Cursed Pumpkin – Spawn of the Cursed Harvest

In some regions, an old rural legend still survives: after the harvest, not a single pumpkin should be left behind in the fields, because during the final nights of autumn, something may crawl inside the abandoned fruit. That is how a Cursed Pumpkin is born.

Its true danger is difficult to judge. Its sweet, earthy scent carries from afar, and in the orange glow of sunset, there is something strangely comforting about it despite its thorn-covered body and unnatural face.

The first encounter, however, feels very different.

Its fiery eyes flare to life. With one slow movement, its vines coil around your legs. You lose your balance and fall to your knees before it as the slender tendrils climb from your ankles toward your thighs. You know you should pull away.

Yet you don’t.

The vines explore your body with curious movements. One coils around your waist, while another glides along your arm, its tiny thorns barely scratching your skin. The first rush of fear slowly turns into a strange shiver. When the beast draws you closer, it is no longer the only one holding on.

You cling to it too.

Your quiet breaths grow quicker. The Cursed Pumpkin’s grin widens, as though it knows exactly what happened somewhere between your first moment of fear and your last sensible thought:

you already decided to stay.

The vines continue to caress you. One slowly searches for a way in, almost as though asking permission. Your body yields on its own. Another creeps along the curve of your back before, with the same patience and the same sense of inevitability, finding a place of its own. The two movements merge into one slow rhythm. The remaining vines simply hold, stroke and surround you – as if the silence itself could say everything that words cannot.

So the village legend was true after all. Now you understand why they forbid leaving the last pumpkin in the field. What you still don’t understand is why they always made it sound like such a bad thing.