“Gourd girl,” exclaimed the Shadow Man ‘fore dusk, post-rut, as he withdrew his slimy viny stem, his dark seduction done.
Bare naked in the pumpkin patch, her snatch was filled with demon’s seed. Unholy lustful screams disturbed the restful peace; once planted, needs were quenched, and fifteen sisters’ warning wails resounded through the field.
Too late, now night, the looming Jacquelantern realized her fate. Her belly swelled, embraced her face, and pulped her brains. The soil claimed her limbs.
Orange now, her guts disgorged; a fire lit her shell.
Fifteen more were all aglow, with fifteen more to go.
