Pumpkin Riot Productions

Some traditions should’ve stayed buried.

🎃 ENTER YOUR HAUNT. RALLY YOUR VOTES. WIN THE MASKS. 🎃

Enter your yard haunt in the Pumpkin Riot Masterpiece Showdown on the FrightMaps app and get your friends, family, and fellow Halloween Haunters to vote!

The winner takes home the Pumpkin Mask Trifecta from me!

Get your haunt entered. Rally the troops. Let the best yard haunt win. 🎃

Next time you visit Pumpkin Riot, see if you can find all the husk dolls out there in the pumpkin patch.

The Tale of Silas Grimsby

They say Silas Grimsby still plays his violin in the old barn beyond the pumpkin patch.

No one remembers when Silas died…or if he ever did.

But when the Harvest moon hangs low, Silas appears in the barn doorway, pumpkin head tilted to one side, violin tucked beneath his chin.

Then he begins to play.

The sound slips between the cornrows, soft and mournful, drawing curious children farther into the patch.

The old folks have passed down the same warning for generations..

Never follow the music.
Never enter Grimsby’s barn.

Those who do are never seen again.

By morning, another corn husk doll will be sitting among the pumpkins…small, crooked, and bound together with dried husk.

Everyone knows what they are.

That’s why nobody touches them.

Nobody brings them home.

Years passed before anyone realized something strange.

There were far more dolls in the patch than children who had ever gone missing.

Then one morning, a mother found a new doll sitting outside her front door.

Her son was still asleep upstairs.

She carried the doll inside.

And when the boy came downstairs, he stopped cold.

The little doll wore a coat stitched with black twine.

A coat just like his.

Relieved that her son was safe, the woman threw the doll into the fire.

That night, across the pumpkin patch, somewhere beyond the corn, a violin began to play.

The woman looked out the window.

Silas Grimsby stood at the edge of the field, bow dragging slowly across the strings.

Beside him was an empty place.

Waiting.

The doll was never what Silas turned you into.

It was how he chose who came next.