The Escalation In The Woods

It was a frigid, blustery night. The wind howled with such ferocity that trees bent perilously close to their breaking points. A sense of dread permeated the air, fitting for the eerie celebration of Halloween—the purportedly scariest time of the year. Yet, amidst the fear, the gleeful eyes of children in various costumes shone bright. They roamed in groups, knocking on doors and exclaiming, "Trick or treat!" Their bags swelled with candy, a ritual well-known to them, especially the teenagers. For these older kids, the joy came not from sweets but from camaraderie.

Within this teenage cohort, divisions were apparent, though not based on any discernible criteria. Among the cliques, a trio of unremarkable boys—Harindo, Sham, and Varun—debated the existence of ghosts. Despite their skepticism, the topic was fitting for the occasion.

"Varun, you're wearing your costume backwards! The eyes are sticking out of your back!" Sham chuckled.

"And why can't they? Is there a rule that ghosts only see from the front?" Varun retorted.

"Only if you're a loony one!" Harindo teased.

Their laughter was infectious until an interruption came.

"You fools, ghosts aren't real. Just wear your costume however you want and get over it. Halloween is so lame," sneered a familiar voice.

The boys turned to face Marul, a 16-year-old classmate known for his pretentious maturity. He stood there, clad in casual clothes, looking down on the festivities he deemed childish.

"Hey Marul, did you get that job offer from the garbage collectors? It'd suit you, given all the trash talk," Sham shot back.

The boys snickered.

"No, you moron," Marul snapped. "I'm still in school, but I'll land a job before any of you losers."

"I thought you were too grown-up for school, let alone Halloween. What brings you here?" Varun inquired.

"I wanted to witness the absurdity of these costumes firsthand. Clearly, I've underestimated everyone's foolishness," Marul scoffed.

"And we overestimated your height," Harindo quipped.

Laughter erupted once more, but Marul's patience had worn thin.

"SHUT UP!" he bellowed. "I came to remind you idiots that ghosts don't exist. Stop fussing over Varun's costume; he looks ridiculous either way."

With that, Marul stormed off.

"What a jerk," Varun muttered.

"Agreed. He's such a hypocrite, parading his 'maturity' around, which is ironically immature," Sham added.

"We should teach him a lesson," Harindo suggested.

"A good idea..." Varun mused, a scheme taking shape in his mind.

"What do you have in mind?" Sham asked, intrigued.

"Listen up, I have a plan, but I need your help to pull it off," Varun said.

"We're listening," Harindo replied, eager to hear more.

The boys huddled as Varun laid out his strategy.

Varun paced his study, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through him. The stakes were high, and the potential for trouble loomed large. Marul's mocking words echoed in his head, fueling his resolve. He checked in with Harindo and Sham; they were ready. It was time to confront Marul.

After enduring Marul's condescending tone on the phone, Varun baited him into meeting in the woods near the abandoned house on Fifth Avenue. Marul, though hesitant, agreed.

Sham and Harindo double-checked their elaborate setup, ensuring everything was in place. Satisfied, they awaited Varun's signal.

As Marul approached, calling out for Varun, a chilling voice responded, claiming to be a vengeful spirit. Marul's bravado crumbled into fear. At that moment, the trap was sprung. Objects flew, and Marul dodged frantically, only to collapse onto the grass, overwhelmed by the haunting prank.

Moral: The fallout of friendly folly is seldom funny.