On a shadowy Halloween night, the children timidly approach a dilapidated house. The yard is a tangled mess of dead plants and broken ornaments, with jack-o'-lanterns flickering faintly in the distance. Their breath catches as the door slowly creaks open, revealing a terrifying figure—a hunched, ancient woman. Her eyes are sunken, like dark hollows that glint eerily in the candlelight. Long, bony fingers curl around the doorframe, her cracked lips pulling into a chilling grin that exposes crooked, yellowed teeth. Her skin, paper-thin and ghostly pale, clings to her skeletal frame, veins pulsing faintly beneath the surface. Her voice is a raspy whisper, but it cuts through the night like a cold breeze: 'Come in, little ones... I've been waiting for you.' Her presence is overwhelming, filling the air with dread as she gestures with a twisted hand, inviting them inside. The children glance at each other in panic, but the temptation of candy forces them forward, their feet moving despite their terror. The interior is dimly lit by flickering candles, casting strange, distorted shadows along the walls, but it's the woman’s gaze, unblinking and predatory, that truly freezes their hearts. One of the children, trembling but driven by bravery or perhaps foolishness, steps forward first, unable to break away from her haunting stare. Behind them, the wind howls as if warning them to turn back, but the woman’s presence draws them in like a trap closing