1933, Tennessee.

The road ahead was awash with rain. It poured down so fast, Jack could barely see where he was going. The white painted lines that marked the limits of the road vanished into the greyness. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the passing scenery, which had been clear as daylight minutes earlier, was now hidden behind a curtain of torrential rain.

Jack kept his foot hard down on the accelerator and forged on as fast as he dared. With frantic eyes, he snatched glances into the rearview mirror. There was nothing behind but the dark angry clouds of the following storm. Jack knew the devil was back there, somewhere, racing after him, for this was his storm after all.

Up ahead a sharp point of white cut its way through the blank grey curtain of rain, like a beckoning light at the end of a tunnel. Jack watched transfixed as the single point of bright light split into two blinding beams, headlights! In a panic, at the last possible moment, Jack swerved back into his own lane.

"Oh, Shiiit!" He screamed.

The fast-approaching car sped past, blasting its horn madly. For a fraction of a second Jack stared into the glaring eyes of the angry driver. For the briefest moment in time, everything slowed almost to a standstill. He watched as the man removed a cigarette from his mouth and shouted something obscene into the closed driver side window. Jack did not hear what was said but most certainly could lipread it, hand gestures and all. Time spun back up and the man and his car disappeared into the storm, as if he had never been there.

Jack held the cars steering wheel in his own personal death grip and swore at his own reflection. He chided himself.
"Keep your damned concentration on the road ahead. Forget what's chasing you"
Unable to follow his own advice for long, Jack glanced into the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of something red, something glowing. It wasn't the tail lights of the angry man's car, this light was getting closer and brighter.

"Damn. He's fast!"

Jack cursed, he thought he had more time before his inevitable capture. Reaching over to the passenger seat he placed a hand on the bundle of rags and felt a warmth emanating from within.

"Don't worry, we'll be with father McGinley soon" he said reassuringly.

The glowing red light in the rearview mirror followed as Jack swerved around bend after bend. The Studebaker's white-walled tires screech in agony as they desperately clung for all their worth to the roads wet surface.

The further Jack raced, the darker the evening became. The rain, that all but blinded him, became part of the darkness of night.

Nervously glancing up into the mirror, Jack could see that the red glowing light had grown much closer. He looked anxiously at the bundle beside him. The church and their salvation was still over ten minutes away. Desperate sweat ran down into his eyes.

"Oh crap, this is going to be close. Too bloody close"

With nerves already balanced precariously on a knife-edge, Jack was startled as the cars Motorola radio screeched and whistled. He watched as the radio's Bakelite knob turned and the dial's white needle wavered between frequencies. The temperature in the car dropped markedly. His breath clouded with each exhalation, fogging the windowscreen and making it all but opaque.

The radio's speaker crackled to life with a voice that screeched with ear-splitting agony,

"Why do you run?" It asked "There is nowhere you can hide, not from me!"

The words echoed violently around Jack's head, like a hammer striking an anvil. With each strike, he winced in pain. With each word, Jack faught to keep the car from swerving on to the grass verge and the inevitable pull of tires as they sank into the soft grass. Jack managed to wrench the car back onto the road and floored the accelerator.

Again he swerved from side to side as the voice sent needles of pain stabbing into his brain.

"You dare steal from me, without consequences!" It accused him.
"Give back what you have taken and I may spare you the pain, as you descend the many levels into my inferno"

Jack shook his head furiously and screamed into the rearview mirror at the now eclipsing redness that chased him.

"Not a chance. Take me if you must but I won't allow you to take..to take.." Jack bit his lower lip as memories he'd long tried to suppress were forced up to the surface "...her. No, not my Evelyn!"

The speaker rattled as the terrible voice screeched "Her soul is lost, therefore it belongs to me, as does yours when your time comes. Which will be soon, very soon"

Jack shook his head and wrenched the steering wheel around to the side, sending the car hurtling off of the main road and down a narrow dark trackway. The storm had slackened enough for him to read the road sign as it flew past in a blur.

'Saint Augustine's church, 5 miles'

The red glowing light filled the whole of the rearview mirror now and Jack knew that no matter how fast he could go, they weren't going to make it.

The road was rough and the car bounced violently up and down with every pothole it could find. Jack held on for dear life in more ways than one.

In desperation, Jack screamed out "Go away, leave us be. You can't have her! If you need a soul, take mine instead!"

Jack cried in anger as he guided the car through a tunnel made dark by overbaring tree's. With a desperately weak voice, he begged,

"Please! Don't take her, she has suffered enough!"

The deep red light had fina caught up to and enveloped the whole of Jack's car in a blood red mist. Jack couldn't see a single thing through the windscreen, he was completely and utterly blind. Still over a mile from the chapel, he slammed on the brakes and brought the Studebaker to a screaming halt to within an inch of a large Cedar that stood in his path

No time to waste, Jack threw open the car door, grabbed the glowing bundle from the passenger seat and ran blindly into the red mist. He guessed that he was roughly going in the right direction. He knew that taking the road on foot would lead him the long way to salvation. With fast but cautious steps, Jack stumbled down a grass bank into a field, away from the road and hoped it led towards St. Augustins. Jack, clinging to the glowing bundle for all his worth, skipped and dodge around the fields bulbous crop.

No longer needing the car radio to speak, the terrible and booming voice echoed all around.

"You know that I have to take her soul, for she is a sinner. You know she damned herself the moment she killed her child, your son! I am here to take back what you stole. Return to me the Lamp of Souls, JACK PATCH!"

As the voice hollered his name, Jack turned to look over his shoulder. From out of the red mist he saw a cloaked figure glide freely. With a raised skeletal finger, The Grim Reaper pointed at Jack and commanded: "Obey me, NOW!"

Jack turned from the frightful sight and sped on. A hidden root snagged his foot, sending him tumbling head over heels among the leaves and vines of the field. Winded, he eventually came to rest. The glowing bundle he had clung to, rolled free and tumbled just beyond his reach.

No longer beneath its covering, the Lamp of Souls came to rest, upright, against a small orange pumpkin. Jack, sprawled on his stomach, stared into the burning eye sockets of the skull lamp. Within the light, he could make out small shadowy shapes darting back and forth like fireflies in a fiery glass jar. He knew that these were no mere flies, but rather, lost souls the Reaper had collected and was ready to deliver to hell.

Jack scuttled on hands and knees, grabbed the lamps leather strap and run.
"Not far now" he groaned.
He could see the church. One of its stained glass windows twinkled with life. It was so very close and yet so very far away. He had to run a little further over the field. Just a little more to reach Evelyn's salvation!

Grim's terrible voice poured like ice water, deep into his ear. If any other voice had spoken, Jack would have felt a warm breathe on his cheek. Grim had no breath, no warmth, just terrifying cold.

"Stop!" Grim said, quietly.

Jack skidded to a halt. He wanted to flee, but his feet and legs would not do as he commanded. His whole body had frozen to the spot.

Ice cold fingers of bone, wrapped around Jack's wrist and lifted him painfully into the air, as a petulant child carried a ragdoll.

Now face to skull, Jack stared into the black empty eye sockets of Grim. He knew he should be scared for his life but Jack had long given up on the wish to live. Ever since his wife had killed their son and taken her own life, Jack had lost all hope. He was far more scared of failing to save his wife's soul from the Reapers lamp, than finding his own death.

Jack dangled helplessly from Grims skeletal hand and cried out in pain and futility.

"Give back the lamp!" Grim demanded

Jack screamed in agony as his own weight stretched his arm almost out of its socket. With his other hand, he held the lamp tight to his chest in refusal.

"NO! YOU WILL HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST" he yelled, defiantly.

Grim pushed his skull into Jack's face and growled: "Give me the lamp, NOW!"

Jack thought to himself, frantically 'Why does he keep asking me for the lamp? He's Death! He could easily rip it from my hand, couldn't he?'

Jack thrust his own face forward with realisation and said,

"You can't take it from me, can you. Why?"

Grim, without warning, let go of Jack's wrist.

Jack landed with a thud and groaned in pain. He sat himself up, still holding the skull lamp. Stunned, he asked,

"So, you can't just kill me and take the lamp, right! You need me to give you the lamp of my own free will, is that it?"

After a long thoughtful pause, Grim nodded his skull and said with a slightly less painful voice.

"That is right. Whoever holds the lamp has the power of the lamp. You are the soul collector for as long as you possess the lamp. You have to give back the lamp of your own volition. If you do not, you will be damned to collect the souls of the lost, for centuries to come"

Suddenly a thought struck Jack and with a glint of hope, he asked: "So I have the power to take souls, do I have the power to release souls from the lamp?"

Grim shook his skull "No! It is forbidden to release a soul once it has been collected. You have to return the Lamp to me"

Jack shook his head tiredly "I can't do that yet. First I must take it to the Chapel, there Father McGinley will hopefully be able to free my wife from the lamp and only then will I willingly return it to you"

Grim slowly, almost comically shrugged his shoulders,

"I do not understand why it is so important to you that I free your wife's soul. She killed your son, she smothered him with his own pillow as he slept and afterwards, she took her own life by jumping from the Austin Peay Bridge, to be washed away. Why would you wish to save her soul from the hell she so richly deserves"?

Jack, his face ashen, closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. Opening them again, he spoke as tears spilled down his cheeks,

"Our son, Toby, he was ill, very ill. We took him to doctor after doctor, trying to find a cure. We travelled hundreds of miles in every direction but found no one who could help. At last, we returned home to make our little Toby's last days as comfortable as possible. That was not to be. We cared for him as illness ravaged his tiny body, as he suffered agonizingly every minute of every day. He screamed so much and thrashed so hard he broke his brittle bones. Eventually, for his own good, we tied him down. The doctor prescribed opioids to knock him out, to relieve his suffering, but even that eventually failed to help"

Jack dabbed his face "One night, an especially long and upsetting night, Toby screamed in pain for hours. Evelyn cared for him, gave him the opiates and cried as she cradled him in her arms. Her heart broke repeatedly. We knew that Toby was near the end. All we could do, was drug our little boy to keep him subdued until that end. He was suffering far more than anyone should ever have to suffer and although the end was very near, it was also, so terribly far away"

Wiping tears from his face, Jack continued,

"On that night, it finally became too much for Evelyn too bare. With the love only a mother can give, she gave Toby enough opiate to knock him out. Holding our little boy in her trembling arms, she ended his suffering once and for all. After what must have been hours of cradling him, she left our little boy at peace, in his bed with his favourite toys. She came to our room, let me a letter, kissed me goodnight as I lay sleeping and left. Two days later her body was found in the river"

Exhausted and weary, Jack said,

"She did not murder our son! She set him free with love. She gave Toby what God did not, peace"

Jack lowered his head and sobbed. "Please, spare her, let her have peace. I know she committed a sinful act. She deserves her chance in purgatory, where she will be able to atone for her sins and finally earn a place in heaven. To finally be with our little boy"

Grim stood silently until Jacks sobs subsided and said,

"A very sad story, I'm sure. It is not the first such story I have heard and it will not be the last. She committed her soul to hell as soon as she took your sons and her own life, from that there is no going back" Grim paused and his voice trailed off as he considered an alternative option,

"Unlessss....."

Jack jumped at the small glimmer of hope in Grim's far gentler voice,

"Unless what, please I'll do anything" he begged.

Grim's faceless skull bobbed up and down as he spoke,

"For many centuries now I and other soul collectors, have struggled with the sheer volume of the sinful dead. Between the increasing population and growing frequency of wars, the number of lost souls has increased exponentially. For the past century, I have been recruiting willing souls, who for a chance of redemption, would willingly join me. To redeem your wife's soul, would you be willing to spend five hundred of your mortal years between life and death, in the netherworld?"

With not a moment's thought, Jack shouted "Yes, yes I would, I will. Set her free, let her rest with our son for eternity and I will remain with you"

"For five hundred years you will travel between this world and the netherworld, collecting souls that have chosen to let their lights dim and extinguish as they live. As your time comes to an end and your lamp grows full, you will take them down to the hell they forged in life. Only when you have completed your task will you be allowed to travel on, to whatever afterlife you deserve"

Jack stepped forward "And in return, you promise to set Evelyn free?"

Grim reached out his bony fingers and beckoned for the lamp "first you must return the lamp and then you must forfeit your life, of your own free will and by your own hand"

Holding the skull lamp to his face, Jack looked at the flitting shadows within the fire and then up at Grim. With a last look back into the light of the lamp, Jack saw familiar eyes staring back at him, eyes he had loved for many years. Although nothing was said, Jack felt an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. Jacks heart broke as he watched Evelyn drift happily away and whispered after her,

"Goodbye, my love!"

Jack held out the lamp and said,

"I'm ready"

Taking hold of the proffered lamp, Grim waited in silence as Jack laid himself down.

Jack withdrew a small pocket knife, rolled up his sleeves and as he looked up at the silver moon high above, he cut across both wrists to released his life's blood into the soil of the field. As he waited for his life to drain from his wrists and soak into the ground, he thought of his little Toby and of Evelyn and smiled sadly.

He didn't have to wait long before his last moment finally arrived. Jack closed his eyes as the red mist settled over him.

Like a timeless mausoleum, Grim stood over Jacks dead body and slowly held out a boney hand. In a deep sorrowful voice, he called Jack forth.

"Your life is now at an end, your death has just begun. Rise!"

Jack sat up with ease, gained his feet and then the air. Panicked, he frantically spun his arms round, trying to gain his balance. Once his panic had subsided, he came to a dead hover above his prone body. Both fascinated and horrified, he watched as pumpkin vines snaked over his corpse, winding around his limbs and dragging him down into the soil. Jack realized he was actually dead.

In awe and fear, Jack asked Grim,
"Now what?"

Grim drifted towards Jack's ethereal being and said:
"You are no longer that what you once were. Now you have become a collector of souls. You must choose a name, a lamp and become that which you will be"

Jack nodded "Yes, I guess. I'll have to get myself a skull like yours. I don't know, maybe call myself, Jack the Reaper!"

Grim slowly shook his cowled head and dismissed Jack's suggestion,

"No! When I became a collector of souls many millennia ago, I used the nearest thing I could find as my lamp and as I was in a graveyard when I was called, a skull became my lamp. And as I was a farmer in life, I was no longer a reaper of crops but of souls"

Grim pointed at the ground "Use what is nearest"

Jack looked at what Grim was pointing to, raised a questioning eyebrow and asked: "A pumpkin, really?"

Grim raised his hand and a large orange pumpkin rose into the air and over to Jack.

"And now you become what you will be"

Jack felt the weight of a black, high collard, leather coat, settle over his shoulders and heavy riding boots slip onto his feet. An uncomfortable itch crawled over his face, down his arms and into his hands. He screamed as he watched his skin dissolve away to be reveal long thin skeletal fingers. Horrified, Jack carried the pumpkin Grim had given him and floated over to his car. He stared dumbfounded at the reflection in the windscreen.

Staring back at him, was a large orange face of a pumpkins, with round hollowed out eye's, a slit for a nose and a wide jagged mouth. All lit from within, by a deep red flickering flame. Jack yelped in shock and the pumpkin head yelped back.

Jack turned to Grim and asked: "And my name?"

Grim began to fade away into the red mist and at the last, he spoke,

"A collector of souls must choose a name that will warn of his coming" and Grim was gone.

Jack thought for a good long moment, before raising a bony finger into the night air and with a terrible screeching scream, called out into the night.

"JACK 'O' LANTERN!"