Every Halloween, Lucy would decorate her house with pumpkins, cobwebs, and friendly ghosts, preparing candy for the neighborhood kids. This year, she decided to try something different, adding a motion-activated skeleton to her front yard. She was eager to see the kids’ reactions to her spooky new addition.

As dusk settled, the trick-or-treaters began arriving, and laughter filled the street. Everything seemed normal—until a lone child appeared at her gate. Unlike the other kids, this one wore an old-fashioned costume that looked like it was from another era, with a faded, Victorian-style cloak and a pale mask that obscured their face. The child didn’t come to the door or join the other kids. Instead, they stood motionless at the edge of Lucy’s yard, watching.

Curious and a bit unsettled, Lucy grabbed a candy bar and walked over, calling out, “Hey there! Would you like some candy?” But the child didn’t respond, remaining still, their gaze fixed on her.

As she approached, Lucy noticed something strange—the child’s shoes were covered in mud and leaves, as if they’d walked through the woods. She stretched out her hand to offer the candy, but the child took a step back, retreating into the shadows. Before she could say anything more, the figure turned and vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only a faint footprint on the ground.

Lucy brushed it off as a strange encounter, until the next night, when she saw the same child standing at her gate again. This time, there were no trick-or-treaters, only the eerie silence of a November night. She felt a chill and hurried back inside, locking the door behind her.

But just as she turned off the porch light, she heard a soft, childlike whisper through the door: “Trick or treat… I’m not finished yet.”

Lucy’s heart pounded as she peered through the peephole, but the porch was empty. The child had vanished without a trace. Determined to understand, she reviewed her security footage, expecting to see the child at her gate. But when she played the recording, the yard was empty. The child had never been there—at least, not on camera.

A chill ran down her spine as she remembered that footprint left in the mud. The next morning, she found it again, fresh and clear on her doorstep. The faint whisper echoed in her mind: “I’ll be back next Halloween…”