Clair kneels nude in the pumpkin patch before a full moon, gazing pensively in the distance. Plus nude, witch hat, and satisfied futa versions, character profile and story!
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Night in the Pumpkin Patch
Clair looked down at her phone. Just a quick swipe through her social feeds to check what her friends were doing. She frowned and pushed a long lock of auburn hair behind her ear. It seemed like all of them where doing way more exciting things than her.
A tendril slithered towards her exposed leg. She batted it away. It wriggled back across the ground, groping for something, until it came upon its intended target, a silver carving knife. It wrapped itself around the handle and hefted the cutlery aloft. Clair watched, disinterested.
The vine instinctually directed the knife towards one of its bulbous orange fruit bodies—a shapely pumpkin ready for harvest. Adjusting and readjusting its aim, the vine seemed blind and uncertain of the position of its actual target. It waved the blade in the air in utter confusion, prompting Clair to cautiously scoot back, until the plant finished its task.
Making one final guess, it plunged the blade down upon itself.
Clair sighed. The plant missed its mark by a wide margin. The tendrils however, acting as though their aim was true, started carving into the dirt, awkwardly stabbing the blade in zigzagging patterns.
"Here, I'll help." She quickly wrapped her long fingers, clad in protective leather half-gloves, around the handle and stalk, and redirected the knife’s path towards one of the plant’s ripe and radiant pumpkins. "Let's make some eyes so you can see what you’re doing.” Working together (but mostly guided by Clair), they hacked out a pair of triangular eyes, and then crooked the blade to carve the pumpkin a saw-toothed grin.
Once cut, an inner light poured through the gourd’s cleft cavities. This was a Jack-Off Lantern, easy to spot among the other varieties of pumpkins in the patch. Upon reaching maturity, an eerie flame would kindle within the hollow body of the Lantern, creating a conspicuous flickering glow against the dark backdrop of night.
The Lantern’s excised gourd bits tumbled into the cobwebbed pumpkin vines and leaves that littered the ground. Along with light, guttural utterances escaped from the gourd’s uncapped walls. Among the constant chanting groans, she thought she heard a voice thank her. She’d felt it more in her head than something spoken aloud, but who could tell. The night air was crisp, and sound carried from every direction, making the patch a concert of chattering noises, be they wind swept foliage, animal calls, or insect chirps. Now, monastic pumpkin chants joined the melody. Like a New Age album with a Halloween theme, Clair thought, unmoved.
She sighed again and lifted her phone to browse her social feed. This was but the first of many pumpkins who would need help with lancing, carving, or de-lidding tonight.
Clair jumped a little, almost dropping her phone, as she felt something brush against her slender thigh. She looked down to see a glowing pumpkin pulling itself close to her using its vine stalks. Grabbing the knife, she carved a face into it. The Jack-Off-Lantern glowed with satisfaction and began chanting. The strange song grew louder as its “voice” joined the other Lantern.
There she sat among the glowing, singing plants, carving one pumpkin face after another. By now their ranks swelled around her. Most people would have found the sight bewitching, even breathtaking, but Clair watched with a degree of detachment as the Lanterns released their eerie energies from their gourdial prisons. The pumpkins had pulled in this strange energy from the ground through their roots, along with water and nutrients, as they grew. Clair knew that much from school.
Perhaps the pumpkin patch sat above an old cemetery…or an ancient landfill. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. From the smell of it, whatever lay beneath was pure evil. Though exactly what that “evil” was, she couldn’t tell. Not without a shovel and a lot more enthusiasm.
This place was way out in the country—uncharted territory for a bookish, long time suburb dweller. Her only guide to the area, and this field of study, was a ditzy blonde witch who was anything but helpful. Where was Kiran anyway—in bed, or maybe out conjuring? What did witches do on a night of a full moon? Well, she knew what “witch assistants” did anyways…
The subtle brush of another something against her thigh pulled her from her musings.
“Yeesh!” she sneered as she thought about the churning layers of rotting vegetation, and all the creepy things possibly crawling within. She tucked her legs beneath herself a little tighter. They were the only barrier between her butt and the ground. Her witch trainee attire left plenty uncovered...
She considered climbing onto one of the larger pumpkins… but recalled cautionary tales about using certain pumpkins as chairs. Creepy stuff involving…
...
…best not to think about that....
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