 The moonlight is shown on the open pumpkin field. The farm was the picture of Serenity until a piercing shout shattered the silence. Move out! yelled Alpha. The four MTF agents spread across the field. There are assault rifles and flashlights casting light on the fully grown pumpkins. Why are we even here? You haven't even told us what we're looking for, Chief. Question Delta. Uh, well, I don't rightfully know, but a half dozen people go and miss in here and every surrounded pumpkin farm being torn apart during their best season doesn't seem to add up right, Chief responded. Just look for something out of the ordinary. They scavenge the field for hours, looking for anything that could be construed as anomalous. A scarecrow that strongly resembled Delta, an extremely angry coyote in a pumpkin that looks suspiciously like a basketball, but did not bounce like one, didn't really apply. There ain't shit here, boss. Gamma finally said after a deep inspection of a vine. Fine. Turn around and head back to the side. Probably some psycho axe murderer or some shit. Alpha turned around and began to march in the direction of the transport. Be fitting given the data and all. We might even be able to catch the tail end of the Halloween party, cheered Delta. The rest of the team turned to look at the newest member of their team. Fucking hell, kid. Nobody goes to sight parties. Directors always find some way to make it about how we don't do enough work. Like to see them get on their asses and do this shit. Beta grumbled. I mean, a party is a party, right? Damn it. Tossed out Delta, interrupted by his foot stepping on one of the smaller pumpkins. Wait, what the fuck? Boss, check this out. Pumpkins like, mutated or something. Indeed, the pumpkin had shattered from Delta's steel-toed boot, spilling on a mix of various candies and sweets. The troops were fascinated. Bag up a sample of the Snickers for transport, Alpha ordered. Just before a long screech broke through the field. The members were ready in an instant, even Delta, rifles raised and backs against each other. They had been thoroughly trained in high-stakes tactics, which is why they didn't hesitate when the first pumpkin leaped out of the ground and rushed at them on its spindly wooden legs three shots later, it was on the ground, dropping a blood-red Twizzler rope with it. Is that it? Only two? That's Delta. Cuzzled. Good job, kid. Now you jinxed us. Snarled Gamma. As if to punctuate his words, another shriek rang out and pumpkins began rising from their vines. A few swayed menacingly, while others wasted no time in charging the squad. Bullets rang out like rain, each member contributing their own style. Alpha methodically aimed at a lone pumpkin and burst it, then moved on to the next target. Beta swept his gun side to side, shattering any pumpkin beasts that wandered too close and showering the battlefield with enough candy to give an elephant a sugar rush. Gamma was firing like a madman with no one for ammunition or accuracy, reveling in the sugar lust. Delta tried to help, but there was a combination of his first real ambush, or the stress, or perhaps his gun jamming, for some reason chose to resort to holding his rifle like a bat and crushing anything that came too close. In one instance, Gamma's leg, resulting in a swift and light kick to the chest. The team worked their way through the dozens of small pumpkin monsters, whether by shooting or smashing until the shots silenced, and they were surrounded by dozens of small fruit-shaped corpses in enough milky ways, Twizzlers, nerds, Hershey's, sweet tarts, and pixie sticks to open a store, as well as enough apples to open a small food cart at least. What? What the fuck? yelled Delta. Wide-eyed and shell-shocked, the others simply laughed. You'll get used to it, kid. Weird shit comes with the job. His diatrav about reading fine print on contracts was cut off by the ground rumbling. They said to themselves, as a gigantic version of the pumpkins they had just eviscerated, raised itself out of the dirt on spindly legs. Fuck. The team opened fire, but the pumpkin abomination's hide reflected the mass of the bullets. A handful breached its shell, opening boreholes from which copious amounts of candy began to flow. The beast trundled forward, reaching out with one of its legs and driving it directly through Gamma's stomach. Gamma screamed before being lifted up in the air by a six-meter tall fruit. The pair looked at each other, the squad still releasing a hail of bullets, and for a moment Gamma stopped screaming. Then he burst into a shower of candy. Jesus! Alfa, as he was pelted with the sugary remains of his soldier, the pumpkin used the opportunity to dive forward and seize beta within its grip, instantaneously exploding him into sweets. Alfa and Delta backed up as the pumpkin advanced on them, pushing through the various twizzlers and three musketeers that half of the team had become. For a moment, all was lost, then Alfa tore something from his shoulder. Stealing himself, he charged forward and left directly into the maw of the monster. The pumpkin, rather pleased with this turn of events, happily swallowed Alfa. For a moment it stopped its advance as it chewed on the chief, then it exploded violently, as the grenade Alfa was holding, detonated within its stomach. Delta shielded its eyes, as a hailstorm of candy fell upon them, but was still thrown back by the force of the blast. He sat in the field as he was showered with enough glucose to give 6-8-2 diabetes, and watched the sun rise over the field, surrounded by what may or may not have been the remains of his colleagues. Delta walked through the underground security corridor, leading to site 39, the echo of his boots becoming more and more apparent with each step. His wide-eyed face was impassive as he scanned his keycard and pushed open the door. The Halloween party was dying down at this point, a dozen odd researchers mingling and holding cups from some non-alcoholic punch as corny-themed music played over the speaker. The wall across from the door was dominated by a large banner with the words, Happy Halloween, along with skeletons and pumpkins, the rest of the group finally noticed him. Hey Jeff, you missed the whole party. We had a candy trade, and we're the rest of the guys. Asks Senior Researcher Smiths, Delta simply keeled over, threw up.