Creepy - Day 11 - The Jack 'O' Lantern Men & Explosive Temper

Episode Date: October 11, 2024

The Jack 'O' Lantern Men***Written by: The Vesper's Bell***https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Jack-O-Lantern_Men_of_Willow_Wood_Hill***Content is available under CC BY-SA***Explosive Temper***Written by: R.G. Halstead and Narrated by: Michelle Kane***Support the show at patreon.com/creepypod***Sound design by: Pacific Obadiah***Title music by: Alex Aldea Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

No. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. It's midnight, it's October, and that means KREP is on the air and ready to guide you through this most magical time of year.

It's day 11 of the 31 days of horror. A time of cool winds, rotten leaves, costumes and pumpkins. And bailed the king of the trillion of the success of it. Look and save mankind. Listen to KREP. and I'm your host, The Creep. First up is a message from a listener who had a run-in with something he calls, the Jackal-Lantern Man.

Picturesquare-old little housing development overlooking the Avalon River, just a short drive away from Sombremory. It's surrounded by enough woods to muffle out the sounds of traffic on the adjacent highway, and the road leading into the neighborhood is so discreet that delivery drivers regularly have trouble finding it. It always felt safe to me. secluded, an isolated little bubble that the rest of the world seemingly couldn't find even if they wanted to. But that changed on October 1st. It was a gorgeous, crisp fall day.

The leaves on the giant maples and oaks that surrounded our neighborhood were just starting to change colors. And I had gone out to get my mail from our pair of community mailboxes, the newer ones with the windblown maple leaves and blazoned on the side. As I stepped out, however, I noticed that there was a small, impromptu gathering of my neighbors on Mr. Kukowski's front lawn, fawning over something that I couldn't quite make out. Whatever the commotion was about, I figured it was probably worth the lane getting my junk mail for a few minutes. So I casually walked over to inspect the spectacle for myself. When my neighbors saw me approaching, they politely moved aside so that I could get a clear view of whatever it was,

had them so enamored. It was a jackal lantern man. A snowman made out of jackal lanterns. There were three hollowed-out pumpkins stacked on top of each other, and together they stood about five feet high. The top pumpkin had been carved with a fairly stereotypical jackalantron face, but the bottom two had been carved so that they looked like the figure had been dressed in a 19th century suit. Is that real?

I asked incredulously. Well, it was obviously completely possible for it to be real. It seemed far more likely that it was some sort of mass-produced plastic Halloween decoration. It's absolutely real, Mr. Lecombe. The preteen girl, Lorland, Isley assured me excitedly. Her eyes shining like it was Christmas morning. She stuck her finger inside the Jacqueline's mouth, ran it along the inside, and pulled it out to reveal still fresh seeds and pulp. See? I stepped closer and tentatively poked the fleshy fruit of each of the three pumpkins.

They looked real, felt real, and smelt real. And thus, I could only conclude that they were, in fact, real. These are remarkably intricate carvings, I muttered as I ran my hand along the middle pumpkin. I glanced up towards the elderly Mr. Kukowsky, who looked like it was taking everything, He had not to yell at us to get off his damn lawn. You didn't make this, did you? What do you think? He asked, holding up his clearly arthritic hands. No, the damn thing was here when the sun came up.

Someone must have dropped it off in the night. Very peculiar. My gut reaction was that it was a prank of some kind. But the things do beautiful for that to make any kind of sense. And no one else saw anything? I asked, turning around to face the rest of the neighbors, all of whom shook their heads. I'll look over my security footage later, but I don't think it'll have a very clear view of Kakowsky's place at night. Heidi, Laurelind's mom offered as she used a wet one to clean Loyalans' hands.

I'll send out some emails and put a notice on the bulletin board asking about it, but I'm sure it's just a surprise Halloween decoration. If it is, it was poorly thought out. "'Tink'll be a pile of mush by Halloween,' Kukowski said with a shake of his head, "'given the pile of pumpkins a disdainful whack with his cane before turning to go back inside his house. "'You damn well better find who's responsible this before then, because I'm not cleaning it up.' "'Wait, Mr. Kikowski. I want to get a picture with a Jacqueline or man while we're all out here together,' Laurelain pleaded, excitedly waving her phone in the air.

Kikowsky stopped in his tracks, hung his head, and let out a theatrically reluctant sigh before turning around and joining the rest of us for a group photo. Laurelum posted the pictures she took of the Jackalantron Man on her Instagram, and I decided to run a reverse image search to see if I could gain any insight about who had made it. The results were unexpected. I thought I'd get results for a local craftsperson or something, but instead, the algorithm matched with a picture on Harrowickhallows.net, a local paranormal discussion forum.

The picture was a black and white illustration from an old newspaper article, maybe as far back is the 19th century, depicting a much more monstrous and ferocious-looking jack-lantern man. According to the poster, the jack-o-lantern man started inexplicably appearing in a nearby, though suspiciously nameless, hamlet on October 1st. There were exactly 30 homes in the hamlet, and each day until Halloween a new jackalanched man would arrive in the wee hours of the morning, with no one ever seeing where to come from. That detail unsettled me a little, since our housing development had exactly 30 homes. Anyway, all manner of misfortune started to befall the sleepy hamlet,

and the increasingly paranoid villagers blamed the orange interlopers. They tried destroying or moving them, of course, but each morning they'd be back like nothing had ever happened. Some of the villagers, children at first, but later some adults, claimed to have seen the jackal-lantern men moving around at night, wreaking as much havoc and destruction as they could without get caught. Naturally, the villagers' hysteria grew stronger the closer got to Halloween, fearing some sort of inevitable climax on the 31st. Some fled, of course, and some stayed. But

ultimately, it didn't matter. None of them were ever heard from again. There were no physical remains, no signs of violence or bloodshed. They were just gone. The rest of the forum thread was just increasingly bizarre and baseless speculation about the nature and veracity of the event, and it quickly became silly enough to put my mind at ease regarding any similarity to my current situation. I didn't give it any more thought until I came home from work that night and saw that the jackal-lantern man had been lit up. It struck me as odd, giving Mr. Krakowski seeming exasperation with the thing, but maybe one of the neighbors had lit it up instead. The next morning when the sound of Lorland's joyful, excited cries came in through my open windows.

I tried to deny that they filled me with an ominous sense of dread. I cautiously stepped out my door, and sure enough, there was another jackal-antroned man in our neighborhood. It was right next door to Kukowski's house, the Craneers Place. Number 2 Willow Wood Crescent It wasn't identical to the previous one either, clearly made from through three. three real, once-living pumpkins with its own distinct design carved into him. I don't suppose anyone saw where this one came from, did they? I asked without much hope as I approached the crowd of onlookers.

It sighs surpassing the one from the day before. No one, which is pretty damn weird when you think about it, Jeremiah Craneer remarked, more confused than concerned by the Jackalander man's presence. This thing is not exactly light. but there are no marks on the lawn from someone dragging it, like it just popped out of the ground where it is. Do you think they're magic? Loreland asked, jumping up and down.

They're mysterious, Laurelian. Let's leave it at that for now. Jeremiah replied noncommittally, not wanting to crush her exuberance. I'm going to ask my aunt Samantha to come look at these. She's a witch. She'll know if they're magic, Lorland proclaimed.

Sweetheart, we've been over this. Your aunt Samantha is not a real witch. Lorland's mother reprimanded her gently. She was just lonely. Got taken in by a new age cultist and now works for her as a brainwashed fake psychic. Lorlin rolled her eyes at her mother's rationalism, but didn't argue with her.

Hey, Kikowsky's stack of lantern's been moved. I heard Tyler Ublockov shout. We all turned to where he was pointing, and sure enough, the Jackalanta man was now right up against Kikowsky's front window, peering inside. There were no signs of it being hauled across the lawn, not one blade of grass out of shape, and yet there it was, as though it was as portable as an inflatable Halloween decoration. Laurelind excitedly ran over to the jackalanturn and began knocking on Mr. Kikowsky's window, only to scream when she saw what was. inside. Her mother and several others immediately ran over to see what was wrong, and as Heidi comforted her daughter, the others either called for an ambulance or tried to break their way into the

house. Kikowsky had suffered a massive heart attack. He was lying dead on his living room floor where Laurelund found him. The EMTs estimated his time of death as just after sunrise. The prevailing theory among the neighborhood was that the site of the Jacqueline was that the the sight of the jackal-lantern man at his window had been what triggered the heart attack. And most of us wanted to know who was responsible for it. No one wanted to fess up, and I decided to keep the urban legend I'd read about to myself, so no one really had anything to go on.

But even without knowing about the legend from Heroic Hollows, a lot of people suspected that another jackal-lantern man would be gracing our neighborhood come October 3rd. Anyone who had anything that could be used as a security camera made sure they were set up and activated, and pointed towards house number three if it was possible. We also coordinated a watch around our work and sleep schedules as much as we could, ensuring we had the best chances of catching whoever was responsible for these things in the act. That night, as I kept my vigil on my porch, I saw the lights in both Jackal Intermen spring to life, even though I knew nobody would have dared to light them now, Come October 3rd, there was a grand total of three jackalanta men.

And the first two, while still on their original properties, had moved as well. None of our cameras have caught their movement, and by now we were all staring to get seriously unsettled. Kraner, most of all. If these things were here to pick us off one by one, then it made sense that he'd be next. Tyler was the first one to try and get rid of the damn things and called some of his friends to help him load him into his pickup truck. I don't remember where he planned on taking him or what he was going to do with him because it doesn't matter.

Before he could even get out of the neighborhood, one of his back tires exploded. He lost control and crashed into a street lamp. Nobody died that day, and Tyler himself was fine aside from some whiplash. but that's when most of us became convinced that these things were cursed. Each day a new jackalancher man would appear at the next house, and ones who were already present would have changed position, all without being seen or recorded.

They didn't decay as the days tick by either, always appearing as if they'd been freshly carved. Dogs hated them, but they were probably just picking up on their owners' unease. Nobody wanted to try moving them again, not after what happened with Tyler. There were no more heart attacks or car crashes after that, but the threat the Jackalander men posed still loomed over all of us. Each morning we'd regularly find things broken or missing,

the Jackalantron men seemingly to blame. They had a tendency to block off driveways, doorways, and garages, or sit in flower beds or play equipment. It was almost as if they were daring us to move. them, but we just worked around them rather than risk it. We didn't talk about him much after the first couple of days, and never within sight or earshot of them. We come to a general consensus that they were trying to troll us, to egg us into somehow

disrespecting them to give them license for revenge. It was around the middle of the month when Laurelain came knocking at my door. When I answered her, I found her standing next to a woman with long red hair, clad, in a long red dress and cloak with a pentagram necklace and triple moon belt buckle on prominent display. Ah, I'm going to go out on limb here and guess you're her aunt Samantha? I presumed. Yes, that's right.

I'm Samantha Sumner. I'm a metaphysical counselor and spiritual wellness advisor at Eves Eden of esoterica in town. She spoke confidently, as if those were actually valuable credit. It wasn't hard to see why Laurelind's mom had described as a brainwashed fake psychic. Lorlin asked me to stop by and take a look at the jackal lantern entities that have been manifesting in your neighborhood. Yeah, they've been popping up one after another all months. No one wants to just come on and say it's supernatural, but it's pretty damn weird we've never been able to see who's doing this, I admitted, awkwardly rubbing the back of my neck. Well, I can confirm for you that all of these jackalantron entities are definitely paranormal,

she said with confidence. I've been honing my clairvoyance for the past three years now, and there's no doubt in my mind that these jackalantrons are serving as earthly bindings for some manner of non-human spirits. The bindings are strong enough that they can at least manifest some minor misfortunes, and I suspect that at night and when no one's watching them, they might be able to manipulate the jackalantrum. interns directly.

I see, I nodded, humoring her at first, but unable to deny the fact that I had no rational explanation for how they were moving or getting fresh candles. Well, do you have any idea why this is happening? Unfortunately, no. I have found records of at least one similar event over a century ago, but I wasn't able to find any clear cause for that either, she admitted. What I do know is that these kinds of spirits demand respect. Do not try to move or damage them, and they will have no cause to retaliate.

You can also buy some goodwill with a token sacrifice, like a coin or a piece of candy. Aunt Samantha and I have already fed Halloween candy to each of the jackalantrons that are already here, and I'll feed any new ones to try and keep them from hurting anyone else, Loreland said doggedly. She was clearly still shaken by Kikowsky's death. Hell, I was too. It was kind of heartwarming to see how determined she was to keep the rest of us safe. I smiled warmly at her, while her aunt gave her a consoling pat on the back.

Is there anything I can do? I asked. Just avoid disrespecting the jackal lanterns. And when yours appears, be sure to honor it with a small sacrifice of some kind. Samantha replied, for good measure, you can make a sacrifice to the rest of them as well. Avoid them at night as much as you can. They're stronger when the veil between the physical and spiritual planes are weaker. It's weaker at night, and it will be the weakest of all on Halloween.

I don't know what's going to happen on Halloween, but if you can avoid offending them, I think you should be okay. If you like, I can perform a blessing on your home that should make it a little harder for any malicious spirits to harm you. No charge. With a reluctant sigh, I let the potentially crazy woman into my house. She did a little ritual and left me with her business card in case I wanted to invest in any of the protective charms they sold as well. That did make me start to wonder if the whole thing might have been some elaborate guerrilla marketing campaign.

But I couldn't deny that Samantha did seem sincere in her convictions. I watched through my window as she and Laurelund went over to Tyler's house, only to be shooed away like Jehovah's Witnesses. He was still pissed with the jackalancher man over his truck and neck. I knew he wasn't going to follow their advice. Somehow that gave me a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. The next day, I and probably everyone else in the neighborhood, were woken up by the sound of Tyler's cursing. He had gotten his jackal lantern man. and it had appeared on the roof of his truck.

It seemed they'd finally crossed the line that one of us couldn't abide by, and I watched helplessly as an enraged Tyler climbed up into the back of his pickup truck and furiously shoved the jack-lantern man onto the asphalt below. The pumpkins cracked, but largely remained intact, which Tyler apparently thought was a fate too good for them. He grabbed what I think was a monkey wrench from the toolbox in his truck and just started pulverizing the thing, stomping its hide until it was mush. He was so engrossed in his vengeance that he didn't notice when the parking brake on his truck suddenly gave out,

and it started rolling down his inclined driveway. I watched as it swerved, seemingly without cause, and crashed into an electric pole. I'm not a physicist, but there's no way that truck was moving with enough kinetic energy to topple that pole. And yet somehow, that's exactly what happened. I heard it snapped like a tree from a bolt of lightning and saw it fall forward into Tyler's house. Taut Powerline snapped, flailed about wildly, and started a fire that would burn Tyler's house to the ground.

Even in broad daylight, the smoke and flames from that inferno could be seen for miles. Tyler was devastated, of course, but more than that, it was terrified. A lot of us were terrified. We had no reason to think that burning down Tyler's house would be enough to save the jackal lantern's need for revenge. For all we knew, Tyler was a dead man, and we might all be next. The day after the house fire, Tyler's jackalanchard man was in one piece again, holding a marshmallow on a stick over the still smoldering rubble.

A lot of us decided to leave the neighborhood after that, at least until after Halloween, but not me. I honestly didn't think running away would do any good, and if anything, I'd just be putting into some bystanders in danger. I stayed, placing spare change in the mouths of each and every jack-lantern man, exactly as Samantha had said. Today, October 30th, the last jack-o-lantern man appeared, and it appeared on my lawn. I'm in house number 30, you see, right across the street from Kukowsky's house, since it's a crescent and all. I slowly pull back my curtains,

knowing it would be there but dreading the confirmation nonetheless. It was the worst one so far. It was bigger, too. Bigger than I was in both height and girth. Its face was a monstrous sneering gargoyle, or maybe more like a Japanese only. Its bottom two pumpkins weren't carved to resemble an outfit, but rather medieval depictions of hell, embellished by the candle glowing inside.

I noticed then that not only it, but all the other jackalantron men had their candles lit in the daytime, and they were burning brighter than they ever had before. Knowing what I had to do, I steled up my courage and went outside, a bowl of Halloween candy in hand. I fed my Jackalantraman first, then went door to door to feed the rest of them. Laurelind's family was among those that left, and I promised her I keep making offerings to the Jackalanchard men. I fortified my house a little, but what happened to Tyler's place is proof that won't stop them. I can only hope that we've managed to appease them. They're all here now, all 30 of them, and they've got one night left to do whatever it is they're going to do.

Tomorrow it won't be children, but the jackal lantern's doing the trick-or-treating. And I can only hope that our treats will be enough to stave off their tricks. And now a word from our sponsors. Sorry, it keeps cutting in and out. I wouldn't worry about that. What's your story about? It's about an explosive temper. Rather than spend her evening, either lurking in the basement or outside the house,

cruelly torturing, eventually killing, and munching on defenseless mice, little Tamara Lynn and her explosive temper decided that she would venture out on Halloween night for the very first time for something a bit sweeter tasting than rodents. The filthy things tasted like, well, rotting garbage. Her bad and selfish parents were all excited about the upcoming event. They had bought her a ghost costume. They told her all about the free candy that she would get, piling on the hype.

Mommy and Daddy just wanted to get rid of the irritating five-year-old psycho for a few hours, so they could be alone at home, away from little Tamara Lynn's jolting temper tantrums. Turn off all the lights in the house and thoroughly enjoy the peace and quiet. maybe even kill themselves to prolong that wonderful peace and quiet, to avoid that damn kid forever. And if somebody abducted or poisoned their only child while she was alone and out there trick-or-treating, thank God there was only one of her. Then so be it. The girl was a nightmarish Hellian. They knew all about her sadistically torturing and holy fucking shit eating mice.

Better the rodents than them while they slept at night. The big night came. Right away, Tamara Lynn and her simple ghost costume were getting their plastic bucket filled with all sorts of free candy from the neighbors. Wow, this was almost as good as terrorizing defenseless mice. It puzzled her, though, when some houses did not hand out sweet treats at all, did not even answer the front door. Their lights were out. What the hell? She would mutter in fury. The first house that she came to with no lights on still had Tamara Lynn yelling, trick-or-treat!

Standing there at the front door for several minutes, just resulted in her becoming angry. It was lucky for the mentally unbalanced demon when some other older kids informed Tamara Lynn about houses with no lights on. Those cheap bastards were people who did not give out candy. Probably foreigners who just recently came to this country and did not know about the ghouish tradition of Halloween night. Yeah, from countries where all those crazy bastards use explosives to make a point. Bomb your enemies all the way to hell. Too bad if innocence got hurt, too. Always carrying a knife to torture and torment, whatever,

even little Tamara Lynn knew that she could not get her revenge on these lights-out foreigners now. Slashing other homes jack-o-lantern pumpkins displayed on the front porch steps released some of her burning hostility, but not enough for the little psycho. muttering obscenities as she collected her free candy during the night. Everybody that could avoided the angry ghost. Even the older kids and parents out on the streets with their own kitties. The homeowners who handed out candy gave little Tamara Lynn handfuls of extra treats. The kid was obviously crazy.

They could tell, even with a ghost costume covering her small face. The Hofmeyers were both escaped mental. institution patients from years ago. Yeah, they knew crazy. Old Mr. Spencer was a retired serial killer who preferred the elderly for his fleshy meals. Mr. and Mrs. Gray had been released from the Smithfield home for the insane just last year due to them violently killing and dining on everybody else there, leaving the Grays the opportunity to exit the damn place and try to live a normal life. collecting more and more of it, the odd girl ate her free candy as fast as possible. Even though her frustrated parents warned her of getting quite sick when the little Helian got back home,

Tamara Lynn did not care if she got violently sick, erupted like a volcano, and emptied out her sugar-filled guts. She knew damn well who would clean up her splattering and disgusting puk. The girl did not know just how to her. much mommy and daddy despised their only child and her smelly, runny, vomit. The kid with serious anger issues was smart, though, sinister. Giving the mice a break for a while. Tamara Lynn did some research by asking some of the older kids in the neighborhood several questions. She soon got the vital information that she needed to get back at the useless foreigners who did not give her any Halloween candy.

They would pay for not giving her free sweets. It burned at her very tainted soul to have to wait until next Halloween night, though. Almost a full year. Her hatred grew stronger. The mice population suffered greatly from her mounting frustration and hatred. A few of the slower-moving seniors

out for a late-night-n stroll paid, too, with their ancient lives. The sick and twisted girl killed more than just rodents. Her parents noticed the change in their unwanted daughter, still with the temper tantrums. But she seemed so focused on something. Obsessed? They dare not ask her what, though. Mommy and Daddy had learned to not upset the little demon, usually scowling a little.

A smile began to find Tamara Lynn's face about a month before the next Halloween. A creepy spine-scraping smile. The girl's sinister plan for revenge was soon to take place. She had had to steal a lot of money from her parents, plus the elderly corpses of late-night walkers, to help with these sadistically planned revenge. Finally, the big night arrived. There would be sounds of ghost. goblins, vampires, and more out there on the neighborhood streets.

A certain someone was very much going to savor the more. Much to her parents' frustration, Tamara Lynn did not go out trick-or-trading that night. She wanted to stay home and watch the chaos from her bedroom window. Watch and listen. Enjoy. Every jack-o-lantern in the neighborhood had a hidden bomb in it now. At a certain time, they would all explode, loud and assaulting, killing each of the innocent pumpkins and whoever was close enough to be hit hard

by the orange shrapnel slamming into their skulls. The damn useless neighbors who came from countries where bombs were an everyday occurrence would be blamed for the carnage. The sinister five-year-old girl would be more than just a sick and twisted Helion. from now on. Little Tamara Lynn and her explosive temper were now a... Thank you, call her. It's going to be it for us today. Regardless, this is creepy. You're listening to KREP today, tomorrow, and forever. For more information on this podcast, including how to submit your own story for consideration, please visit creepypod.com. You can also follow us

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