen casting ghostly light in the dim room, and began to type, the words flowing like a distant echo.
Just two paragraphs in, a sharp knock sliced through the stillness, sending a jolt through me.
I hesitated, debating whether to pretend I was absent.
The knocking grew more insistent, each thud resonating with a strange urgency that set my nerves on edge.
Reluctantly, I stood up, annoyed by the fact it’s becoming late for new guests, and approached the door.
But as I reached for the knob, I paused, breath hitching.
The door was slightly ajar, swaying gently with the wind, as if inviting me into the unknown. A chill ran down my spine.
The wind suddenly felt strangely colder.
I glanced at the candy bowl, my pulse quickening when I saw it was empty. Had I really run out? No! I’m sure minutes ago I had still at least a last handful remaining.
This realization sank in like a heavy weight. Someone entered!
Alone on Halloween, with the shadows closing in, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something sinister was waiting just beyond the threshold.
Stepping onto the porch, I scanned the street. The night felt motion less, the porch was empty—except for a strange silhouette, frozen in the glow of a distant streetlight.
A cold mist slithered along the ground, wrapping around my ankles as I stepped closer, drawn by an inexplicable pull.
The female figure seemed to gaze back at me, but just as I took a step forward, a gust of wind whipped through the air. The door slammed shut behind me with a deafening bang.
My heart raced, pounding in my chest like a warning bell, as the night swallowed me whole.
Then my mobile phone rang, and I answered to the sound of deep, unsettling laughter. I lifted my head, but the silhouette I had seen moments before had vanished.
The streetlights and nearby houses flickered erratically, casting shadows, while car horns blared in a cacophony that felt unreal. The streets were deserted; not a single child remained.
My phone went dead, cutting off any hope of calling for help. I glanced up at the trees in front of me, and my breath caught as I saw the moon rising, casting a strange, dark light. But it wasn’t just the moon—something was coming toward me!
It was enormous and orange, barreling straight in my direction. A giant pumpkin!
Paralyzed beneath a streetlight that had suddenly turned off, I felt my heart race as the pumpkin drew closer. A rhythmic “TikTok, TikTok” echoed from it, the sound growing louder.
It halted about fifty feet away, revealing a gaping mouth that glowed ominously.
In a guttural voice, it bellowed, “You need a thousand!”
Then the “TikTok” resumed, and before I could react, the pumpkin exploded into a swarm of wasps, forming a dark cloud that rushed toward me.
Just as panic gripped me, the female silhouette reappeared at my side. She grabbed my hand, urgency etched across her face. “Follow me!” she urged, and with no other choice, I sprinted after her into the shadows.
At the corner of the street we turn left crossing by the park to enter a place where trees are mature and more dense. We were still running taking a path where no-one take at this time of the night.
A rotten apple splattered against a tree to my left, its foul scent wafting through the air. I turned to see trolls tumbling down from the branches, hurling their putrid projectiles at us with gleeful malice.
My new guide, her voice tense and urgent, warned me, “Don’t get hit! If you do, you’ll fall asleep, and they’ll get you. I won’t be able to help!”
I glanced back, panic rising. “But why are they after me? What do I need a thousand of?”
“Focus! Don’t get distracted. We need to reach the bridge. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe,” she insisted, her eyes darting toward the shadows.
“The bridge?” I asked, bewildered. I had no idea there was a bridge nearby.
Another rotten apple splattered on my right, and I felt my legs grow heavy, exhaustion creeping in like a thick fog.
“Come on, hurry! There it is!” she urged, pointing ahead.
Confusion swirled in my mind, but I pushed forward, desperation fueling my steps. We approached a massive rock that seemed to rise ominously from the ground.
She took my hand and placed it against the cold surface, murmuring words I couldn’t quite make out. “Trust the process,” she added, her voice steady.
Suddenly, I felt as if I was sliding down a monstrous water slide, the sensation both thrilling and terrifying.
Then, with a jolt, I landed, my friend tumbling in just behind me, the chaos of trolls and rotten apples left behind as we plunged into the unknown.
“We’re safe now,” she said, and it felt like I was seeing her for the first time. She was striking—a young woman with vibrant green eyes and long, flowing red hair, dressed in an outfit that seemed entirely out of place for the season.
We stood in a room where dancing shadows flickered like whispers, a sanctuary where all worries faded away. The soft glow of candles cast eerie shapes, and I heard her whisper in my ear, “J’entends ton cœur” (I can hear your heart).
My heart was racing, pounding like a drum, yet somehow, I felt reassured—a strange trust blossomed between us.
“Why were those trolls chasing us?” I asked, my curiosity mingling with confusion.
“The trolls are merely servants of the big pumpkin you encountered tonight,” she explained, her voice steady and comforting.
“The big pumpkin wants to reclaim his control over Halloween. To do that, he needs to dominate the supply of candies throughout the night. Children no longer fear Halloween; they revel in it, and candies fuel that joy. So he sends his minions after people like you,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she spoke.
The weight of her words settled in the air like a thick fog, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the night was far from over. She continued, her voice low and urgent. “Tonight, the trolls were after you, but they also stole all the candies from your village, lulling people to sleep before entering their homes.”
“But why did you say ‘people like me’? Why does the big pumpkin want me specifically?” I asked, confusion gnawing at me.
“Because he knows you’ve scratched the surface of a great secret that could threaten his very existence. If he loses control over Halloween, he won’t be able to keep people bound by their fears and darkness,” she explained, her eyes flickering with intensity.
“…And why did he say I need a thousand? A thousand of what?”
“Oh, that…” she paused, gauging my reaction. “With a thousand, you unlock a wondrous power—one that lets you create a bridge guiding you and those who follow you to this room. The big pumpkin doesn’t want you to reach a thousand, so he sends his servants to impede your progress.”
“Okay, but… why?” I pressed, my impatience bubbling up.
“Because then you’ll bring more people here, closer to the secret” she said, her tone heavy with meaning.
“What secret? And a thousand of what?” I asked again, desperate for answers.
She fell silent, instead guiding me to a massive door looming in front of us. The words “Get your Advantage” were etched into its surface, accompanied by a sign depicting an open book. The air felt charged, as if the door itself held countless mysteries waiting to be revealed.
My guide leaned closer, her voice a haunting whisper. “You need a thousand. Gather a thousand like-minded souls who know you, like you, and trust you. She pointed to me what looks like a guest book that was lying on a small wooden table.
“Write down each name with your blood; Do this for over a thousand guests and feel the power of the big pumpkin decreasing in your favor.
Once you achieve this, that power is just the beginning—the tip of a much more bigger gift. Hold their best interests at heart and guide them here when they need you most.”
She continued, her eyes shimmering with intensity. “When you’re ready, step into this room, and the secret will be revealed. Master it, and your power will be unleashed. You will no longer fear the big pumpkin and his tricks; he’ll steer clear of your home forever, and you’ll never run short of candies again on Halloween.”
“What if the big pumpkin finds us here?” I asked, anxiety creeping in.
“The big pumpkin has no power here,” she replied firmly. “The one who controls the candies controls Halloween…”
Then she murmured in my ear, “…this is the iceberg effect.”
Without a second thought, I pushed the door open.
Suddenly, I was enveloped by a haze, and when I opened my eyes, I was jolted back to reality.
I found myself slumped over my keyboard, a trickle of saliva escaping the corner of my mouth.
Familiar voices floated in from the entrance; it was my kids and my wife returning from their Halloween night. The warmth of their laughter pulled me back, but the chill of the night’s revelations lingered in my mind.
The END
It’s more than a dream! The secret can be revealed to you and it’s not just about candies.
Read the Iceberg Effect book, unlock your full potential, and regain control of your life!
Because I have at heart your best interests!
Hope you had a happy Halloween and found this blog post entertaining.
See you next week!
Martin
P.S.
There are many metaphors in the text and allusions to previous posts, especially “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” and “Caution: trolls are attacking” so maybe you will want to revisit them.
I have used AI to help me with the vocabulary and to give a scary tone to some of my sentences.
Don’t be scared to leave a comment! 😉
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