Special Notes: The Halloween Contest is coming soon. I hope all the writers post a chilling tale of the macabre. Make this the best Halloween Contest ever! Horror in the Garden As the mercury plummeted, the once serene backyard garden transformed into an arena of silent struggle; a botanical battlefield where each species vied for dominance in the frigid night. Tomato plants, their once vibrant red fruits now dulled by the cold, stood sentinel against the creeping frost, a formidable adversary against their subterranean rival, the potato. The corn had been complacent, swaddled in layers of protective husk that whispered lies of warmth and safety. Dawn revealed the grim reality: a tableau of destruction. The golden ears lay strewn across the earth, husks torn asunder and commandeered to shield the tomatoes from the biting chill. It was a massacre—the corn’s arrogance laid bare beneath the indifferent sky. The carnage did not end there. At the farthest border of the garden, a more subtle horror had unfolded. Green beans, once snug within their pods, were dragged forth into the unwelcoming morning air. Their slender forms were scattered haphazardly, a testament to the turmoil that had seized the garden in the dark hours. This was no indiscriminate act of nature but a calculated siege, one that bore witness to the relentless cycle of survival. As the light grew stronger, it seemed to cast judgment on the scene—illuminating the folly of the corn's misplaced trust, the peppers' silent vigil, and the ruthless efficiency with which the garden had turned upon itself. Here, amidst the remnants of battle, lay the stark reminder that loyalty held little sway when pitted against the primal will to endure. Each plant, in its own way, clung to life, roots delving deeper, leaves reaching for the weak sun, even as they witnessed the futility of resistance. The garden, steeped in history, spoke of countless seasons past—of growth and decay, of alliances forged and broken. This new day, with its cold clarity, would be etched into the annals of the backyard, another layer in the intricate tapestry of existence within this small patch of Earth.