The inky night formed a cloak around them as they trudged wearily through the dark woods. “Not much longer now,” breathed Arachna wearily.
Suddenly a squelching noise came from the ground around Nyx’s feet. She covered her mouth to keep from squealing. Raven shone the dying flashlight on the leafy terrain. “Just a pumpkin,” she sighed.
“I don’t know,” Arachna ventured. “That looks like the remains of someone’s jack-o-lantern to me.”
Raven laughed nervously. “But who? I’m pretty we’re the only people who got lost trick-or-treating, and as far as anyone knows, no one lives out here.”
Nyx bent down to inspect more closely just what she had destroyed. “No, she’s right,” she whispered. “Look at these curves. That’s the work of a knife.”
“Let’s just go, guys,” shuddered Arachna, and the three kept walking.