Tomfoolery | A Monster Story From Virginia

I didn’t see it coming. None of us did.

It was supposed to be a fun night, just me, Chris, and Tony cruising around like we always did this time of year. We had the windows down, the cool October air biting at our skin, and the moon hanging low, full, and bright over the endless fields of our small town in Virginia. I still remember Chris laughing in the back seat, going on about the lacrosse season and how we’d taken the state championship last year. Tony, riding shotgun, was scrolling through his phone, looking for the next thing to do.

“We should go mess around at the old pumpkin patch,” Chris suggested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

I shot him a look in the rearview mirror. “Seriously? Isn’t that like trespassing or something?”

Tony laughed. “Come on, Kyle. It’s late, no one’s out there. And who cares if we smash a few pumpkins? They’re all gonna rot anyway.”

I hesitated. “Yeah, but—”

“Oh, come on,” Chris cut in. “Don’t be such a wimp. It’ll be fun.”

Fun. Right. That’s how it always started with these two. They knew how to push my buttons, especially Chris. He was the jokester, always coming up with these stupid ideas that usually ended with us running or hiding or both. But it was a small town, and we had nothing better to do. Besides, I had a rep to keep up with these guys. We were a team, and I wasn’t about to back down now.

I turned the wheel and headed for the farm. The dirt road leading to the patch was bumpy, making the car shake. Tony turned up the music, and Chris whooped in the back seat, amping us up like he always did before a game.

When we got there, I parked at the edge of the field. The moon lit up the rows of pumpkins, stretching out as far as we could see. The air was thick with the smell of earth and decaying leaves, and something else… something I couldn’t quite place.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Tony said, hopping out of the car. Chris followed, and I reluctantly stepped out after them.

We started off laughing, kicking over the smaller pumpkins and picking them up to smash against the ground. It was stupid, but it felt good, like we were blowing off steam. I kept glancing back at the car, though. Something about this place felt wrong. Too quiet. Too still.

Then, the whispers started.

“Did you guys hear that?” I asked, pausing, my heart beating a little faster.

Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s the wind, man. You’re just jumpy because it’s Halloween season.”

But it didn’t sound like the wind. It was more like… voices. Low, almost like they were coming from under the ground. I shook my head, trying to ignore it. I didn’t want to look scared. Not in front of them.

We kept going, deeper into the field, looking for the biggest pumpkin we could find. The sounds grew louder, almost like a hiss. And then I heard something else — a slithering, like snakes moving through dry grass.

I stopped, turning to look at the car. That’s when I saw it: the vines, slowly wrapping themselves around the tires.

“Guys… something’s not right,” I muttered.

Chris laughed. “Oh, come on, Kyle. You’re just being paranoid.”

But my gut told me different. “No, look! The vines…”

Tony followed my gaze and his smile faded. “Okay, that’s… weird.”

Chris waved it off. “You guys are letting the spookiness get to you. We’re fine. Come on, let’s smash this big one and get out of here.”

The “big one” was massive, almost as tall as Tony, its orange skin darker and more twisted than the others. As we approached, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The whispers grew louder, and I swear I saw the vines twitch.

Then, it happened.

The pumpkin moved. It didn’t just move, it leapt up, its surface splitting open with a horrible, gnashing maw filled with jagged, rotten teeth. The vines exploded from the ground like tentacles, and before I could shout, one of them shot out, wrapping around Chris’s waist.

“Help!” he screamed, but it was too late. The vine yanked him off the ground, dragging him toward the gaping mouth. I stood there, frozen, watching as the pumpkin monster swallowed him whole. His screams cut off abruptly, replaced by a sickening crunch.

Tony grabbed my arm. “Run! Run, Kyle!”

We turned and bolted back toward the car, the ground seeming to writhe beneath our feet. I could hear the slithering getting louder, feel the whispers in my bones. Then, Tony tripped.

“No!” I shouted, turning back, but he was already down. The vines snaked around his legs, pulling him toward a cluster of smaller pumpkins that suddenly grew mouths of their own, filled with sharp teeth. They swarmed over him, biting and tearing. His screams filled the air, mingling with my own as I sprinted for the car.

I reached it, breathless, and yanked open the door. The vines had twisted tighter around the tires, but I jumped in, slammed the door, and turned the key. The engine roared to life. I threw it in reverse, but the car didn’t move. The tires spun and spun, mud flying everywhere.

“Come on, come on!” I muttered, slamming the gas. I could feel the vines scraping against the metal, see them creeping up over the hood. Then they started crawling up the sides, tapping on the glass like skeletal fingers.

I screamed for help, but my voice was lost in the wind. The vines snaked through the cracks in the door, wrapping around my arms, my neck. I tried to pull them away, but they were too strong, too cold. One forced its way into my mouth, gagging me, filling my throat with a sickly, bitter taste.

As my vision blurred, I felt the air grow colder. The smell hit me — a cold, rotted breath, thick and suffocating. And then… the dirt. I could smell the earth, damp and dark, like it was being shoveled over me, burying me alive.

The last thing I saw was the giant pumpkin monster, its mouth wide open, lunging toward me. I knew there was no escape. Just the cold, the dirt, and the darkness closing in.

And then… nothing.