Calaruga Shark Media, Hello, and Welcome to Ghost. This episode is titled
The Parade of Nightmares. Autumn Hollow was known for its vibrant foliage and the
annual Thanksgiving Day parade that painted the town in hues of tradition and celebration.
But this year, as the first leaves began to turn, an undercurrent of
dread whispered through the town. The chill in the air wasn't just from the
onset of winter. It was anticipation, foreboding of something amiss. The townspeople
gathered, as they did every year, lining the main street, their breaths
visible in the crisp November air. Children perched on their parents' shoulders, and
vendors sold hot cider and turkey legs. The parade began with the usual fanfare,
high school bands, floats sponsored by local businesses, and the mayor's speech
about community and gratitude. But as the last of the traditionally decorated floats passed
by, a silence fell over Autumn Hollow. A fog rolled in sudden and
unnatural, clinging to a float that emerged without announcement or recognition. It was
a ship, a grand galleon that seemed to sail upon the mist, its
sails torn, its masts creaking ominously. The crowd stared, mouths agape as
the spectral ship drew nearer. Upon it stood the figure of a pilgrim.
His clothes not the colorful garb of the thanksgiving iconography, but dark, tattered,
and stained with something that looked perilously like blood. His eyes were hollow,
his skin pale, and otherworldly glow surrounding him. That night, the
people of Autumn Hollow were visited by nightmares, visions of a Thanksgiving long past,
where the pilgrim from the float, a man by the name of Ezekiel
Crane, was not a guest but a harbinger of doom. In their dreams,
they saw the town's forefathers inviting a group of travelers to join their feast.
Among them was Ezekiel, a man who'd lost his family to the harsh
winter and had since wandered, consumed by grief and a growing darkness. The
dreams showed the celebration turning to chaos. Ezekiel, it seemed, had brought
more than his sorrow to the table. He'd brought a curse, one that
he'd unwittingly fallen prey to during his wanderings, a curse that promised prosperity but
brought only pestilence. As the townsfolk of that fateful thanksgiving fell one by one,
their joy turning to ash in their mouths, Ezekiel's spirit was cursed to
walk the land, his presence a perpetual blight on Autumn Hollow. The spectral
float was no mere decoration. It was the ghostly vessel that carried Ezekiel Crane's
tormented soul. Each year it emerged from the mist of forgotten memories, a
reminder of the town's dark heritage, of a celebration that had turned a morning,
of a feast that had become a famine. As the days passed,
the town grew sick, crops withered, livestock fell ill, and a malaise
spread among the people, just as it had all those centuries ago. The
town council, desperate and fearful, scoured the historical records for any mention of
Ezekiel and the curse that had befallen them. In the oldest tone, bound
in leather and forgotten in the town library, they found the account of that
first cursed thanksgiving. It spoke of a ritual, a way to appease Ezekiel's
wandering spirit, a feast to be laid out in his honor, with a
seat left empty at the head of the table. The town, driven by
fear and the hope of salvation, prepared the feast. They gathered under the
skeletal branches of the trees where the leaves had once flourished. A table was
set in the heart of the town square, and a chair was left vacant
for Ezekiel. The townspeople joined hands, their breath forming a cloud above them
as they recited the words written in the ancient tone. The incantation was spoken,
the mist returned, and with it the galleant Ezekiel Crane stepped off the
float, his eyes filled with an eternity of sorrow. He approached the table,
his form flickering between that of a man and a phantom. As he
took his seat, the townspeople stepped back, their hearts racing with the fear
that the ritual might fail. But instead of the chaos of their nightmares,
there was a moment of quiet. Ezekiel looked upon the feast, his eyes
meeting those of the townspeople. A single tear glowed on his cheek, shimmering
with the same ethereal light that surrounded him. He nodded a gesture of gratitude
and acceptance. With that, the curse lifted, the fog dissipated, the
crops stood tall once more, and health returned to the livestock and the people.
Ezekiel's spirit found peace, his curse resolved. Through the town's acknowledgment and
remembrance of the past. Autumn Hollow would never forget the Thanksgiving Day parade that
brought them face to face with their history. The story of Ezekiel Crane would
be told for generations not as a tale of terror, but as a lesson
in compassion and the importance of honoring every soul living or departed. The apparition
of Autumn Hollow had become a part of the town's fabric, a chilling reminder
of the thin veil between the past and the present, and the undeniable truth
that sometimes the ghosts of history must be faced in order to find peace.
And every year, henceforth, as Thanksgiving approached, an empty chair was placed
at every table, a silent tribute to the pilgrim who had become a part
of Autum Hollow's legacy. Ghost is a Calorogus Shark Media production, written and
hosted by Alexander Ian McIntyre, produced by Mark Francis. Executive producers Mark Francis
and John McDermott Calaroga Shark Media