This is a story I’ve been working on for a while, featuring Hungry Pumkin
The first few paragraphs are AI generated up to Cain’s introduction but everything past there is me
One day, Hungry Pumkin decided to go to town to buy some salt. It was a very long way from his house to the nearest shop in the village and he knew that he would be tired by the time he got there if he walked non stop. So, Pumkin went out into the forest and found a sturdy tree branch that he could sit on. When he was ready to start walking again, he took one last look at where he had come from. Pumkin’s eyes were drawn towards something on the ground at the base of a large pine tree and for just a moment, he felt as though he should go over and pick up what it was that he saw. He couldn’t quite work out why but he didn’t like the feeling so he turned away and started walking.
After a while, Pumkin realised that he wasn’t going to make it to town before nightfall so he thought about turning around and finding somewhere else to sleep for the evening. But then he noticed an old farmhouse with smoke coming out of its chimney. The house looked empty and seemed to be surrounded by fields full of vegetables, which meant that it probably belonged to someone who worked in the nearby market square. This gave Pumkin an idea. If there was no one there then he might be able to sneak inside through a window or door that hadn’t been shut properly after the family left. Pumkin was hoping that he would find some food in the kitchen cupboards too and maybe even a salt shaker. If he did find anything like this he would make sure to leave a note telling whoever lived there how much he appreciated their kindness. He planned to spend the night sleeping peacefully under the table in the dining room.
Pumkin crept through the darkening forest until he reached the edge of the farmer’s land. He was surprised to see a fence around the property as he had never seen such a thing before. As he passed the gate he heard loud voices coming from the house. A woman’s voice said: “I told you not to let them eat all of the mushrooms!” Another voice replied, “But my dear, they’re your children. You don’t want to hurt their feelings do you?” Then another voice called out from within the house, “Oh yes I do! They can keep those nasty little creatures away from me.” Pumkin sniggered to himself and thought ‘She sounds like my mum!’
Pumkin followed the fence line until he came to a small paddock with sheep grazing on the lush green grass. There were four of the animals standing around a small hut made of sticks and mud. Pumkin wondered whether the hut belonged to the farmer or perhaps his wife. He listened closely and could hear the sound of a baby crying inside. He tried to squeeze his body underneath the fence to get closer and peeked through a gap in the wood. Inside the hut, he could see a young girl sitting in front of a fire with a tiny baby lying on her lap. She kept trying to feed him but the baby wouldn’t stop crying. Pumkin watched quietly for a few moments and then began to make his way back along the fence until he was safely beyond the reach of the sheep.
He continued to walk for a long time, thinking about the things he would need to take with him to live with the farmers. He had been given a present when he was born and this meant that he should return it to his mother. However, he also really wanted to stay with the people who lived there and he knew that he would have to decide between the two. Pumkin thought about returning home to tell his parents where he was going but he realised that he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye properly if he did that. Then he remembered the salt that he needed to buy. Maybe he could drop it off first and then explain later?
Pumkin had almost forgotten about the strange feeling that had made him stop and pick up whatever it was that lay on the ground earlier. He stopped for a moment to check out the area again and then he realised that the object was still there. As he approached, he saw that it was a piece of bark. Suddenly, a loud voice came from behind him.
“Hey! You! What are you doing here?” said the voice.
Pumkin turned around quickly and saw a large, fierce-looking man standing right next to him. His face looked angry and he was holding a stick that he was using to poke at the ground.
“Err… hello?” Pumkin stammered.
The man raised the stick higher in the air. “Don’t move! Don’t try anything funny or I’ll hit you!” he shouted.
Pumkin suddenly realised that if he gave any indication that he intended to run away, the man would chase after him and probably beat him up. Instead, Pumkin decided to stay calm and pretend that he didn’t know the man. “Hello,” he said again, in the same friendly tone of voice that he always spoke to people. “Is that your house over there? Are you the farmer?”
“Yes! That’s my house. And no, I’m not a farmer. I’m the bailiff. I own the whole ■■■■ farm.”
“Oh,” said Pumkin, disappointed. “Well, I was looking for someone to live with. Is your wife here then?”
“My wife? No, she died years ago and we’ve got no kids. But you can stay with us anyway. We don’t mind. You can sleep here if you like.”
“Really?” said Pumkin, excitedly. “Then I will stay with you. Thank you! How do I get in?”
“I’ll show you,” said the bailiff. He took hold of Pumkin’s arm and pulled him towards the house.
They went through an open doorway and up a staircase covered with old, tattered rugs. Then they entered a large room that was filled with wooden furniture. It smelled musty and damp, but Pumkin didn’t mind. The people who lived there seemed nice enough and they had plenty of food. In fact, they seemed so welcoming that Pumkin forgot about the salt and began to think more about living with them.
As the bailiff led him into the main part of the house he saw that the place was full of children. At least a dozen of them were running around in every direction, screaming and shouting. Many of them jumped onto the furniture, laughing as they fell over each other. One little boy ran straight past Pumkin, squealing with delight. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and pointed at Pumkin.
“I thought you said you didn’t have kids?” Pumkin remarked.
“We do now,” the bailiff replied. “They’re grandchildren. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Pumkin followed him deeper into the house and he soon saw that there were many rooms upstairs, although none of them contained any beds. He spotted a big pot on the stove and asked the bailiff what it was for.
“That’s our dinner,” he replied. “We’ve got a lot more mouths to feed than we used to.”
In the corner of the kitchen, Pumkin could see a tall woman with long black hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a baggy white dress and carried a tray with cups and plates piled high upon it. She was busy filling the cups with hot water from the kettle. The older children were sitting around the table drinking their tea and eating slices of bread and cheese. The youngest ones were sitting next to their mothers, feeding them bits of their sandwiches. Pumkin watched in amazement as the younger children fed their babies pieces of meat from their own plates. Some of the children were so small that they had trouble lifting the food up to their mouths. Their mothers helped them by holding the bowls for them.
“Are all of these grandchildren yours?” Pumkin asked.
“Nope,” said the bailiff. “You’re going to have to sleep in a pile of mattresses though because I don’t have any proper beds for you.”
“Oh. All right then, if that’s what you want,” replied Pumkin. “I don’t mind.”
As night fell, the bailiff and his family went to their bedroom and left Pumkin alone in the middle of the huge pile of mattresses and blankets. He curled up into a ball and tried to go to sleep but he couldn’t stop worrying about how he would manage to fit into the space between all of the other mattresses. Eventually, he gave up trying and climbed out of the pile. After taking a quick shower, he walked downstairs and sat down at the table next to the bailiff’s wife. She gave him some bread and cheese and he ate it happily until he realised that he was being stared at.
“Wait a minute,” Pumkin realised, “the bailiff said you were dead!”
“Well, I am,” she replied. “But I’m not really, you know. I’m just pretending to be dead so that my husband doesn’t have to share food with me.”
Pumkin looked at her curiously. “Why would he do that?”
“Because I’m a witch,” she replied. “I’m cursed by the devil and I’m supposed to be punished forever.”
“Oh,” said Pumkin. “Does that mean you’re going to die?”
“No,” she replied. “It means that I’ll never have any children. My husband is afraid of me because he thinks that I will curse him if he touches me. So instead, I have to pretend to be dead whenever he comes home from work. He usually brings us food and then goes straight to bed. It’s horrible, isn’t it? I feel sorry for him.”
“What happens when he dies?” asked Pumkin. “Will you wake up then?”
“Of course,” she replied. “One day soon, I will finally be free. Until then, I’ll just have to lie here and starve.”
“Do you ever talk to the grandchildren?” asked Pumkin.
“Sometimes,” she replied. “But most of the time they ignore me. They’re all so busy playing. Why don’t you come and play with us?”
Pumkin thought for a moment. “All right,” he replied. “If you promise not to bite my head off.”
The children all laughed loudly as they ran outside into the paddock. Pumkin followed them and found a small wooden boat that one of them had made. He pushed it out into the pond and the children started to throw stones at it. Soon, the boat was sinking and the children were jumping in and out of the water. Pumkin joined in and they splashed and played together for half an hour. When they tired of this, they raced around the paddock and then hid behind bushes while they chased each other. They played tag and hide-and-seek and they ran around the house, chasing imaginary enemies. Pumkin was amazed at how much energy the children had and how they never seemed to get bored. Although he wasn’t very good at it, he enjoyed himself and he felt happy for the first time since he had arrived at the farm.
After a few hours of fun, the children began to grow hungry. The adults brought them food and the children sat down in a circle, passing around the plates in turn. Pumkin was surprised when the bailiff’s wife put a piece of meat into his hand. He ate it gratefully and drank some wine from a cup that he was given. The bailiff’s wife began to argue with a tall man with a bushy beard who Pumkin hadn’t seen before, but the children ignored them and continued to eat. Suddenly, the bailiff’s wife stood up and walked angrily across the room.
“Come on!” she shouted. “Let’s all go to bed! Your children need their sleep. I think it’s time you left.”
“I will leave, but my children won’t,” said the man. “They need a mother.”
“You’re insane!” she exclaimed. “How can I possibly look after fifty children? Where will they sleep? Will I even have a place to sit? I won’t let you bring those brats here! Go home and find somewhere else to live.”
Suddenly, the man noticed Pumkin, and stared at him menacingly. Pumkin felt very uncomfortable and ran back upstairs to the pile of mattresses. He lay down on top of the blankets and pulled up the edge of the mattress above his head to make a tent. He was too tired to worry about the man anymore and soon he drifted off into a deep sleep.
When he woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the window. He quickly threw on a pair of trousers, a ■■■■■ and a jacket and went downstairs to find breakfast. He was glad to see that his new friends were already awake and sitting at the table. The bailiff’s wife was busy serving them porridge in bowls made from hollowed-out tree trunks. There was also some hot milk to drink and a big pot of honey for them to dip their bread into.
“Good morning!” said the bailiff’s wife. “It looks like we’re going to have another beautiful day today. My husband’s told me about you.”
“Oh yes,” said Pumkin. “I was hoping he would. My name is Hungry Pumkin and I’m looking for a place to live.”
“Oh,” said the bailiff’s wife. “So I heard last night. Well, I hope you enjoy your stay.”
She turned away and began to fill the children’s bowls with porridge. Pumkin noticed that she looked sad. As she passed him, she murmured something quietly under her breath and he heard her say:
“I wish I could help you somehow. I really do, but I can’t.”
Pumkin decided to ask her about it later. He sat down and began to eat his breakfast. After a few minutes, he became aware of a strange noise coming from outside. The children were screaming and crying and the adults were shouting at them. Pumkin looked out of the window and saw that several people had gathered at the front door, arguing loudly. He realised that they were fighting about him.
The tall man with a bushy beard was pushing a young girl out of the way. He grabbed hold of Pumkin’s arm and dragged him outside. The others began to shout at him, demanding to know where Pumkin came from.
“What do you think you’re doing?” said the bailiff. “Pumkin is our guest!”
The man shook Pumkin violently. “Where did you find him?” he demanded. “Why are you keeping him here?”
“He’s my guest,” said the bailiff. “And why shouldn’t we keep him? What harm has he done?”
“Nothing yet,” replied the man. “But if he stays here, he may cause trouble. He might try to hurt someone or steal their money.”
“I doubt it,” said the bailiff. “But if he does, I’ll kill him myself. Now, what do you want with him?”
“I want to take him back home,” said the man. “There’s a man who wants to buy him. You can have whatever money he owes you.”
“I don’t want any money from him,” said the bailiff. “He’s my guest. He can stay here for as long as he likes.”
The man glared at the bailiff and slapped Pumkin across the face with his open hand. The blow knocked Pumkin to the ground and he felt a sharp pain shoot through his cheek. Before he could cry out, the man’s fist struck him again and he fell unconscious. He couldn’t move or speak. He could only watch helplessly as the man turned and walked towards a large black car. The crowd began to cheer as the man drove away with Pumkin still lying on the ground. The bailiff picked him up gently and brought him back inside the house. Just before he blacked out, Pumkin saw his grandmother standing at the edge of the field. She was watching him with tears in her eyes.
Pumkin woke up with a start and sat bolt upright in the pile of mattresses. He looked around wildly for a moment and then he remembered where he was. He was at the farm in the forest and he was safe. He breathed a sigh of relief and lay back down on top of the covers. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. He opened his eyes and saw that the bailiff was standing in the doorway.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realise that you were awake. I’ll explain everything later.”
“No, it’s ok. What happened?” asked Pumkin. “Why did that man attack me?”
“It’s a long story,” replied the bailiff. “We need to talk about it in private. But first, I’d better call an ambulance.”
The doctor examined Pumkin carefully and took some X-rays. After a few minutes, he concluded that nothing was broken and that he would recover fully. The doctor advised Pumkin to spend two weeks resting at home and drinking lots of warm milk. If he was careful, he would make a full recovery in a month or so.
“Can I go outside?” asked Pumkin. “My legs are getting stiff and my arms ache from lying in bed all day.”
“Yes, of course,” replied the doctor. “But please remember not to do anything too strenuous and to stick to the garden area. Don’t go beyond the fence.”
Pumkin smiled happily. The doctor had been kind to him. In fact, everyone at the farm had been very nice. He wondered why they had treated him so well when they knew that he wasn’t their real son. Perhaps they were just being polite, he thought. Or maybe they were worried that he would cause trouble. Either way, he was grateful for their kindness.
Just before noon, the bailiff returned home from work. He found Pumkin sitting cross-legged on top of the mattresses playing a game with the children. His cheek was swollen and he had a nasty cut on his lip from the earlier assault. When the bailiff saw him, he frowned.
“Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he asked. “I’ve got something important to tell you.”
Pumkin shrugged his shoulders. “I was playing with the children,” he explained. “I didn’t hear you.”
The bailiff sighed heavily and ordered the children to leave the room, before he sat down beside Pumkin. “I’m afraid that I have some bad news,” he said. “That man who attacked you… well, he’s my father.”
Pumkin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your father?” he repeated. “But why did he hurt me?”
The bailiff hesitated and then began to explain. “He was an alcoholic,” he said slowly. “His first wife died years ago and then he remarried a couple of months later. He moved house and he immediately began drinking more than ever. By the time I was born, he was completely drunk every day. He used to beat me and my brothers and sisters constantly. I stopped believing that he loved us and left to live on my own.”
The bailiff stopped talking and looked away.
“What did your father want with me?” Pumkin asked.
“I don’t know,” replied the bailiff. “I never expected to see him again.”
“Your father said there was a man who wanted to buy me,” Pumkin recalled, “what did he mean by that?”
“I don’t know either,” admitted the bailiff. “But I guess he meant that he wants to sell you.”
“Who would want to buy me? I don’t have any skills and I’m no good to anyone.”
“Maybe he thinks you have some useful talent,” suggested the bailiff. “Or maybe he wants to use you to work for him.”
“Work? What sort of work would I be able to do?”
“Whatever he wants,” replied the bailiff. “He’s probably planning to enslave you.”
“Slaves don’t get paid,” said Pumkin. “And how am I supposed to survive?”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” said the bailiff. “First, we need to find out what he wants from you. And then we’ll decide what to do next.”
The following evening, Pumkin sat alone in the dining room. He was very worried that the bailiff’s father would come to hurt him again. He remembered how angry the man had been when he had seen Pumkin before. Pumkin looked anxiously at the large mirror hanging over the mantelpiece. It was covered with dust and there was a spider web in one corner. Suddenly, he noticed something moving in the reflection. He leaned closer to the glass and looked at his own reflection. He saw himself sitting on the sofa, playing with a toy car. He was wearing a dark blue dressing gown and he had a bandage wrapped around his head. He peered in closer.
“Hello, Pumkin.” His reflection said. Pumkin reeled back in terror. He was certain that his reflections voice was coming from within his own mouth.
“Who are you? How did you get into my house?” he demanded.
“I followed you home,” replied his reflection.
Pumkin stood up quickly. “You can’t be here! This isn’t possible!”
He ran upstairs to the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He looked at the window and saw that his reflection was still sitting on the sofa. The figure jumped up and waved at him. Pumkin called out to him, but his reflection ignored him and continued to sit on the sofa.
“Open the curtains,” His reflection ordered. “I can’t see you clearly because the curtains are hiding you from view. Let me look at you properly.”
Pumkin obeyed and pulled the curtain aside. His reflection leaped up and jumped onto the windowsill. He looked down at Pumkin and smiled.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time,” he said. “Now we can finally meet each other face to face.”
“What do you want from me?” asked Pumkin angrily. “Are you going to hurt me like that man did?”
“Of course not,” replied his reflection. “I don’t want to hurt you. All I want is for you to give me a name and a family.”
“How do I know you won’t run away?” asked Pumkin. “You haven’t shown your face to anyone else yet.”
“That’s true,” agreed his reflection. “But that doesn’t matter. You can trust me. I will never betray you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because you can feel my presence inside your mind,” replied his reflection. “Don’t you remember? We first met when you were a little boy and you came to visit your grandmother. Do you remember when you looked in her mirror? That was more than twenty years ago.”
Pumkin stared hard at his reflection and he could feel his thoughts struggling to break free of his conscious control. He could feel his consciousness being invaded by the strange creature sitting on the window sill. He tried to shout, but no words came out of his mouth. Finally, he managed to shout, “Go away! Get out of my head!”
The reflection jumped off the windowsill and landed on the floor between Pumkin and the mirror. It looked at him sadly and then shook its head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really wish I could show my face to other people. But I can’t. At least, not in this form.”
“What do you mean, not in this form?” asked Pumkin. “What are you? Some kind of monster?”
“No, I’m not a monster,” replied the reflection. “I’m simply a product of your subconscious. I am only visible to you, Pumkin. I want to help you.”
“Help me with what?”
“You haven’t been thinking clearly recently. Your life has been a constant struggle and you’ve lost touch with reality. I can help you to regain your sanity and find happiness.”
“If you’re a product of my mind, why can’t I see you in my dreams?”
“Because you can’t dream until you accept my existence,” answered the reflection. “Only then will I be able to show myself to you in the darkness of your unconscious.”
Pumkin nodded slowly. “You said you wanted me to give you a name?” he asked.
“That’s right,” replied the reflection. “I need a name to move forward in our relationship. Please choose a name for me.”
“What makes you think that I’m in charge of naming you?” asked Pumkin. “I don’t even know you properly.”
“Please choose a name for me,” insisted his reflection. “It’s important.”
Pumkin thought long and hard about the problem. “I’ll call you Cain,” he decided. “I like the sound of it.”
The reflection smiled. “Thank you, Pumkin,” he said. “I like it. I’m Cain.”
“So, what’s going to happen now?” asked Pumkin. “How are we going to communicate with each other?”
“I already told you,” replied the reflection. “We’ll speak to each other in your dreams. I’m not sure how long it will take for you to accept my existence, but I promise you that I will not leave your side until you do. Just wait patiently and everything will be fine.”
“You seem very confident,” said Pumkin. “Why are you so sure that I will accept you?”
“Because I’ve been watching you since the moment you were born,” replied Cain. “You are special. There is something extraordinary inside you. You just need to let yourself feel it.”
“What if I don’t want to accept your existence?”
Cain laughed gently. “Then we’ll both disappear,” he promised. “You will forget about me and I will cease to exist.”
Pumkin shuddered. His reflection seemed very serious. “But I can’t lose you,” he said. “I need you.”
“I understand,” replied his reflection. “I will wait as long as it takes. But you must try to stay calm.”
Pumkin sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “All right,” he said. “I’ll try.”
The following morning, Pumkin woke up to find that his face was completely healed. The swelling and the cut had disappeared overnight. He went downstairs to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. He took a seat at the table and opened his newspaper. He found an article in the advertisements section which caught his attention. He read the advertisement several times before he understood what it was saying.
An old man was offering to pay a reward to any person who could provide him with the location of a specific individual. He was looking for a young man named Pumkin. The advertisement explained that Pumkin had gone missing from his home two days earlier. The police were asking anyone who knew anything about Pumkin to contact them immediately. Pumkin looked at the photograph of his own face which was printed in the advert.
“What’s happening to me?” he wondered aloud. He recognised the old man’s name from somewhere. It was a name, familiar to him, one he’d heard many times, but he couldn’t remember the face the name belonged to.
He walked over to the mirror and gazed into his own eyes. He could see his reflection staring back at him. Then he saw the reflection’s lips move.
“Hello, Pumkin,” said Cain softly. “Did you sleep well?”
Pumkin stared at the image in the mirror. “Yes,” he said. “I slept very well.”
Cain smiled. “Good,” he replied. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, I think you should get dressed and go outside.”
“Outside?” asked Pumkin. “But the bailiff’s father is still after me! It’s dangerous outside!”
“The bailiff’s father is no longer a threat to you,” replied Cain.
“How can that be?” Pumkin asked, bewildered.
“I defeated him,” said Cain. “I killed him. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”
“You didn’t kill anyone!” protested Pumkin. “You said that you were only a product of my subconscious!”
“Until you accepted my existence.” Cain reminded him. “Last night I appeared in your dreams. With your acceptance, I am no longer bound by the constraints of your mind.”
“That doesn’t explain how you killed someone!” Pumkin exclaimed.
“Technically, you killed someone. Only I was in control of your body and your actions, while you were sound asleep. I did you a favour - that old man would’ve caused nothing but trouble for you.”
“But- but-”
“Who are you talking to, Pumkin?” The bailiff suddenly asked. He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “Is somebody there? Hello?”
“I’m alone in here,” replied Pumkin. “There’s nobody else in the house but me.”
The bailiff frowned. He was carrying a large brown paper bag. “Oh, I see,” he muttered. “You’re talking to yourself now, are you?”
Pumkin changed the subject. “What’s in the bag?” he asked. “Is it food?”
“It’s not food,” replied the bailiff. “It’s rubbish.”
“Rubbish?” repeated Pumkin. “What does rubbish have to do with me?”
“I’ve been collecting all the junk in your attic,” explained the bailiff. “There’s a lot of it! I’m taking it to the tip.”
“What rubbish?”
“Your rubbish, Pumkin,” answered the bailiff. “You keep throwing your stuff away without thinking about where it goes. Why don’t you use the bin instead of chucking it up in the air?”
Pumkin stared at his reflection in the mirror and shook his head. “I didn’t throw anything away!” he insisted.
“I know that you’ve been throwing things away,” replied the bailiff. “I saw you doing it.”
“But I didn’t!”
“You’d better use the bin from now on, Pumkin.” The bailiff said sternly, before leaving the room again.
Pumkin ran upstairs to his bedroom and locked the door. He sat down on the bed and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Cain smiled back at him.
“I suppose you did this as well, didn’t you?” Pumkin said, annoyed.
Cain ignored him. “You need to get out of this house, Pumkin.”
“Why? What are you trying to tell me? Are you warning me about something?”
“Yes,” replied Cain, calmly. “I’m warning you about the bailiff.”
“The bailiff?”
“Yes, Pumkin. Don’t forget that he’s a traitor too!”
Pumkin remained silent. He could feel the anger rising inside of him, but he struggled to control his emotions.
“A traitor?” He asked.
“Yes,” answered Cain. “He’s been working for his father, who wanted to kill you.”
Pumkin felt his heart pounding in his chest. “You’re lying!”
Cain seemed unfazed. “I already took care of the father myself. If you want to work together then I need you to take out the bailiff.”
“How do I do that?” asked Pumkin.
“I’ll give you a gun,” said Cain. “Now that you can see me properly, I don’t think you’ll have any problems killing a man.”
“I’d rather not kill anybody,” said Pumkin.
“You’re going to have to,” insisted Cain. “This is war. Only by killing your enemies can you win. Do you understand me?”
“But the bailiff isn’t my enemy!” Pumkin protested. “He’s been kind to me.”
“Kindness doesn’t matter,” said Cain. “He’s your enemy, because he works against you.”
Pumkin turned away from his reflection and sighed heavily. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll take care of the bailiff.”
“I’ll meet you outside,” said Cain. “When do you plan to attack?”
“Tonight,” replied Pumkin. “After dark.”
Cain nodded slowly. “Very good,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
The next evening, Pumkin ate dinner in his attic bedroom. The bailiff brought him a bowl of soup and a plate of meat and vegetables. Pumkin thanked him for the meal and returned to his room afterwards. He locked the door behind him and sat down on his bed.
“What’s happening to me?” he wondered. “Am I turning into a murderer? Did I really kill that man’s father?”
Suddenly, he remembered the expression on the man’s face when he held the gun to his head. Pumkin knew that he had killed the old man. He had seen the blood leaking from the bullet wound in the man’s forehead.
“Why are you making me do this, Cain?” He yelled out loud. “Why are you forcing me to kill people?”
“Because you’re not normal,” replied Cain from the reflection in the window. “Normal people don’t kill their enemies. They always try to avoid violence. But you’re not like everyone else. You’re special. You’re different. You’re stronger than most people. You can fight and kill like no one else.”
“But I’m not strong enough,” Pumkin mumbled. “I can’t even lift that chair without feeling tired.”
“You have strength inside of you, Pumkin,” said Cain. “You just need to learn how to draw it out.”
Pumkin felt his anger building in his stomach. “I hate you,” he said. “I wish you hadn’t come into my life.”
“I understand how you feel,” admitted Cain. “But you don’t need to be angry with me. I’m here to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Pumkin scoffed. “What makes you so special?”
“I’m here to help you,” answered Cain. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Pumkin glared angrily at his reflection in the mirror. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’ve already protected you.” Cain boasted. “I killed that old man for you. Now he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“You made me kill him!” Pumkin shouted.
“I didn’t make you do anything,” replied Cain. “You made me appear inside your dream. Deep down, you wanted me to kill him.”
“No!” Pumkin insisted. “I never wanted to kill anyone!”
“That’s not true,” said Cain. “I know you better than you think. I’m a product of your own mind, remember? I can read your thoughts. You wanted to kill that man, Pumkin. You always wanted to kill him.”
Pumkin froze. He could see the truth in Cain’s words. The more he thought about it, the harder it became to deny what Cain had said. He felt ashamed of himself.
“You’ve destroyed my life!” Pumkin cried, frustrated. “You’ve ruined everything!”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Cain argued. “All I ever did was help you. You’re letting yourself waste away in this dingy attic.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” Pumkin snapped.
“I know more than you think,” said Cain. “But that’s irrelevant right now. You need to go out and kill the bailiff tonight.”
Pumkin looked out the window and saw the bailiff chopping wood in the garden. His grandchildren were sitting on the grass, playing with each other. Pumkin turned around, and sat solemnly on the floor until nightfall. At midnight, when the moon was high in the sky, he left his bedroom and walked downstairs.