Rick, a small boy with tousled hair and wide, searching eyes, stands barefoot in the grass. He shivers in the gray light, drawn toward the odd pumpkin. With a hesitant hand, he reaches out, his breath forming a fleeting cloud in the chill.

Rick gasps, trying to pull away, but the pumpkin latches onto his head, its tendrils soft but insistent. He feels a curious warmth, tinged with the scent of autumn earth and memories of laughter he never had. Suddenly, his body begins to change—he grows younger, lighter, his feet swelling and stretching, toes curling into round, playful shapes, turning into Jack The Jack-o’-lantern .

Jack The Jack-o’-lantern finds himself bursting with joy. He snaps his fingers, a gesture that severs the last thread tying him to his painful past. The grass tickles his bare, blackened feet, and he laughs—a sound bright and wild as he begins to dance.

"Let the night remember me!" Jack The Jack-o’-lantern calls, his voice echoing through the empty yard. Twigs snap beneath his steps, and moonlight gleams along the ridges of his pumpkin grin. He whirls in wild delight, freed from sorrow and fear.

The orphanage children watch from the window, whispering about the legend of Sleeping Jack The Jack-o’-lantern . Some swear they see the soil quiver as if it breathes. By day, Jack dreams in the dark, waiting for the sun to set again.

"Tonight, I dance for every lonely heart," Jack The Jack-o’-lantern whispers to the wind, his feet already moving, his spirit forever part of the soil and stars.