Haunted Holidays – The Host Reveals Himself

They had expected something big, even strange. They got… him.

The Wendigo stopped growling. The Jersey Devil forgot to chew his stolen cake. Even Mothman tilted his head, confused. The mysterious Host who sent the sealed invitations and marked the path with violet flame… was small. Quiet. Nervous. A stitched little being from nowhere, holding a single gift with both trembling hands.

He placed it on the table. No speeches. No curses. Just a shy smile.

And suddenly....it made sense.

This wasn’t a trap. This wasn’t a ritual. It was something far older… and far rarer. A gathering of creatures the world feared and forgot. A reminder that even cryptids have stories and sometimes, they need someone who sees them.

The gift glowed faintly. No one opened it. They didn’t need to.

Some things aren’t meant to be used. Some things are meant to be given.

Every legend begins somewhere. Some even begin with friends.