There was once a man, wealth and fame following his footsteps. Wealth followed for his work, and fame followed due to his prosperity and kindness. His hospitality to his guests had made him famous; he was generous with his wealth, and did all he could to make others happy.

On the eve of the night when the ghosts and phantoms rise, and the dead walk from their graves, he saw children unafraid from the apparitions haunting the night, and walked among them for their sweets and pranks they loved so much.

But the neighbors were superstitious, and refused to open their doors to the children. The children were dismayed, as the man felt his heart pity them. “Help them.” His heart said. And the kind man decided to help them.

On the New Year’s Eve, he had bought a large portion of land from the Magi of the tribe nearby. The Magi did, in fact, own the land, but only for his long-gone tribe. The old Magi had decided to sell it to rid of his burden of the memories that has long gone.

“But, pray, good sir.” The Magi asked. “It may be rude to pry into your business, but what do you plan to do with the land?”

The man replied heartily, “I shall build upon this ground the greatest, the merriest, and the most stupendous fairground the world has ever seen.”

Even as the Magi warned him about the grounds being haunted by the ghosts and evil beings of the ancients, the man had ignored the warnings, for he was a cheerful man with no fear, and had not believed in the superstitions of the dead. As the year passed on, slowly, as the spring turned to summer and summer to fall, the fairground came to be built. The process was quick, and efficient, for on the eve of the Halloween night, which the man had intended for it to be open, the fairground was finished.

And how the beautiful the fairground was on the indigo sky of the night. The fairground blazed with colors of orange and purple, full of rides, tents, Ferris wheel, and every possible sweet gathered all across the land. The lights had made the surroundings look like it was morning, or as if the brightest stars had been dragged down to the earth from the sky, making everything seem like candy corns. The rides seemed like pumpkins, and horrors of the eve of Halloween seemed to fade away.

Children had gathered upon the gate of the fairground, dressed as beasts, fairies, and beauties of the fairyland. The sight was so beautiful that the people in town opened their locked doors that night to join them. Thousands had gathered that day, from miles away to be in the fairground of the kind man.

“Thank you for joining us on this cold and creepy evening.” The man said. “But tonight is going to be different. Tonight, we shall feast upon the sweet from across the world, and spend our night laughing and screaming with delight.” And with that, he cut the orange ribbon, laced with pumpkin patterns, with a silver scissor.

However, as the night went on, no one had noticed, among the many guised men, women, and children, a black cloaked figure had slipped into the fairground, through the black gate of the fairgrounds.

One by one, people began to leave, for the night was still young, it was slowly getting old. As the midnight approached, the rich man came upon the stage of the fairground, in the middle of the fair, as a scarecrow, with the orange scarf proud on his neck, and the silver scissor still in his hands. “Let this day be honored on the opening.” He said, making a speech. “Tonight, we shall feast until dawn. Those who are tired may retreat to their homes, for I do not wish them to have headaches. But those who aren’t, let us enjoy ourselves longer, for it is the day of the opening, and it is such a special occasion.”

And so, many stayed that night, in the fairground, happily and merrily. But as the midnight struck, the gate creaked close by some unseen force. The mist rolled into the fairgrounds. The screams of delight turned into the shrieks of horror when they found some wearing masks had not been wearing them. The thick fog enveloped the fairground as the horror continued, and the fear and anguish devoured the hearts of both young and old. By dawn, the fog had rolled away from the fairground. Nothing was left, save for few tattered bits of purple and orange fabric, few candy corns lying about, and the proud orange scarf and the silver scissors of the kind rich man.

Every Halloween night, a fairground appears with the laughing inhabitants that resided in the fairground. No one knows where, or when are they from. But they all disappear on the next day, along with the fairground itself. The scarecrow lurks there, carrying the silver scissor, and underneath the old burlap sack sewed with strings and hay, the holes where eyes should be twinkle in blue light as the kind rich man had once did. If you come across it, enjoy yourself, have a candy corn or two. Have sweets all across the land, and fun which can never be seen across the world. But remember to leave by midnight, for the Haunted Fairground of Sheldor hunts for another prey.