Happy Halloween! Our panel of spooky judges received amazing stories from very talented edhatters. We were impressed by the quality of writing and imagination by all our submissions, including our many local students!

Before we announce the winner, it’s time to meet our judges:

Lauren is the publisher of edhat and a fan of SNL sketch comedy. This year she’ll be dressing up Will Ferrell’s character “Gene Frenkle,” the overzealous cowbell player.
JaneTV is edhat’s film and movie columnist who is enjoying throwback thriller and horror movies. This year she’ll be dressing up as Sigourney Weaver from “Alien.”

The judges rated each story on a scale of 1 to 5. Every story has the same beginning story prompt and must include the phrases: cauldron, Twix, and Gauchos. Here’s the prompt:

The Winner!

This was tough, because we had a lot of great stories come through this year. However, there can only be one and our judges agreed the winner of the 2025 Edhat annual Halloween Short Story Contest is… Jess Williams! You’ve just won a $30 gift card to Handlebar Coffee Roasters.

Their winning story is available to read below, followed by our Honorable Mentions. Congratulations to all, a job well done!

2025 Edhat Winning Halloween Story

“Minutes from the Marine Layer”
By Jess Williams

“It’s dusk on Halloween near Old Mission Santa Barbara. Children dressed as witches and superheroes zoom around the Rose Garden laughing as nearby homes play “Monster Mash.” I lay out a blanket near the roses and wait for my friends to arrive when I notice a thick fog creeping up from the coastline, blanketing downtown Santa Barbara and moving fast towards the Mission. I watch as it gets closer, enveloping everything around it. The music and laughter stop, it’s completely silent as fog surrounds me. I check my phone, it’s dead, and I can’t see anything except for three dark figures in the distance.”

They approach like a committee with a quorum. The first wears a moth-eaten cardigan and a lanyard that reads “Docent Emeritus.” The second jingles a giant key ring and drags a sandwich board that says “Open House: Ocean Adjacent (Fog Not Included).” The third is in a UCSB hoodie and sombrero, a grinning gaucho balancing a portable Bluetooth speaker and a cauldron that doubles as a punch bowl.

“Welcome to the Special Meeting of the Marine Layer,” the docent intones. “Public comment is open for exactly two minutes per soul.”

The Realtor smiles with teeth so white they light the mist. “Before we begin, I’d like to disclose that I represent the fog. It’s not a problem; it’s an amenity. Think ‘coastal chic diffuser.’”

I clear my throat. “Is this… a haunting?”

“Please,” the docent sighs. “This is Santa Barbara. It’s a process.”

From the fog roll in grievances like e-bikes on State Street: ghosts complaining the Mission bells violate their quiet hours; apparitions furious about kids stepping on roses “without a coastal development permit”; a vampire demanding the city declare a moratorium on garlic bread until an EIR is completed.

Someone shoves a clipboard into my hands. It’s a petition to rebrand the fog as “artisan marine gauze.” The Realtor whispers, “For just $5,000, you can join the Founders’ Circle and keep sunsets exclusive.”

I offer a peace treaty: fun-size Twix from my blanket. The gaucho squints. “Fun-size? In Montecito they hand out full bars.”

“We’ll accept the Twix as an in-lieu fee,” the docent says.

He stamps my candy with a red seal reading Compliant and the fog around my ankles warms politely, like a Patagonia fleece.

“New business,” the Realtor announces. “The fog requests an encroachment permit to colonize the Funk Zone, plus naming rights: ‘Fog by an International Luxury Brand You Can’t Afford.’”

“Seconded,” says the gaucho.

“Point of order,” I say, channeling every Nextdoor thread I’ve regretted reading. “Does the fog do anything… Halloweeny?”

The docent snaps his fingers. The mist drafts itself into columns like Spanish Colonial Revival and begins a highly regulated spook: tasteful, 30-foot maximum, with terracotta accents. From the haze materialize ghosts of failed juice cleanses, expired parking meters, and a trolley no one asked for. A choir of HOA covens in matching athleisure chants, “We support change—as long as it changes nothing.”

The gaucho fires the Bluetooth and the “Monster Mash” resumes, but at a respectful 55 decibels. The children reappear, slightly bewildered to learn they must file a candy circulation plan. A witch is cited for unpermitted airborne broom activity. A superhero is asked to scale back caped flight to preserve mountain views.

At last, the fog reaches the Mission steps, exhales, and pauses for public comment. I step up, deposit my last full-size Twix into the cauldron, and say, “Maybe let the roses have Halloween?”

The fog considers, flips through binders, and then—like a city council surprising itself—votes yes. It peels back toward the coastline in orderly lanes, promising to host a workshop on “Equitable Spooking” after the farmers market.

My phone pings back to life. A notification: “FogPAC thanks you for your contribution. Enjoy your tier: Marine Layer, Ad-Free.” I fold the blanket as the roses glow and the kids laugh again, and I swear I hear the docent whisper, satisfied, “Process works.”

Honorable Mentions

By Paulina Conn

The usually bright lights in the Old Mission bell towers fade through the fog making the three distant figures look as though they are eerily floating my way. The three seem to have detached balls circling their heads at different levels from really high, about 10 feet up to low, about four feet from the ground. Sometimes the balls are in the air glowing yellow and sometimes they disappear in the fog. They reappear lower and their glow shows glinting, squinting eyes but no other facial features or body parts.

I like spooky movies but spooky outdoor reality feels a lot scarier. For company I have only real silence, dense drippy fog, eerie light, and these floating shadowy figures, with oddly small dancing balls accompanying them. I feel very alone and more scared than I thought I’d feel in this familiar location.

Suddenly I hear squeak, squeak and hoot-hoot-hoooot-hoo, coming from above the floating figures. The three-quarter, fog enshrouded moon has risen above the Old Mission. I squint and see a cauldron of bats rise from the belfries. They fly squeaking as they go. One swoops close to my head and catches a moth from a rose. I stifle a scream. The hoot-hoot-hoooot-hoo turns out to be a great horned owl that I now hear coming from the large eucalyptus at the end of the rose garden. I try to find the owl to calm my nerves but the fog is too thick, the light too blurry and night too black.

I am about to get up when I’m showered with a paper bag full of Twix. My friends have arrived. They are the floating figures wearing long filmy robes. The eerily dancing balls are their Gaucho hats with slit eye masks attached. One friend is on stilts.

We sit a moment and talk of our adventures. I say suddenly, “Did you know this is Santa Barbara’s most intact historical area?”

“Mary Osborne Craig designed the homes there on Plaza Rubio in the early 1920s. “

“The Hazard family compound at 505 E. Los Olivos Street is still intact with Mission Hill (1885) and Dial House (c. 1913) still as they were. Caroline Hazard saved her father’s 1891 Mission Creek Bridge design when the bridge was widened in 1930. Caroline gave land to the Museum of Natural History. She helped purchase land from the Mission for Mission Historical Park.“

“Rocky Nook, the naturalistic ranch of Frances Dabney Oliver and husband from 1882 to 1926, became a County Park in 1928. It is now a Historical Landmark, depicting the natural land of the Chumash and ancient debris flows of the area.”

“Pearl Chase (1888-1979), matron of Santa Barbara’s aesthetic design, loved Mission Canyon and the Old Mission area. She ensured aesthetic compatibility here.”

We ponder all this and decide on a historic walk in the dark. We walk by the 1806 ruins into Mission Canyon. The blanket goes into my packable, black cauldron bag. Our hand cranked emergency radio plays “Monster Mash”. The fog clears as we go over the bridge. We can see the stars, moon and silhouetted trees. We note Rocky Nook Park. We walk down a deserted lane with Gaucho hats bobbing, sharing our garish green Halloween Twix. I am giddy and no longer scared.

By Anthony Catalano

My chest tightens. With all the fears I’ve been carrying lately, my mind leaps to the worst possible conclusion. On Halloween night, what could be more terrifying than a visit from them?

A thousand thoughts compete for my attention. I’m American. They’re not after me. They’ve raided homes. They’ve separated families. And there are children here.

Wait, where are the kids?

I look around the Rose Garden, but the air is growing thick and clouds my vision. I search my pockets for anything I can use as a makeshift mask against the choking fog, but my fingers find only an empty Twix wrapper.

Suddenly, a hand covers my screen. I brace for the impact.

But nothing happens.

I look up at my assailant expecting a can of pepper spray leveled at my face, but instead I am met with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

For the first time, I realize the tendrils of smoke flitting around the park are not actually burning my eyes, nor is it some otherworldly mist biting through my clothing with the arrival of these three strangers. Instead it’s somehow comforting, and it envelops me like a warm blanket on a cold night.

“Everything is going to be ok,” a soft voice reassures me. “You can put that away now. You don’t need it anymore.”

She smiles as she squeezes my hand. Instinctively, I offer my phone to the old woman. She seems to be glowing.

‘“There is much evil in this,” says the man to her right. He’s dressed like the mascot I’ve seen on countless Gauchos shirts. He takes my phone and tosses it into a cauldron. The third figure, broad-shouldered and bare-chested, kneels down to build a fire.

Something about them feels achingly familiar. I know these people.

The woman draws me into her arms and whispers into my ear, “You’re never alone.”

Flames lick the base of the cauldron. “Over the generations, this land has seen more disaster and destruction than any community of this size should ever suffer,” says the Chumash elder.

“But we rebuild – together.” José Antonio Ramirez pulls a brick from the cauldron and hands it to me. It’s just like the ones the Spanish stonemason had used to rebuild the mission two centuries ago.

“There is much strength in this place.” The milky haze does a brilliant dance at a wave from Pearl Chase’s hand, transforming into a ghostly vision of Santa Barbara itself. “And its strength lies in its people.”

Others join us out of the opaque curtain of mist. Spaniards and students, Chumash and children. Many of them still bear the wounds from fires and bullets and mudslides, but there is nothing grotesque about their scars from another life. Rather, they seem to radiate hope.

“You are a part of this place, as are we all,” says the elder.

José guides me gently to some nearby masonry. “Come, now it is your turn to take up the mantle of responsibility and add your strength to this community.”

Slowly, as I place my brick into a conspicuous hole in the wall, the spirits fade back into the laughter and music of families trick-or-treating in the park.
My burdens and fears fade with them, replaced by a deep calm. I can still feel their warmth, an invisible shield of love and belonging.

We are never alone.

“Visionary Halloween”
By Jolinda Pizziraini

Gradually, I could make out the faces of my three friends as they floated through the fog toward me in the Rose Garden. As teenagers, we were getting a little old for trick-or-treating, but we loved getting all the candy, especially the Twix bars. I was dressed as a witch and holding a cauldron to carry my candy in, while my friends were dressed as a Gaucho, a policewoman and an astronaut.

As we climbed onto our hoverboards, we glanced disdainfully at the tall box-like building that had been erected behind the Mission despite the heated objections voiced by many residents of Santa Barbara.

We zipped down Mission to State Street, intent on hitting up the stores and restaurants handing out goodies. Most of the small, quaint stores of the past had been replaced with 3 to 6-story buildings. The heart of State was crowded with parklets, tables, chairs and people. We were yelled at a few times as we wove in and out through the crowd, but we were careful not to hit anyone (unlike the e-bikes of the past).

As we reached the 101 overpass, we were relieved to see the VTOL traffic was moving smoothly. Our parents had told us about the never-ending automobile freeway construction of the mid 2020’s. Up ahead on the wharf, we saw a line of people waiting to board the speedy hovercraft that would transport them to one of the oil rigs just offshore which were now busy nightclubs with colorful lights and music.

The skyscraper casino on the beach was doing a thriving business, and the monorail that sped over what used to be the railroad tracks was loaded with happy travelers. The Santa Barbara of the past that my parents had told me about was gone, replaced by futuristic spectacles and sounds.Finally satisfied that we had enough candy to last a while, we floated off our separate ways to go back home. I noticed the fog had dissipated by the time I climbed into bed with a satisfied sigh.

“Wake up, sleepyhead! You’re going to miss Halloween!” my mom said from the doorway. I blinked and sat up, looking down at my witch costume and realizing it had all been a dream. Or should I say nightmare? All I could think about was how happy I was that beautiful Santa Barbara was still around. I climbed on my e-bike and happily rode off to join my friends this Halloween night.

By Lisa Piltz

The comforting and familiar, yet overwhelming, aroma of Beef Bourguignon wafted from a nearby food truck. I felt cold and anxious as three images emerged from the fog, intentionally approaching me. As they drew near, the first identifiable figure appeared to be Einstein, a proud Gaucho and Nobel Prize winner in Physics, his gold medal securely grasped in his hand; the second, a shabby, white robed Jesus in sandals, carrying the hefty burden of a cauldron on his back; the last was Oprah, shoving an entire Twix Chocolate Bar into her face. I was transfixed and thought to myself, “What an unlikely trio”. As they drew closer, I noticed a forth figure lagging behind. Into view came the celebrated French cooking goddess Julia Child, carrying a brown paper bag. I thought that her towering presence made the cast of characters even more intriguing. The four asked to join me on my blanket and, much to my surprise, they began talking about “How to Serve Man”, not the Rod Serling Twilight Zone cookbook version, but how humanity appears to be in the Golden Age of Stupidity and that we need to do something about it now! Julia fetched a long wooden spoon from her Mary Poppins bag and suggested that she utilize the cauldron to create a new recipe. She proceeded to gently fold together equal amounts of verifiable science, along with some compassion and sensibility, enriched with the addition of some rich chocolate … hoping to create the perfect recipe for the resurgence of common sense. The four agreed that this concoction, a combination of readily available ingredients, could be a last ditch effort for unity among man. Ultimately, Julia was one smart cookie, master chef, and passionate activist. In a poof, the quartet was gone.

My friends eventually arrived and I described to them my incredible encounter. “How wonderful it would be if one simple recipe could raise our consciousness”, one friend commented. “Adding two additional crucial ingredients such as empathy and tolerance might make a significant impact,” another friend added.

That eerie Halloween visit was enlightening for me and validated the fact that the future of mankind and the planet is in our hands. It also left me with the insatiable craving for Beef Bourguignon from the food truck. I placed my order and, soon thereafter, my name was called by Julia who said, “Bon Appétit!”

By Thomas Smith

I hold my breath as the figures emerge through the fog. At first, I think they’re kids in costume—a prank, maybe—but their movements are too slow, too deliberate. Their silhouettes ripple in the mist: one tall and cloaked, two smaller and hooded. They move together, soundless, as though bound by the same pulse.

The roses along the Mission garden edge sway though no wind stirs. A chill slips around my ankles like a hand. My blanket feels useless, thin armor against something ancient.

“Hello?” I call out, but my voice is swallowed whole. No echo. No reply.

The figures stop just beyond sight, their outlines barely holding shape. I can feel them looking at me—patiently, knowingly. The taller one lifts its head. A faint hum begins, deep and rhythmic, threading through the fog like breath made of sound. The smaller ones answer in low, uneven tones. My heart races, keeping time with their chant.

I back away, groping for my phone, a flashlight—anything—but the mist has devoured all light. The words form, ghostly and familiar, drifting toward me on the wind:

“All Hallow’s Evening… welcome… join us…”

The tallest figure steps forward, its mask—or face—taking form. Hollow eyes burn like embers; its mouth doesn’t move, yet the chant continues. My knees weaken. I clutch the blanket tighter, but the fog feels heavier now, as though pressing me in place.

Then—barking. Sharp, sudden, real. A dog somewhere beyond the rose garden shatters the silence. The chant cuts off. The figures dissolve into mist. I blink, and the night seems ordinary again. Children’s laughter drifts from down the street. Porch lights flicker in familiar rhythm.

I exhale, trembling. Just fog, I tell myself. Just Halloween imagination.

Then I see them.

Three pumpkins on the grass, glowing faintly through the mist. They form a perfect triangle, their carved faces smiling—too perfect, too symmetrical. In their center sits a small black cauldron, scuffed and dented, filled with candy.

I kneel, cautious. Inside are the usual sweets—Twix bars, lollipops, Skittles—but also odd, hand-wrapped confections shaped like bones, moons, and leaves. As I stare, the hum returns, barely audible now, like breath on my neck.

A voice—soft, low, unearthly—seeps through the fog:

“Take only what you need… share what you have…”

And then the figures are back. Closer. Clearer. The tall one gestures toward the cauldron; the smaller two kneel beside it. Their garments shift—long coats and wide-brimmed hats, strange and old-fashioned, almost like gauchos from another world.

The tallest bends slightly, and one of the smaller figures lifts a Twix from the cauldron, placing it gently at my feet. The tall one bows, a motion both solemn and kind.

I kneel to pick up the candy. Warmth floods my hand—unexpected, almost human. The fog lightens, curling away toward the hills. The pumpkins dim. The chanting fades.

When the mist finally clears, only the Rose Garden remains—silent, ordinary, the cauldron still at the center of its triangle, glowing softly in the moonlight.

I whisper into the night, unsure who might hear,

“Thank you.”

And from somewhere beyond the roses, a faint voice answers,

“Until next All Hallow’s Eve.”

The Legend of Ghostly Gauchos
By Wendy Sanders

It’s dusk on Halloween near Old Mission Santa Barbara. Children dressed as witches and superheroes zoom around the Rose Garden laughing as nearby homes play “Monster Mash.” I lay out a blanket near the roses and wait for my friends to arrive when I notice a thick fog creeping up from the coastline, blanketing downtown Santa Barbara and moving fast toward the Mission. I watch as it gets closer, enveloping everything around it. The music and laughter stop—it’s completely silent as fog surrounds me. I check my phone; it’s dead, and I can’t see anything except for three dark figures in the distance.

At first, I think they might be my friends. “Hey! Over here!” I call, but my voice sounds swallowed by the fog. The figures move closer—slow, deliberate, until I can almost make out shapes. Wide-brimmed hats. Long ponchos that ripple like shadows. Spurs glinting faintly under the dim light.

Gauchos.

For a heartbeat, I laugh nervously. “Nice costumes,” I say, half to myself. But no one answers. Their outlines shimmer, like candlelight seen through water. The tallest one lifts an arm and points toward the Mission. The bells begin to toll—once, twice, then a long echo that vibrates through the air.

Something glows at the base of the steps—a black, bubbling cauldron.. I move toward it without really thinking, my sneakers swishing through the damp grass. The fog parts just enough to reveal an ancient iron cauldron, resting between the rose bushes. Inside, a swirling brew glows blue-white, and beside it sits a half-open Twix bar, partially unwrapped, one stick missing.

It feels absurd, this mix of candy and ghostly figures and what appears to be magic ritual. Before I can process it, I hear hooves. Not the sound of a modern horse, but the deep, rhythmic drumming of hooves on packed earth. I turn. The Gauchos are closer now, faces pale and serious beneath their hats. Their ponchos sway in a wind I can’t feel.

The tallest steps forward. His eyes are hollow, like empty wells. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, voice thick with an old Spanish accent. “This ground remembers.”

“I—I was just waiting for my friends,” I stammer.

He glances toward the cauldron. “We are waiting too.”

The second Gaucho kneels beside the boiling vessel, pulling from his poncho the missing half of the Twix bar. He drops it into the cauldron. The wrapper curls instantly, but the chocolate doesn’t melt—it just blackens, and turns to ash..

The third Gaucho, the smallest, turns to me. His poncho is vibrant, not brown like the others, and though the colors are faded, it gleams faintly through the fog. “Every year, we ride from the sea,” he says. “The fog carries us.”

“For what?” I whisper.

The Gaucho with the technicolor poncho kneels and traces a circle in the wet soil around the cauldron. “To finish what was supposed to be our legacy.” His voice trembles, almost human. “The night the Mission burned, we brought food for the children—a cauldron of milk, sugar, chocolate. Before we could reach the children, the earth opened beneath us and the Mission became an inferno. All perished.”

The cauldron’s contents suddenly flashed to gold, and in it I saw the chaos—horses rearing, smoke, children crying. Then the scene turned to mist.

The tallest Gaucho nods once, solemnly. “The offering is complete.” He placed a hand on my shoulder—it’s cold as marble—and for a second, I see through him: bone, woolen fringe, the shimmer of eternity.

The bell tolls twelve times. The fog begins to lift, slow as breath. I blink, and the Gauchos are gone. The cauldron is overturned, empty.

My phone buzzes to life in my hand. A frantic text.

Where are you? We’re by the fountain.

I stand, heart pounding, and notice something glinting beside the roses. A Twix bar, unwrapped, untouched. And tied to it with a thin strip of faded fabric—a scrap of technicolor poncho, smelling faintly of smoke and salt.

By Caitlan Dowling

“You guys? Is that you?” If this was my friends trying to scare me, I was not pleased. I had only agreed to attend on the promise of dinner. I turn to gather my blanket-

“Hola, amigo.”

I fall over backwards in fright – a gauchos is lounging on my blanket!

“Are you a ghost?!”

A horse whinnies in the fog out of site, and the – ghost? Chuckles.

“No tener importancia, tonight, I come to talk to you.” He pulls a Twix from his breast pocket.

“Why did you come to talk to me?”

“Twix?”

“No! Why are you here and where are my friends?!”

The ghost places the Twix in his mouth like a cigar, takes a drag, and says “Your friends are fine, it is you we are worried about. You seem to have forgotten the spirit of Halloween.”

“What?! I’m here, aren’t I?!”

“Ahh, but you aren’t truly here. You will see.” He stands up and starts to disappear.

“What do you mean?!” But I hear the sound of horse hoofs trotting away.

“Ok, this is crazy.” I grab my blanket and start walking.

“Hi!”

Once again I find myself on the ground, scared out of my wits as a small child in a superhero costume looks down.

“Oh, hi kid. Are you lost?”

“No, but you are!” And grabs my hand.

I blink and – “What?! Where are we?!”

The superhero smiles and points – “remember trick or treating here?”

“This is the street I grew up on! And, oh my god, is that me?” We watch kids running from house to house. “I was a penguin, that was my favorite costume!”

I’m back, clutching my blanket. Had that even happened?! I start walking, unsure if I’m going in the right direction the fog is so thick –

“Of course you’re going the right way!”

For the third time I fall to the ground and the witch cackles.

“What is going on?!”

“Haven’t you figured it out? I’m the Witch of Halloween present.” She grabs my hand and we dive into her cauldron.

“See down there?”

I see my friend’s house all lit up for Halloween, a group of trick or treaters rushing to their door.

“Trick or treat!” My friends open the door, exclaim how much they love everyone’s costume, and give out candy. I hear their voices echo – “we should head up to the rose garden for dinner! I’ll place the bowl of candy out for any more kids that come by!” “You know the first few will just take it all.” “Let them!”

“Ok! I get it! I used to love Halloween and now I’m an ‘old curmudgeon that complains about celebrating even when my friends do all the work! What are you going to show me next, myself old and yelling at kids to get off my lawn?!” The witch merely waves her hand and I’m being pulled into the cauldron on my own.

I fall down a fourth time- in my shower? Did I hit my head and this is all a dream? My thought is interrupted as I hear… myself? Signing to “Monster Mash!” I look out and see myself dressed… as half a couples costume?! I would never! I hear a knock and my costumed-self yells “coming dear,” turns off the bathroom light –

And I’m back on my blanket in the rose garden.

By Annette Magneheim

The fog is finally upon us and has now virtually engulfed us, it is so dense and thick, it’s almost like the thickest pea soup. Anderson’s, of course. Comes to mind. I can’t
even s e e my own hand I thought to myself. I found myself walking to the three figures in the distance. As I approached them I could hear old women spinning melodic
chanting close by through the rose garden hedge that was eerily sounding like a modern day gang of cult enthusiasts. These old pagans were stirring their wretched old
caldrons filled with a stench impossible to make out but odoriferous a s guts in a war zone. I dared to get closer. …when I stepped on some twigs or Twix that made a popping sound that stopped the witches in their tracks.

They turned abruptly and cried out ” Who’s t h e r e ? ” ‘, I froze in my tracks not wanting to breathe or move a muscle. For now I was totally scared shitless. I was ready to make a beeline for the car a n d burn s o m e rubber. There wasn’t anyone around me anymore. I was alone, but not entirely. There wasn’t any
children anywhere or any of the adults around. The whole Mission was deadly quiet except for the young priest working in the yard repairing the rickity old fence. Him and the old women chanting spells and stirring their caldron. They were weathered from theyears of being in the woods, exposed to the e l e m e n t s a n d w o r e t a t t e r e d c l o t h e s.

I made it to my car and stelthfully got in and drove out of there like a b a t out of hell. Passed some guys dresses a s gauchos by the EWS on my way going home. “There
must be a horse show coming soon”, I chuckled to myself. My phone started to ring.

“Ghost of Halloween”
By Fiona Weber (8th grade)

One of the three figures prances up to me and takes me by the hand, it drags me all the way to the 7-11. We walk in, there I am. My seven year old self is in the store buying candy to give out, I remember thinking that I was too old for Trick-or-Treating that year. I stayed at home and passed out treats to kids who were older than me. There was no candy in the store except for the bag of Twix I was buying.

I glance at the figure that took me here, it’s looking off at the younger version of me. “Look at you,” it says, its voice is kind, “You missed out on Trick-or-Treating because you thought you were too old.” I’m silent, “You were seven. You didn’t live life to the fullest. And you still aren’t now.”

“Take me home,” I manage to say through fear. It obeys. I find myself back at the rose garden. It floats back to the other two figures. I thought that they would leave me alone, but instead a different one swaggers over to me.

It yanks me up from off the floor and carries me to my school, UCSB. I’m a freshman at this school so I have no clue what this mysterious figure could show me from my past. I see the basketball team practicing and the coach screaming, “Go Gauchos!”

I look at the figure, “What are you?” I ask.

“I am the ghost of Halloween present.” This ghost seems arrogant. “Now look in that dorm room, everyone is partying, why aren’t you there? I know you were invited.”

“I’m just too old for parties and Halloween.”

“Most of these kids are seniors. You’re three years younger, but for some reason you’re too old.”

“Yes.”

“You’re too old to have fun?” The ghost asked. I knew it was a rhetorical question, but I still answered.

“Yes.”

“Do you see everyone there having fun,” I nodded. “Why aren’t you?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I want to go home, take me back.”

“Just a minute, watch,” I watched as they talked, laughed, and danced. The ghost grabbed me by the hand and took me back to the rose garden.

I sat down, knowing that the third figure would grasp me, I was right, it did. It threw me over its back and lifted me to the grave yard. I swallowed hard. I was terrified of what it could show me here. It pointed at a tomb with dead grass and plants surrounding it. Every other grave had flowers, but not this one. I read the epitaph, it said, ‘The kid who didn’t know how to have fun, hope you learn to live while you’re dead.’

I read my name on the tombstone, I started to cry, “Take me back,” I begged, “I promise I will try to have fun, I’m not too old to live.”

Obeyingly it took me back. The figures disappeared and my friends came. “Let’s dress up and go Trick-or-Treating!” They looked at me like I was crazy. I forced them to dress up with me. We went as witches with brooms and cauldrons; and for the first time in a long time, I had fun.

That Halloween I learned, you are never too old to have fun, enjoy life while you can.

By Peter McCarthy (7th grade‬)

It’s dusk on Halloween near Old Mission Santa Barbara. Children‬ dressed as witches and superheroes zoom around the Rose Garden‬ laughing as nearby homes play “Monster Mash.” I lay out a blanket near‬ the roses and wait for my friends to arrive when I notice a thick fog‬ creeping up from the coastline, blanketing downtown Santa Barbara and‬ moving fast towards the Mission. I watch as it gets closer, enveloping‬ everything around it. The music and laughter stop, it’s completely silent‭ as fog surrounds me.

I check my phone, it’s dead, and I can’t see‬‭ anything except for three dark figures in the distance.‬I drop my Twix bar and stagger back. Meanwhile, all the kids stop‬ laughing and their parents call out to them. A girl in a witch’s costume‬ drops her cauldron. A boy dressed as a gaucho starts screaming and‬ runs away. I plug my phone in with my portable charger and hope it can‭ get the battery to at least five percent to call for help. But the fog and the‬ figures inside grow closer, and eerie whispering starts calling out to us. I‬ look into the fog and see the figures have split up, each going after‬ different people. But one is staring at me.‬ I look around, panicking, trying to see if there is anywhere else I‬‭ could go. But there is nowhere to run, so I sprint back to the Mission.

“I‬ hope they won’t find me in here,”‬‭ I think‬‭ .‬‭ I run inside the chapel and hide‬‭ in the pews. For a few minutes it is silent. I can hear a mouse scurrying‬ around nearby. Then I hear heavy footsteps and that creepy whispering‬‭ starts again. The footsteps grow louder and closer.‬‭ They’re in a different‬ room,‬‭ I tell myself,‬‭ I’m safe.‬‭ Then at the worst possible time, my phone‬‭ rings – my dad!‬‭ My phone must have charged enough,‬‭ I‬‭ think. I hurry and‬ try to decline the call, but it is too late. It knows where I am hiding.‬

The door creaks open.‬‭ Ccrrreeeeaaak!‬‭ The fog rolls into the‬‭ chapel, covering the ground in a blanket of cold mist. Then a growl‬ emanates from inside. “‭Rrrrrrrrrrrrr‬‭ !” I hear footsteps coming closer,‬ closer, closer, and then…they stop. For a second I believe it went into a‬ different room. But then it moves ever so slightly and I turn to look at it. It‬‭ is a figure that looks…human, but it is made entirely of shadow and‬ partially covered in fog. It grabs me with its ice-cold hand and starts to‬ drag me into the fog . But my reflexes kick in. I turn my phone’s flashlight‬ on and aim it at the thing’s face. It shrieks and drops me and I run out‬ into the fog.‬

It’s so cold,‬‭ I think,‬‭ and dark.‬‭ The whispers are so loud here. As I‬ walk in the fog, I see a person crying and then suddenly disappear.‬ Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, I walk right into another‬‭ shadow figure! Like the other one in the chapel, it growls and tries to‬ grab me with its dark, icy cold hands. Somehow, I find my way out of the‬‭ fog and run to the old shed behind my uncle’s house, who lives nearby‬‭ the Mission. I sit down on the couch in the darkness and for a split‬‭ second, I think I am safe. But suddenly I hear the whispering again.‬ Ccrreeaakk‬‭ ! Heavy footsteps echo outside, coming closer and closer. I‬‭ take out my phone and check the battery. I still have 1% left. I turn the‬ flashlight on and aim it at the door straight at the figure outside. But the‬ phone suddenly turns off, and I’m left all alone in the darkness and fog‬ with it… End.‬

“The Hag”
By Sarah Wigle (6th grade)

My heart pounded as they approached. Each had a tall black pointy hat. The one in the middle held a staff of some kind; the one to the right carried a broom; and the one on the left seemed to be dragging something. The witches almost seemed to float.

The tallest witch lunged forward and ran at me, the one with the broom close behind. The farthest witch dropped the cauldron and began to run. I sprinted, trying to stay ahead.

I darted into a little shack, seeking cover—but they followed me in.

“We got you good,” said the witch in a familiar voice.

I laughed, “That thing with the fog was so elaborate, I can’t believe you pulled that off!”.

“That wasn’t us,” said Emma with a quiver in her voice.

The door slammed shut.

“We’re trapped,” shrieked Jane.

“Don’t be such a chicken, it’s probably just the wind,” taunted Lucy.

“Try it,” dared Jane.

Lucy tried to pry open the door but it wouldn’t even budge. A shrill cackle rose from the corner, there stood a hag.

“You didn’t think to question a hut you had never seen before, before entering?,” taunted the hag.

We stared, a cold shiver went down my back and I could feel goosebumps start to rise.

“Oh don’t you worry, I’ll let you free if you answer my riddle.”

“Wha-What is it?” Jane stuttered.

“From times of old and times of new, a person who thrives in a group. Here where the ocean flows, their legend lives on in stadium shows,”

The hag disappeared. We sat staring at the space where she had been. I let out a shaky breath. My hands trembled.

“So does anyone have a clue, because otherwise we are stuck here,” asked Lucy, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know but it’s my fault we are stuck in here,” I sighed.

“Don’t lose hope, we know they had teams and were here in the past and in a different way now,” Jane said as she paced.

“What is shown at stadiums?” Emma pondered.

“Sports, rodeos?”Lucy offered in a half asleep way.

“Cowboys and sports!” I answered.

“So the Gaucho’s?” Jane asked.

As she said that the door creaked open, and moonlight flooded in exposing the old furniture and cobwebs we had missed in the darkness. We ran back to the rose garden. I gasped for breath and began to laugh. “We’re out!” I screamed into the cold night air.

“Let’s go trick or treating, they are giving out King Size Twix bars around here!” cried Jane.

“NO!” we all shouted.

I was so done with Halloween after tonight. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and the screen flickered on, it was midnight. I called Mom to pick me up. As I waited I stared up into the night sky, a single shooting star winked at me as it flew by. I wished this Halloween would never happen again.

After that none of us ever saw that dusty old shack ever again.

“Siblings on Halloween”
By Sebastian Saldeña (6th grade)

Soon, they came closer slowly at first, kind of like a creepy walk then advanced to a sort of an awkward run. As they got closer I started to realize what they were: a Twix bar and two gauchos. They were singing the lines to a song that made the hair on the back of my neck rise. They ran past people. At first I thought they were after someone else but I realized they were after me.

Suddenly as they were about a yard away they passed me. I turned around and saw the Twix steal my cauldron of candy which was sitting a few feet away from me! “Hey” I yelled at them“that’s mine” but they kept running through the garden toward the mission. Dodging rose bushes and people, I ran through the road after them, luckily there were no cars.

After a bit before they were at the top of the mission steps they slowed down and sat there like nothing ever happened. They poured the candy out of the cauldron and dumped it on the floor. Then they started eating it right in front of me! I went red in the face. Slowly the Twix bar took off its mask to reveal the face of my little brother Ben. Then one by one the gauchos took off their masks revealing two of Ben’s friends: Jon and Alice.

If you could go redder in the face than a tomato, then I did. I savaged the rest of the candy which wasn’t much more than a few bite sized Snickers and a handful of Milky Ways. “It’s a beautiful night” I said looking up at the sky wondering where the fog had gone. “We should walk home,” I added. So we walked off into the night all the way home.

“Thriller Night”
By Owen Mosier (6th grade)

Bright lights flare out everywhere as bright as the sun. It looks like there was a witch carrying a cauldron filled with something, a gaucho with a bandana, and the scariest of all a pig! I yelled for my friend Finn, someone I’ve known forever. I saw him running over to me looking just like Posiden in his costume. The Michael Jackson Thriller song starts to play and then the three figures start dancing. They were starting to creep closer to me. “Um… Finn we might want to get running” I whispered to him, “I completely agree with you” he whispered back.

Me and Finn ran hard through the forest and didn’t stop until we could no longer hear the music, it took us around three minutes to get there. My mouth was dry and my throat hurt from panting. I could also smell the wood rotting and hear crickets chirping, it was peaceful after what happened. Then everything went quiet. “Finn!” I hissed, “I got a feeling that something’s about to happen but I don’t know what.” Out of nowhere the gaucho jumps out of a bush, the witch drops from a tree, and the pig sprints at an unreal speed.

“Henry, what should we do?” Finn asked. But I was frozen in place and speechless. When I recovered from it I yelled to Finn, “Start running now!” so we took off to the garden.

“Finn, I can see the garden, can you?” I yelled at him. I could hear him running a little bit behind me. “Henry, are you there!” Finn shouted in my direction, “Yeah I’m right here you don’t need to shout.” I replied. Then the most unbelievable thing happened, I tripped. “Come on you big klutz you knocked me down too.” And then the witch with a cauldron of candys, the gaucho with his bandana, and the pig descended on us.

“Yo, kids all right you took a big fall there.” the gaucho said. “Ya what happened there?” the witch asked. “We fell because of his clumsiness,” Finn said accusingly. “What… What happened.” I asked just fully grasping reality.

The pig told me that we fell and I hit a rock and no one actually got hurt. They were just actors doing a dance! Once we started to run they followed to make sure we were good. We walked back to the garden and some people asked us if we wanted Kit Kats, Twix, or Reese’s cups. We had a great Halloween after the dance and partied the whole night.

“The Cauldron of DOOM”
By Dean Parrott (6th grade)

A million thoughts go through my head. Sweat drips down my forehead. The three figures simultaneously crunch their legs as if they are about to jump. Force goes through their veins as they fly at me with screaming speed. I quickly react and duck their attacks. The clouds of dust surrounding them evaporate when they hit the wall of the mission.Moments after, I see a cauldron emitting a green beam of light. I sprint over to the mission to see that I am still being chased by the hooded figures. My throat gets dry out of fear. I open the doors to the mission quickly. The figures are still flying at me as the doors slowly close behind me as if something other than me were controlling them. I run through the mission through a Twix filled ground. I go through many flights of stairs until my muscles rip, and my body feels like it’s on its last legs. The entire mission seems to be candy themed and each level has a different candy.

Eventually, I find the cauldron that is emitting the green light. Milliseconds after I reach the top level of the mission, I also find the hooded figures! One floats erratically close, and I feel the phantom touch of these figures. Their forsaken faces strike fear into my soul. I make a last stand by lunging for the cauldron. The caldron falls and the toxic waste-like contents spill. The cauldron hits the floor, and the clouds disappear. The hooded figures and the fog vanish, and I see every corner of Santa Barbara: the mesa, the UCSB Gauchos campus, and the polo grounds of Montecito.

I see my friends trick-or-treating and parents pushing their kids from one house to another. I really just wish I would have hung out with my friend this Halloween. Now, I know how to appreciate Halloween, for I almost never had a Halloween again.

“A Night to Remember”
By Ella Erickson (6th grade)

Then, as I look around for all the kids that were just here, no one is there any more and the houses that were playing monster mash are gone. They come closer and the bitter taste of fear lingers in my mouth. I notice that the tree people all have something with them, one has a bubbling green cauldron, the other has a box of Twix and the last one had the UCSB mascot costume in its arms “odd?” I thought to myself. As they came closer and closer they don’t seem to see me at all. The wind seems to whisper to me. I stare at them until they are right in front of me. They still don’t see me “are they blind?” I wonder.

Suddenly, they are up in front of me. They don’t stop, they go straight through me and keep walking on.

“They must be ghosts!” I think out loud.

My hair on my arms stands up. I start to follow them up into the grass and trees up on the hill. The fog swallows me and the ghosts up as we walk. I can taste the air getting colder. I know the area we are in we are heading to the ruins by the Old Mission. I stay close behind the ghosts and duck and hide behind the sap smelling trees at the smallest noise.

After a little bit, we get to the ruins and I feel weird as we go in and close my eyes then after I open my eyes. We are in the same place but there are lots of ghosts. One comes up to me and says “Ella.” Then I look closer and see that it is my great grandpa.

“Who are these people and what are you doing here?” I ask.

“They are your ancestors, and this is the place to start over with your family when they pass.” he says

“So Erick the red is here! And his son Leaf too?” I say.

“Yes they are!” My great grandpa shows me around to meet all my ancestors. We all chat with every buddy we see. My Great grandpa introduces me to everyone as we go.

After what seemed like forever, my Great grandpa said“it’s time to go.” then more voices chime in and say “By Ella!” they all say. They come and hug me one by one. I have to admit that ghost hugs are weird. They go straight through you.There was an awkward silence. Erick the red handed me a necklace with a wolf on it.“ It will help you get to your friends.” Erick said.

I held the necklace up and a wolf came out. I hopped on and went though the barrier a shiver went down my spine. We ran through the woods and back to the rose garden. I had a lot of explaining to do about the wolf and that I am related to a great viking Erick the red. One thing for sure that was a night to remember.

“The Cauldrons Night”
By Kai Lynch (6th Grade)

I hear someone yelling something about a ghost. My friends are really late now. I find a rose and pick it off the stem and it turns black to white I throw it on the ground and gag “Eww.” Someone walks toward me. A white light shines in my eye, and I realize it’s one of my friends. She’s a little red riding hood and I’m the big bad wolf. We look at the flower and start walking away. I pull my candy bag out and she pulls out hers we trick or treat for an hour or two then we go back to the rose garden to trade.

The garden practically looked abandoned but it’s very vibrant and that helps the scariness go. The lights flicker on and spook me, but the roses are calming. We laugh and dump out our candy and look through it. We hear a crackle, the lights go out one by one, we hear the glass crash and explode. A flashlight turns on and shines in our eyes. A shiver goes down my spine; the light goes out. A big figure steps in front of us and another behind. I grab the closest candy a twix and throw it. They catch it turning the light on and a big guy wearing a gauchos mask looks us dead in the eye and laughs. “BOOOOOWHOO BABY!”

I try to yell but they take their masks off and it’s a bunch of high schoolers, the “Cauldrons” they called themselves this year. They found two or more kids out on Halloween and scared them. Just like how they did to us. I heard they got arrested for giving someone a heart attack. “The Cauldrons, that’s who we are, we recreate who our parents are,” the tallest guy said. “Riddle speaking really,” my friend said. Then I realized she planned this because she knew these people and asked them to scare us. I was shocked and too stunned to speak but then I stood up, grabbed my bag and say “Gosh all of you are scary even without the masks.” They all laughed and I smiled.

We all went trick or treating for a few more hours trying to find good houses to go to. So, we walked to my friend’s house and then mine. Then we went to the harbor and looked at the water. It was ice cold, so we didn’t go in. The wind blows and we run on the wet sand. My friend checks her phone.

Our friend Lena calls us and her voice blasts through the phone “Where are you guys? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” We answered, “You took forever to come, now we are at the beach.”

“Come on, someone is giving out prize boxes,” she says. We hung up and run to the garden when we got there. Someone was giving out prize boxes, and they were filled with candy, mini ducks, and gift cards and they wanted to get rid of them, so we got three each.

We were so happy and went home and fell asleep. The next morning, I woke up with a tummy ache and threw up and I’m never eating that much candy again. I look out the window and the fog is on the coast line.

The Halloween Prank
By Oliver Sanchez (6th grade)

As the figures creeped closer, I saw that they were wearing UCSB Gauchos costumes.The fog came closer as if it was targeting me and me only. It began to feel like the fog was suffocating me. I was wondering who they were, so I began rummaging around in my black candy cauldron for a flashlight, it was dead. The figures were now much closer so I began to pack up my blanket because I was pretty agitated, and started to walk away.

I looked back, and the figures had sped up and now they were practically chasing me. I had done a small amount of trick or treating on the way to Old Mission Santa Barbara and grabbed a Twix out of my cauldron, hoping I was just imagining the figures. But I wasn’t and they were now running after me. Now I was scared and started running. I ran towards a house and knocked on the door as hard as I could but no one answered. I was about to call 9-1-1. That’s when I felt someone touch my shoulder.

The fog parted, making way for the light. Before my eyes adjusted, I slowly turned around feeling mortified and…

“BOO!” yelled my friends in unison.

As it turns out this whole time I thought I was being chased, but it was just my friends pranking me! I screamed but as soon as I saw it was just my friends laughter filled the air.

“Got you!” said one of my friends and we all started laughing.

“You guys went through all of that just to scare me?” I said partially annoyed.

My friends looked at each other as if agreeing and said “Yeah.” Finally, after this very elaborate scheme, we ended up going trick or treating for only twenty minutes.

“The Shapes in Fog”
By Preslee Martinich (6th grade)

I started to pack up my things, trying to be as quiet as a mouse, so that the figures didn’t notice me. I looked back once, not quite sure if the figures were moving forwards, or backwards. I put on my backpack and started to walk home, making sure to keep an eye on the figures.

I looked away for a second, suddenly, I feel something grab my shoulder and pull me to the ground. I look back to the figures, still where they were. Confused, I pull myself up from the pavement and continue my journey home. I was almost home when I heard a voice say “I’m following you… I’m following you… I’m following you.” I looked around trying to find what had said that, but all I saw were the three figures.

The figures started to walk closer, one… step… at… a… time. Once they were close enough I could just barely make out their faces. One of their faces reminded me of my brothers. That’s when it hit me that it was my brother and his friends trying to scare me. I yelled at them, “I know it’s you brother, stop trying to scare me.” I waited for an answer, nothing. I yelled again but this time said, “Answer me already.” Instead of saying something normal like “we were just being funny”, he said, “Give me your Twix’s, I know you have it in your cauldron.”

I look into the caldron and I saw lots of gummies shaped like Gauchos, Kit Kats, Sour Patch Kids and one Twix bar sitting on top. “Why do you want it?” I asked. “I want it because they are my favorite candy,” he answered. “Okay, I’ll give it to you if you and your friends stop trying to scare me. Deal?” I asked. “Deal,” he said. I walked up to him, handed it to him and finally got to go home and sit in front of the TV.

“The Dream”
By Max Neel (6th grade)

I look behind me with nothing but fog, I look back and the figures are gone. I started to look around, no trace of anyone or anything. I put my backpack on, then suddenly I got pulled straight into the rose bushes in the garden. I hear an eerie laugh in the distance. I look behind me, but still nothing. I got out of the rose bushes confused and scraped all over. I start trying to get home. I then see the figures in the distance coming at me with insane speeds. When they got to me they were gone.

As I started walking in a random direction trying to get home, I accidentally walk into the mission and I felt an eerie chill run down my spine knowing something was wrong. A gate closed behind me and I had nowhere to go. I start walking forward when I look behind and see the three figures in the distance. I find a cauldron with a potion next to it, so I grab the potion and throw it at the figures. Before it even hit the ground, the figures were gone. I then heard a mysterious voice say “come with us… come with us.” Confused, I started to walk around again trying to get out of the mission.

I started to hear the laughter of a child, when suddenly, I get slapped right from what I thought was air. I start to look around for the figures. I then see the three figures running straight at me. I start to run away when I trip on a cauldron and right when I was about to faceplant, I woke up and banged my head right on the roof. Then, I remembered I was going to a Gaucho’s tennis game and the scary feeling was gone. I got out of bed and asked my mom for a Twix.

“The Haunted Mascot”
By Alexander Seidel (6th grade)

I walked closer I noticed that the three dark figures are the haunted mascots of the high schools, the Don, Royal, and the Charger. When I saw them I remembered that my dad had told me their story before and how they are controlled by a very powerful master. When I started walking forward the mascots turned and started walking down the block around the corner. When I started walking down the block and around the corner following them I noticed that the haunted mansion that everyone avoided was glowing green. I hesitantly walked towards the mansion and on the porch. When I nudged the door open I heard a mysterious sound coming
from up the stairs. When I built up the courage I walked up the stairs and down the hall to the door where the sound was coming from.

I opened the door and I saw the haunted Gaucho stirring Twix in his cauldron and the mascots were behind him. The haunted Gaucho was their master. I was looking at the mascots when I noticed that the Don had the same shoes as my friend and the Charger had the same birth mark as my brother on the same hand as him. I walked closer and surprised the mascots by taking the head of the charger off. I was in shock. Under the head was my brother. I was in shock, my body frozen. I stood there in shock. I unfroze and yelled at my brother then he said ” she Knows guys take off the costumes”. All the mascots took off their heads and it turned out that it was my whole family and my friend James.

When they finally had their heads off my dad yelled, “surprise you have been pranked.” When he finished I asked, “how did you do it?” My dad responded, “we rented this house and made the costumes from scratch. It took us 4 weeks.” Dad added that he started to plan this after they found out I would be going to the rose garden. Finally, the potion in the cauldron was made from twix, so we ate them and had a great halloween after all.

“Paralysis”
By Asher Burnette (6th grade)

Briskly, all three of the figures split up in their corresponding directions. The man on the right was short and chubby, wearing only ghostly rags and chains. The man on the left was tall and skinny, with a ghoulish and ripped prison uniform on. The middle figure was uncomfortably average in height, not to mention wearing a torn cloak and a ball and chain on his left ankle. The moment they disappeared into the thickening fog, I heard screams, left and right. At that moment I realized I was so focused on the left and right men, I hadn’t realized that the man in the middle was darting directly at me. He used his right hand to push me down by the shoulder. His fingers were long, but he had no nails. His skin looked like it was made of fog, so I guessed the others looked like that up close too. He used his other hand to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t make a sound. I tried to make out a face behind the hood. I wanted to scream. I was hot, and oddly, his cold hands felt good on my shoulder. As he lifted his hand away from my mouth, I heard the most torturous scream ever. And I realized who it was.

“Jamie!” I screamed. Was my sister being hurt? Then he whipped his hand back to my mouth so I wouldn’t speak anymore. This time his nails grew rapidly. And they started growing in my perioral region. Suddenly, a Twix bar came flying out of nowhere, slamming into his head. And the nails jabbed into my face were ripped away, where amounts of blood were darting out where each nail was. Out of the fog was a boy. He had to be about eight and he was dressed as a pirate. He jumped about five feet high over me to slash him. Afterwards,he started to walk away but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook this easily.

“Hey kid! Thank you,” I said “Please, how can I repay you? Thank you so much!” He froze in his tracks and looked back at me. Then he closed his eyes and gave me a warm and comforting smile and walked into the mist. I was going to invite him to our witches and wizards party where you can play games like bobbing for apples in a cauldron or trying to win a costume contest. I was astonished at what he had just done. But I shouldn’t have gotten that comfortable because the other two ghosts lunged at me from out of nowhere. I closed my eyes before they could hit me and realized they were calling me.

“Jason! Wake up Jason!” I heard my friends calling my name. I opened my eyes and there they were. Noah was on the smaller side, and he was a bit chubbier than usual. He was wearing an oversized UCSB gauchos uniform because that was his favorite college team. Liam was tall and skinny and dressed as a hockey player. Our theme this year was sports. I got up, said my hellos, and we went off to trick or treat. As we were leaving, I saw an eight year old boy entering the garden. Dressed as a pirate.

By Morrigan Duran (5th grade)

I frantically try to get away but the fog pushes me back. They get closer. I check my phone again but it’s still dead. It was at 50% before the fog appeared. I once again try to escape but no luck. Now the figures are visible. They are dressed as Gauchos. “Hello” one of them says. It sounds demonic but I know it’s fake. I try to say “Go away” but I’m so terrified my voice won’t work. The one on the left grabs my head. I can feel my eyes roll to the back of my head as I faint.

When I finally awaken, I see a cauldron bubbling and fizzing. The three original Gauchos are standing next to the cauldron. The one on the right is eating an extra large Twix bar. I look around and see lots of people tied up, arms and legs to their sides. They are slowly moving toward the cauldron on a conveyor belt. All at once, the first person reaches the cauldron. The three Gauchos lift the first person up into the air and drop him into the cauldron. A strange mixture splashed out onto the ground with a disgusting plop. It dissolved into the ground leaving no odor behind. A deformed figure slowly crawled out of the cauldron. It collapsed onto the ground. Then, a thin layer of goop slides off the figure revealing a Gaucho hunched oner on the ground. He stood up and walked over to a door in the corner of the room that I hadn’t even noticed until now.

This happened several more times. I started noticing people that I know; my cousin, my sister and my girlfriend. Finally, it was my turn to be dropped into the cauldron. As I was heading to the cauldron, I managed to get my right hand free but my left hand was still tied. Then I realized that the Gaucho on my right had gotten out another Twix; like the last one it was extra large. Then, they lifted me up. The Gaucho with the Twix unwisely refused to set it down. As they prepared to drop me, I gently grabbed the Twix bar. Finally as I fell, the last stage of my plan came into action. I gripped that bar of candy like it was my entire life force. Then, I hurled it into the cauldron.

B O O M ! ! ! !

The cauldron exploded into smoke and flames. All of the Gauchos turned into dust. One of the Gauchos came running through the door into the room. The second it touched the smoke, it turned into mist as well. I couldn’t see a thing. Then I woke up.

I was jolted awake by my friend shaking my shoulder. It was Jake. Around me were all my best friends; David, Michael, Nick and Jake.
“What. What” I stuttered.
“Dude, chill,” Jake said. “It was just a prank.” Jake explained the prank. Then I noticed that Jake, David, Michael and Nick were all dressed as Gauchos.
“So it was you?” I asked.
“Yeah” said David. I felt anger boiling in my chest.
“How did you make the fog and the music stop?” I demanded.
“Smoke machine and sound barriers” said Nick.
“Pretty good trick” I said, finally seeing the humor in the situation.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t funny when you fainted.”

“Halloween Night”
by Makaniola Gillis (6th grade)

Moments later, everybody disappears, and it’s just me. I walk to get a closer look at the figures, but I can only see dark shadows. The figures all have cowboy hats on, kind of like the UCSB Gaucho’s mascot. I thought of getting closer, but I have a bad feeling in my stomach. I start to walk the other way trying to think good thoughts.

All of the sudden I hear footsteps coming closer and closer. So I start sprinting as fast as I can. “Oh no” I groan. Now I feel like I’m going to puke. I should’ve listened to my dad and not eaten all the Twix out of the toy cauldron. I’m not giving up, so I keep running and running just to find myself stuck in the most thorny rose bush ever.

After what felt like a million years getting out of the roses, I started to quietly make my way to the mission stair steps. I think I lost the three scary figures by now. I finally make it to the mission, take a break, and look at my surroundings. While turning around I see the figures! “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I scream. I screamed so loud people could probably hear it in Ventura.

One of the figures starts laughing, and then all three of them start to laugh! “What’s happening!” I yell in fear. They reveal themselves. “Holy moly!” It’s Jim, Bob, and Jerry! “Yeah. Who did you think we were?” Bob said. “I’ll tell you about it later.” I repeat in relief. “Let’s go trick or treating.” I say. We all ended the night with full bags of candy.

“Mission Ghosts”
By Eliza Leonardi (6th grade)

I ran to the mission doors banging with all of my force. But the mission that was just filled with kids purely running off of Twixes and Haribo gummy bears, now seemed eerily empty. The figures came up behind me and with nowhere to run, I braced myself for whatever horrors were coming. The figure standing closest to me reached out and grabbed my arm. Suddenly, it flipped its hood back and the monster’s face I was awaiting looked identical to my best friend Alexa. My heartbeat dropped to a slow rhythm as the other figures revealed they were Saddie and Jemma, both friends from my school.

“Surprise!” They shouted, and started giggling amongst themselves.

We sat on the steps of the mission as they told me how they had decided to prank me. When there was a moment of silence between us, I looked up at the sky and my stomach lurched.

“What about the fog, and how did you get all of the people to leave?” I asked them.

We all looked to the deserted street and an icy feeling consumed me. Something inside me knew they felt it too. The church bells rang, twelve chimes. Saddie checked her watch which read 10:43 PM.

The church bells rang again, eleven chimes. We ran. The fog was even thicker now, all I could see was my feet as I kicked a plastic cauldron from my path. Running into the mission through a side door, I heard 10 chimes.

“Sadie, Alexa!” I shouted, but it seemed as if the fog was suffocating my words.

I ran past the bell tower, and the rope pulling the bell seemed to me moving all on its own. I took the cowboy hat I was wearing because my family was dressed as Gauchos, and threw it in the bells direction. The rope stopped swinging as I ran to the stairwell. While I climbed the wooden stairwell, salty tears filled my mouth as I saw what was awaiting for me at the top. The bells rang one last time, more powerful than before. A shadow rose from the altar and I scanned the room, but there was no one else around.

“You have awakened the spirits of those who have died in this very mission,” a deep voice boomed.

All around me, ghosts of Chumash Native Americans, Spanish soldiers and settlers, Fransiscan friars, priests and pastors rose into the air whispering and hissing. Their cold hands grabbing at my clothes. I ran to every exit, but the doors were bolted shut. Screaming for my friends, I did the only logical thing I could think of. I jumped out of the window. All I could see was shattered glass as the world around me faded into darkness.

I woke up on my couch next to Sadie, Jemma, and Alexa. There were church bells ringing in my ears as the events of last night came flooding back to me. The four of us tried to convince my mom we were telling the truth about what happened, but her response was that we had eaten too much candy. Though she had nothing to say when I turned on the news and the top headline read, Broken Window At Mission Santa Barbara On Halloween Night.

“The Creatures of the Night”
By Vivienne Christoff (6th grade)

I am sprinting as fast as I can from the strange figures, but they still seem the exact same distance from me. It’s almost as if they’re moving with me. Suddenly I stop. I realize that I left my little sister alone with the mysterious figures. My parents will kill me if I don’t bring her back! I see her slowly drifting out of sight with them. I am screaming at the top of my lungs, “Leave her alone!”

I hear a voice coming from the figure in the middle, “I will only give her back if you give me something that you love.” I don’t know what I am going to sacrifice, but I do know that I love my sister, Maya, more than anything. I blink and Maya is gone, along with the three figures.

I’m running back to my house screaming. I am at my house, and I start rummaging through everything I have. Under my bed I find a note that tells me to check the attic. I am rushing up there. All I see is a rotten Twix bar and a bunch of boxes. I am quickly searching in all of the boxes. I am opening one, and there is an old cauldron used by my dead grandmother.

I loved her so much, and we used to make potions in it, so it means a lot to me. Is this what I have to give up? I bring it down to my room and put on my UCSB Gauchos sweatshirt because it is so cold. I am placing the cauldron down on the floor in my room.

I’m reading my spell book and looking for anything that might work. I see a spell called “Abera Lerlix.” It says that it is the spell for trade. I am shouting, “Abera Lerlix,” over and over again.

All I want is my sister back. I have such a good bond with her, and she is my best friend. I’ve been shouting the same spell for what’s felt like hours. I wonder if this will even work. Suddenly, I look up and see that the cauldron is gone, and in its place is my amazing sister. We are hugging, and I couldn’t be happier.

“The Scary Day on Mission Road”
By Benjamin Flores (6th grade)

The first figure has a tall hat and in its right hand is holding a cauldron with bottles sticking out. The second figure looks like a candy bar or a figure that is tall. The third character looks like a man with a mustache and looks kind of buff. When I see them they call out my name “BENJI”. In my head I was thinking how did they know my name without seeing me. As soon as they say my name I begin running and running until I can’t breathe. I am pretty sure I lost them because I can’t see them anymore.

Then out of nowhere the three figures came out of the fog again and then they called my name again to me “BENJI”. I can start to see them get closer to me and then one of the figures taps me on the shoulder. I turn around scared for my life expecting the worst like a stranger chasing me.

When I turn around I can see that it was my three friends in the costumes that I had been running from. Sebastian was a wizard holding a cauldron with a wand and what he said was brewing potions but they were just water bottles with food coloring in it. Ben was a Twix candy bar holding Twix in his right hand, and Graham was the Gaucho mascot because he liked watching the Gaucho’s play basketball.

Not too long after, the fog disappeared and it is now sunny again. We run and play around the mission until it is dark and then we go trick-or-treating. We all have so many king size candy bars after trick-or-treating for three hours. Next time before I start running for my life again I should call out to see if it’s anyone I know.

“The Spooky Visit”
By Elizabeth Follett (6th grade)

It’s dusk on Halloween near Old Mission Santa Barbara. Children dressed as witches and superheroes zoom around the Rose Garden, laughing, as nearby homes play “Monster Mash.” I lay out a blanket near the roses and wait for my friends to arrive when I notice a thick fog creeping up from the coastline, blanketing downtown Santa Barbara and moving fast towards the Mission. I watch as it gets closer, enveloping everything around it. The music and laughter stop, it’s completely silent as fog surrounds me. I check my phone, it’s dead, and I can’t see anything except for three dark figures in the distance.

As the figures start getting closer, I run and see a frozen witch wearing a UCSB Gauchos t- shirt, with a spoon mid-stir in her cauldron. There is a frozen kid mid-bite in a Twix bar next to her. But the approaching figures are too fast, and they quickly catch up to me.

“Why are you running from your family?” one of them asks.

“I don’t have a family,” I tell them. They all died in a fire 10 years ago. I know this is true because I have the burn scars to prove it, and no one, except my new family, knows I am adopted.

“I know,” said the shortest figure. “The barrier between the dead and the living gets weaker and some ghosts can slip through on Halloween.”

“So, you’re my family?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yes,” one of them says. I start ugly crying. “But, we have to leave at midnight,” one of them says and, as if on cue, the bells start ringing, and they disappear. I am left crying, all alone, in the dark.

After a while, the fog goes away, and I hear my friends calling my name. ”Hey, Eliana! Why are you crying?” they ask. “Are you ok?”

“I’m okay now,” I say. “Let’s go trick or treating!”

“The Halloween Story”
By Cooper Pasternak (6th grade)

As the three figures draw closer, I feel goosebumps on my skin. It is getting colder and foggier, so I reach down and grab my jacket. When I come up, the three figures are gone. A few minutes pass, and nothing happens. Then I feel a big cold hand on my shoulder, so I turn around and see my friends dressed in their costumes. But they all look a bit off. Like Dean’s hair looks longer, Fletcher doesn’t have his braces, and Makani looks taller.

I say, “Hi guys! Ready to trick-or-treat?”

“Yeah!” They all say in unison.

“I hope we get some Twix,” Dean says excitedly.

I pick up my blanket and head to the area where we usually trick-or-treat. As we keep walking towards the San Roque neighborhood, I keep noticing odd things about them like they are all swaying back and forth as they walk like they are almost off balance. Whenever my friends or I make a joke, instead of laughing, they say, “Ho,ho, ho!”
At one of the houses they have a cauldron full of full sized candy bars like Butterfingers, Twix, and Kit Kat. As we are leaving, Fletcher says to the people at the house, in a jolly voice, “Merry Halloween.”

I think that’s really weird because I have never heard anybody in my entire life say, “Merry” Halloween. I am about to ask what’s going on, but we get to a house with someone that is being paid to scare people, and when we get close to that person, they lunge out and yell, “Boo!”

I am pretty surprised, but my friends are even more surprised, and they fall down. When I reach down to help them up, I don’t see anything except their costumes laying on the ground. Out of nowhere, out jump several small elves from each costume. Then they start running away, but I grab one of them.

I ask the little elf, “ What the heck is going on?”

The elf replies, “We only have Christmas all year long, and we want to see what Halloween is like too. That’s why we all dressed up as your friends, so we could have the Halloween experience.”

I put him down to ask him, “What’s Santa’s phone number?”

The elf reluctantly tells me that it is 122567, and he dials the number on his elf phone. The elf hands me the phone, so I can talk directly to Santa Claus. I tell Santa that he needs to come to Santa Barbara and grab his elves.

Santa arrives forty-five minutes later, and he says to me, “Thanks for calling. If you didn’t, there might have been no Christmas.”

As he flies away on his sleigh, he says “Merry Halloween to all. And go Gauchos!”

“It’s Just a Dream”
By Meadow Heaton (6th grade)

It’s dusk on Halloween near Old Mission Santa Barbara. Children dressed as witches and superheroes zoom around the Rose Garden laughing as nearby homes play “Monster Mash.” I lay out a blanket near the roses and wait for my friends to arrive when I notice a thick fog creeping up from the coastline, blanketing downtown Santa Barbara and moving fast towards the Mission. I watch as it gets closer, enveloping everything around it. The music and laughter stop. It’s completely silent as fog surrounds me. I check my phone, it’s dead, and I can’t see anything except for three dark figures in the distance.

The fog grows thicker fast. Pretty soon my arms are sticky and I can’t see anything; Like I am in my own universe but not in a good way. I want to scream but the figures were so close to me that I am sure if I make a noise they will hear me. The fog gets thicker still and now I can’t even see three feet in front of me, and it is so quiet. Then I hear it, really quiet but it gets louder. My name. Being called.

“Violet”, “Violet”, “I see you!” Three different voices breaking the silence, each one equally terrifying.

The figures start coming into view again. They must be close. I start backing up, then I see it. The outline of witches. Three witches cackling and carrying cauldrons. I never believed that any of this stuff was real but here I am pushed up against a bush terrified for the life of me.

I try to stand strong and tell myself it will be ok but I slide to the floor instead. I push up hard to the bush and pull my knees tight to my body, until I can hardly breath. I put my head in my knees, so I can look small. I can hear footsteps, I hold my breath and pray that the witches just want the half-eaten Twix bar in my pocket. Then I feel a hand grab my shoulder.

“Violet”, “VIOLET!” I hear from above me.

My eyes shoot open and I sit up straight. I am back on the blanket, a tiny bit of sun poking out from the horizon. I look up and my two best friends stand over me.

“Did we really take so long that you fell asleep?”, asked my friend Molly.

“What, no you didn’t take long but the fog and the witches and…?”

Molly cut me off: “Vi, what are you talking about? There is no fog and the only witches here are those little girls in their costumes.”

She is right, the fog was gone and there were no witches.

“If we did take so long it was because Molly’s dad had to finish watching the Gauchos game before we came.” My other friend Elli said

“It did not take that long.” Molly exclaimed. “Well anyway let’s go trick or treating. That is what we were here for right?”

“Ya I guess you’re right” We all said laughing.

“The Night Everything Goes Wrong”
By Stella Luchini (6th grade)

I stand up from the grass already dizzy from the fog. The three figures look strong and tall. Not a moment later I start running, I run across the road and bang on the doors of the Mission with all my might, but there was no response. Without looking back I start running faster and faster, knocking on every door I see. I look back a little too fast and stumble over to a lawn. Luckily the figures didn’t follow me. I go to the only house left on the street and knock with the last of my energy. I can hear an eerie sound coming from the house. I look around and there’s a plastic cauldron full of Twix and lots of other candy. I look back at the door and the three figures are standing there. They take one step forward and everything goes black.

I wake up and I can hear the sound of a car’s engine. I peer over the back seats and see the figure draped in dark robes. I start looking around the trunk, I see a Gauchos hat and a thin piece of metal. I can feel the car come to a stop. I grab the piece of metal, break the trunk open and run out. My legs carry me back to the mission and now that the fog has cleared I can see my friends. I tell them the story but they just laugh and tell me it was a good halloween story. We go to all of the houses on the street and get lots of candy. We all say farewell and go home. When I reach my front door I can hear people talking inside but no lights are on inside. I knocked on the door, but there was no response, so I knocked again, but there was still no response. I open the door and three figures are standing there looking tall and strong.

The one in the middle was holding a thin piece of metal and looking straight at me. A dark flame burned in the back of their eyes, shining like diamonds in the light. The figure in the middle started to come closer to me but this time I didn’t run. It was like I was stuck to the ground with glue, not able to move any part of my body. The figures started to take off their robes. It was then in that moment who I realized who I was running from, it was my step sister and her two best friends. I ran up to her and jumped into her arms still in shock about how she pulled this off. She whispered in my ear “I got you good this year. I wish you could have seen your face.” I laugh quietly and smile. “I’m just happy I didn’t die,” I say. We all share a moment of silence and then go inside for a good night’s worth of sleep.

“3 Figures on Halloween Night”
By Maddy Goldsmith (6th grade)

It’s dusk on Halloween near Old Mission Santa Barbara. Children dressed as witches and superheroes zoom around the Rose Garden laughing and as nearby homes play “Monster Mash.” I lay out a blanket near the roses and wait for my friends to arrive when I notice a thick fog creeping up from the coastline, blanketing downtown Santa Barbara and moving fast towards the Mission. I watch as it gets closer, enveloping everything around it. The music and laughter stop, it’s completely silent as fog surrounds me. I check my phone, it’s dead, and I can’t see anything except for three dark figures in the distance. As I started to panic I heard familiar voices in the distance, it was my friends! When I started to walk over to them I heard the laughter and music start again. I was so relieved but when I started to tell them everything, they told me how there was no fog or figures and that I was just imagining things but it all just felt too real to be fake. We walked away from the site and trying to forget what happened, we started trick or treating. First house of the night, nothing but a few Twix bars (I hate chocolate.) Then, I saw it again, the 3 figures slowly inching towards me. When I snapped out of it, not wanting to seem like a baby, I kept going. When we got back to UCSB, we were greeted by a Gaucho and lots of Halloween decorations, mainly cauldrons which I got this weird feeling from. When we got inside I heard 3 knocks. Knock Knock Knock. I looked out the window and screamed. I quickly made a bolt for the door sprinting as fast as I could down the hallway. Things went silent, I turned around and saw the 3 figures again. When I got outside I ran to my car and sped up the hill to Francheskie Park and waited for the sun to rise. It was about to become sunrise when the figures came, I ran down the hill and just as I had thought the sun rose. The 3 figures disappeared. I survived Halloween night! But this leads me to wonder… what will happen next Halloween?

— Original Post —

The spooky season is upon us and we’re back with our annual Halloween Story Writing Contest. Creative edhatters from Santa Barbara County and beyond continue to amaze us with their innovative and eerie imaginations.

Whether you’re a longtime submitter or a first-time writer, we encourage you all to dust off that fountain pen, grab a sheet of parchment, and start writing. Plus, we have a great gift card in store for the winner! As usual, we’ve given you a head start.

HERE ARE THE RULES:

This contest is open to everyone, students included! One story per person, please.

Entries can be no longer than 665 words (including the provided beginning), should be suitable for all ages (PG content, please), must include the opening we provided at the bottom of this page, and contain the following three words or phrases:

Cauldron
Twix
Gauchos

Your story can be scary, funny or something in between. All entries will be judged by an esteemed panel based on the following criteria:

Word count (665 words or less)
Inclusion of the required beginning and words/phrases (see below)
If the judges like it

Send your entry to info@edhat.com by Midnight, 10-26-25. Enter “Halloween Writing Contest” in the subject line. Please include your name, and if you’re a student include your grade.

The winner will be announced and the winning story posted on Thursday, 10-30-25. Honorable Mention stories will also be posted. Ed will decide any ties.

PRIZE: The winner will win a gift card to Handlebar Coffee Company.

STORY PROMPT

Here’s the beginning of the story…good luck!

The Winner!

2025 Edhat Winning Halloween Story

“Minutes from the Marine Layer” By Jess Williams

Honorable Mentions

By Paulina Conn

By Anthony Catalano

“Visionary Halloween” By Jolinda Pizziraini

By Lisa Piltz

By Thomas Smith

The Legend of Ghostly Gauchos By Wendy Sanders

By Caitlan Dowling

By Annette Magneheim

“Ghost of Halloween” By Fiona Weber (8th grade)

By Peter McCarthy (7th grade‬)

“The Hag” By Sarah Wigle (6th grade)

“Siblings on Halloween” By Sebastian Saldeña (6th grade)

“Thriller Night” By Owen Mosier (6th grade)

“The Cauldron of DOOM” By Dean Parrott (6th grade)

“A Night to Remember” By Ella Erickson (6th grade)

“The Cauldrons Night” By Kai Lynch (6th Grade)

“The Shapes in Fog” By Preslee Martinich (6th grade)

“The Haunted Mascot” By Alexander Seidel (6th grade)

“Paralysis” By Asher Burnette (6th grade)